Mortal Impossibilities

Surprise me.
Take me to the moon so many promises have failed to climb.
Show me the sunset at sunrise.
Will you make come true that song’s lines,
and for me the Kilimanjaro climb a thousand times?
You vow never to make mistakes,
but human we are and we break.
If I’m the sole reason that you breathe,
promise you won’t die if I leave?
Told me I’m more precious than the Stonehenge stones;
I can’t promise you forever, I’m flesh and bones.
Loving can be short, Neruda said,
and forgetting, so long.
Only proceed if you know you’re strong.
For us mortals the impossible seems easy;
we become dreamy when we love so deeply.

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Across the Bed

Why do you think we lie on our back sometimes across the bed when for answers we search? Arms spread out, down in defeat, as if by doing so the world would change a thing. Is it because it feels like the most comforting thing ever, or is it because we think the ceiling can hear us, can talk? Maybe baring our souls to the unknown gives us some weird kind of hope?

I have more questions than answers. Thus, if you do know, say so.

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Internal Scream

Someone once said that silence is the most powerful scream. The trick is knowing when someone really is just silent.

A scream has many faces, many ways of interpretation. A scream has the habit of disguising itself as a greeting face. Big parenthesis from ear to ear may as well be deep marionette lines, but are invisible to the gullible eye. Do you ever notice when someone’s screaming inside? Or why?

If you were more caring, more intuitive, you would. Sometimes I wish someone would notice. But they never do.

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Mister Cool Guy: A Poem

Cool guy

Can’t you see, girl?
I’m trying to get to you,
Doing crazy things
that only artists do.

A shadow of your posts
appears on my feed,
my keyboard gets all eager, girl,
A tweet I must set free.

I try to play it cool,
pretend your face don’t matter,
Date one here and there,
But low-key it’s you I’d rather.

My style, very different for
An erudite like you.
Don’t deny yourself the pleasure
Of calling me your beau.

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Life Trying to Knock You Out?

me vs life

Here’s a reminder to anyone who can relate not to throw in the towel yet.

You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary…so you can know who you are, and what you can rise from.

–Maya Angelou

(My guess is life wears a hat and smokes Cuban cigars.)

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I Think I’m Ready

I think I’m ready to live my life the way I wanted.

I think I’m ready to live my life and not look back.
I think I’m ready to see more than white and black;
to fly a little, to wake up late
no voices saying to face the day.

Sit in complete silence from dawn to dawn,
stay up ’til inspiration is gone.
In search of independence I’ve run away,
but the road is long, I’m halfway.

I miss sometimes the days I could write,
when I borrowed verses from the night;
the same old nights that made me ill,
but things seemed always a bit more chill.

Tranquil hibernation is what I long
in a chaotic world that’s gone so wrong.

I think I’m ready to let go of the past.
I think I’m ready to make my way out of the glass;
to mix the air with different waters, shake well,
barefoot walk on grass, break the spell.

I think I ought to live my life, I must.
Letting go would hurt less, at long last.

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Autumn Speaks

By the fire

To feel your flame fanning my feet. It’s these little moments for which I live. As long as I can do this, it is not so bad that the pages of my calendar have turned to October and the marble floors are a frozen sea. As long as I can do this, let that inevitable cycle go on again and again.

‘Long as I can turn on the heat.

Staring into a volcano; getting lost in my thoughts, wishing it didn’t burn to feel you so close. Like the rain, you make me find words in my head very deep. Our chemistry helps me breathe. Here, nothing matters. My Raynaud’s is forgotten. Just as pumpkin-cinnamon-apple-spice is a cliché, you are worth the repeat.

But I’ll run away. Unfortunately, sometimes, I’ll leave. Nothing’s perfect, you see. Though the moment equals infinity, your flame is short-lived. Promises should be eternal. I’ll be searching for the conditional warmth that your current brings across other unconditional seas.

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