Not Normal
It’s not normal.
Extremely odd.
Who does that?
Planned.
Said.
"You sure?"
Not normal?
Who does that?
Planted.
I pull back —
once —
just to water the seed.
What has been planted
is growing.
And growing.
And growing.
Sporting its vines,
suffocating.
Underwater —
clearly above.
Not enough time.
Said:
"Why you?"
What you have is for the taking.
What you have is so easily takable.
Blink an eye,
or smile partially —
Territory.
Not mine anymore.
The roots are starting to feed.
The soil is drying up.
And the water that once was
isn't so clean.
Or maybe
the water isn’t cold enough.
Or warm enough.
Maybe the things they put into the water
were not what they told us.
Maybe it wasn’t a plant after all.
Maybe it was a tree.
A willow tree.
And the plants all around —
they had no idea.
They just saw a seed.
They just saw a blink,
or half a grin.
And they warmly welcomed a new seed —
something they hadn’t seen in so long.
The seed spoke softly.
The seed told them exactly what they wanted to hear.
And they listened.
It’s too late now.
It’s been watered.
And it’s taken all the minerals.
It’s taken all it needed.
All it ever wanted.
The cycle is over.
So it begins to blossom.
And the wind takes the leaves.
And the leaves carry new seeds.
And it’s too late.
Too Many Lives
I fell in love with a cat.
You hate cats.
They have too many lives for your liking —
like an ant,
they just keep coming back.
Tricks
The heart will play tricks.
Let it fool you —
just don’t be its fool.
Seep
You cross my mind
the same way the spaces between window shades
allow light in.
Every morning, that sneaky glimpse —
never knowing how sunny the day will be
until you open them.
But that little bit that seeps through.
Passing
It’s so hard to wish that this time would pass,
because it’s life that is really passing.
I wish every day —
a little faster every day,
closer to another birthday.
We don’t realize it.
But man,
don’t forget:
Every day without each other
is another day
without each other.
Wish
How I wish
for my days to pass,
only to remember —
that’s my lifetime too.
Carter
The women don’t always nurture.
The men still breathe.
At odds with myself,
fighting over who you did
or didn’t sleep with.
How boring and possessive.
Put it to bed.
Carter.
Brick Room
Into my brick room,
two windows.
The sun promises another day.
The sounds of my roommates,
the sirens, a train.
All for what?
One lousy fuck?
Rather be celibate.
So...
Some things I don't write about — crazy, right?
Typically — speak it all.
Everything needs to be said.
Thoughts so personal,
I’d rather tell you in bed.
So….
Think of Me
Your skin,
pink bubble gum.
Setting up the scene,
the grand “emotion.”
Read this over — once more.
That blue gem in your hand —
think of me.
She Finally Struck
“She’s got no shame, that girl.”
I ran into her on the train,
making my way home from Jolene.
Light brown hair — never sitting,
always standing as if she could strike at any moment,
never knowing which stop she’d exit.
I caught her just in time last Tuesday:
red dress, heels, lipstick,
a sweet oak smell,
a Santa Fe scent.
At last she was seated, anxiously.
She’d finally struck.
Wanted Her
Short brown hair,
dresses from her mother’s local thrift shop —
some old place up the street.
She got around a lot,
whatever that means.
I didn’t mind.
Wanted her to myself.
Oh Poor Me
Someone who dresses different,
wears colors that match,
and coffee that sits perfectly in frame.
The book they’ve never read —
the pages make no difference
in a photo.
Oh poor me.
All at Once
I’m sitting here
on the couch — confused, upset & angry?
I’m angry. Furious.
I wanna use every word in the dictionary.
I wanna use every word I’ve ever thought.
I wanna say every sentence I never said.
Write every poem
in one line.
I wanna say I love you
in every way someone has said it.
I wanna show you I love you
for every day I’ll miss showing you.
But most of all —
I wanna rest.
All at Once
I’m sitting here
on the couch — confused, upset & angry?
I’m angry. Furious.
I wanna use every word in the dictionary.
I wanna use every word I’ve ever thought.
I wanna say every sentence I never said.
Write every poem
in one line.
I wanna say I love you
in every way someone has said it.
I wanna show you I love you
for every day I’ll miss showing you.
But most of all —
I wanna rest.
Irregular
I started writing poems again.
I’ve also had enough tea
to calm the entirety of New York,
yet my heart still beats irregularly —
a street performer,
banging away for some change.
My Greatest Friend Carter
Spark every part of my soul.
Amplifies my best parts,
my trustiest natural
self.
Always —
my greatest friend.
Think of Me
Who turned those lips to stone
and wrote on the ceiling?
When you find yourself looking at him —
half naked,
and looking for pleasure —
pull the covers over your eyes.
Think of me,
as it will be the last thought
I have of you.
Graveyard
It used to be I could retire
my unmatched socks and oversized tees
in her dresser.
As of recent,
it feels they are no longer retired,
but misplaced altogether.
My toothbrush that once lived
next to that pink razor —
now a headstone
in a graveyard of mismatched socks,
oversized tees,
and cum-stained towels.
At Last
One morning in San Diego,
one more in Minnesota,
another in Arizona,
one final in New York.
At last —
I’m here.
Pretty much be whoever,
except who I want?
Audiences
Audiences, crowds —
infinite eyes, tongues, and ears.
Be sure to check the tongues.
Tell them words have been written
for the repeatability
they find untrue.
Reminded You of Me
If I wrote for myself,
I wouldn't make it shareable.
Saying the same thing to be on time,
catch you at the right time.
She met this guy the other day —
reminded you of me, huh?
Connected
Our heads connected.
I got the message
before you sent it.
Etched
I’ve etched my map onto your skin.
Maybe that’s why you feel
there’s so much more to explore?
Curiosity at night, ever so gentle —
fear of smearing your —
Only under moonlight the sun rises.
So you carry me through the day,
waiting for your dawn.
Grocery Store
Women could go to the grocery store,
have sex with any of the male cashiers —
even the married ones,
even the married Christian ones.
Until I’m New
I’ll walk,
until I’m new.
Brave
How brave
to be nothing,
to no one at all.
Unfair
She only understands on the days she’s not in love
what love is.
Feeling left out, at the movie theater.
The duality in the things she does
and the things she’s doing.
The backups are beautiful people
that love him,
as long as he’s loved her.
Yet all they are,
is the same thing he is to her.
Seems unfair —
the many ways life can be so heartbreaking,
and lovely at the same time.
It seemed unfair
to not belong in her world, as I’d wanted.
At the same time,
it seemed unfair the way things had been transpiring
in her world to begin with.
Many emotions,
especially on days when things were tougher than the rest.
Hang tight, he says.
It will get better.
Trying to believe it himself.
All I really wanted
was to be there for her.
I didn’t believe in anything else.