Adventures in NaPoWriMo 23/30

in the end
we always call in question the beginning
on bad days
i’m sure even God regrets
that whole
“let there be”
and the two of us
made in His image it seems
are no different
me
a bundle of questions
as to where the fall began
you
not raindance enough
to wipe the slate clean
in the beginning
was the word
and the word
has always been love
but words alone are never enough
to hold their weight in water
in the beginning
we try not to anticipate the end
on good days
i’m sure even God believes
that we all
will find redemption
i find it hard to sleep at night
i fear you nightmare of my face
i fear your subconscious will only call up memories of bad days
but in the beginning
the two of us wrong were still our own kind of beautiful
a thing with holding on to
even in the end

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 21/30

when i grow up

i’ll be the kind of girl

that does not hurt other people

not on purpose

not with a sucker punch

saying something about being whole now

i will finish what i start

think twice before beginning

go back to not making promises

until i know that i can keep them

i will do more with this heart

than beat

and  break

do more with with this love than weep

when i get older

i will be the woman

you always told me i could be

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 20/30

So. Apparently we've reached the portion of the month where I write pretty awful, crazy poems...with no real relevance to anyone except me and a person who will never actually read the poems.....but nevertheless. Um...gonna be avalanching out my insides for the next couple pieces...so be prepared for that - or if you'd like, you can just rejoin me around #23 or so for better poetry.

for the waffle house

parking lot

walmart

sunrise

first kiss

butterscotch

bitter and sweet

for the phone call

car ride

bar hop

night crawl

slow dance music

soft and offbeat

for the after

and dizzy

silver

and calm

promise and break

the startle and sting

for the memories to come

that will be haunting

for having nothing to offer

but a poem

and an apology

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 19/30

someday

someone will have the misfortune

of seeing me kind

and gentle hearted

their love an open handshake

to center in my palm

i will tell them

the human heart is the size of a fist

and i am more sucker punch than soul mate, love

i am no one

to go all in with

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 18/30

So this particular piece is a cleave poem (that's right - i'm messing around with forms). The idea - it's three poems in one: the left column is a poem, the right column is a poem, and then if you read the whole thing left to right like normal, it's another poem. I don't know that this particular cleave poem is any good, but it was....pretty friggin' difficult to put together.

i dreamt of you		last night
under the stars		holding the moon between your fingers
the night a velvet blanket		you said
between the two of us		nothing is impossible
i said		i swear
i wish		i believed you
that we were awake		eyes open
without pretense		hand over heart
i promised		giving in to that illusion
to love you this much		then
in the morning		it was over

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 16/30

only the heartbroken know what it means

to witness the world in bittersweet, love

i wanted to call you today

watched a relationship fold into comfort

at the corner of a coffee shop

two lovers entwined in listening

as easy as a handshake

forgot how walking away from you

was the same as being free

knew you were the only one who would understand

why your number is still in my phone

how i keep track of how many times i’ve ignored

your still persistent calling

and i love you

the same way i have learned to love

those early childhood spankings

for all the things they taught

if not the way they felt

even if it always felt home

i have uprooted a life before,

love

i will never answer my phone

please

don’t stop calling

Adventures in NaPoWriMo 11/30

if not for a nightmare
then maybe the heat
or the reminder of food not put away
the sound of the neighbors' dog
mixed with the music across the street
maybe thirst
or headache
or a million other reasons
all of this to say, no
missing you isn't the reason why
i cannot sleep

Adventures in NaPoWrimo 6/30

how to love a rape survivor

do not waste your energy reminding her that you are not him

tell her she’s beautiful

and unbroken

and every bit still deserving

remember your mother

the day you realized that she too was fragile

be the boy who ached to shelter her safe in your arms

forget everything  you’ve learned from watching made for tv movies

every story is as different as the girl who has to tell it

remember that upstairs at a college party

is no different than midnight in an abandoned alley

that some bruises turn inward at family reunions

and others never show at all

be careful

but not too careful

be aware

but not a reminder

remember the girl is more than just one thing

to be held in the light and examined

forget what you know of protection

this is more tightrope than bullwhip these days

tell her she’s safe when you see the wander in her gaze

give her space enough to believe you

be comfortable in the silent spaces to which she will take you

be respectful

you’ll never know what really happened here

but learn to treat each sharing as a gift

be courageous

and gentle

let her teach you that balance

be the boy she never believed was coming

remember the man you are

remember

if there is a moment you err too much on the side of rugged

in that second

to her

you are no different than him

forget what you think your words will do

sometimes love is a hug you can runaway from

tell her

you’re sorry

open your palms

and be patient until she returns

Adventures in Rediscovery

So.

I wrote a version of this poem a long while ago and have recently rediscovered what it meant. And while I'm not necessarily a fan of the sentiment, I am a fan of the piece. Again thanks to Kholi and Chriss for being the kind of friends that write poems with me.
-----

this moment is repetition

we stand still,
refusing to trust ourselves,
gathering
facts like lies
like seashells,
searching for fullness amidst broken pieces,
placing points together with
the futile hope
that
something
will be again

made whole.

bound as we are,
we grasp for memories,
our opinions of self,
listless mosaics
of alter-reason-
thick resentment.
unsure what is what
or
where
or
which belongs to whom
just needing to
hope to see them stay,
hesitantly defining our needs against
the insufficient
provisions of another,
comparing bounties with no real expectations
of bona fide treasures.

i scatter my collection at your feet:

i have been lying here nearly 300 days
fact

waiting
fact

for you to make mutual sacrifice
fact fiction.

with every shallow breath I tense
each smile, a trinket, charm, a check yes on the
letter Ive written to you and hidden
in my heart

I am lying here
Waiting

becoming all you never asked me to
those things to which you’ve merely shown a preference
I am your made bed and all the trash cans emptied and
breakfast made to meet your rising
I have been a rough and hot
meeting in the dark
or on the floor
where I have been lying here …

I see all i wish for us
fact
in you:
fiction

the promise of peace and safe and home, and me,
fact
never to be broken again
fiction

i will never leave.
fact.

we're grownups now
fact, fiction
we know more than the bittersweet
fact
we know better
fiction

i think “us” will never bear a love poem
fact

i can learn to be ok with that
fiction

Adventures in Twilight

So.

I will admit that I've told the story of how I came to read the Twilight series, so many times that even I have believed that it's true. In fact, I didn't even realize that it was a lie until last night, as I was walking away from the theatre, having finally seen the last installment of the film adaptation. Truth is - we gulity pleasured our way through that series together. I remember finding it at the corner of your bed, immediately launching into almost merciless teasing, and being walloped over the head with a pillow several times until I finally agreed to read the first chapter at least....

I will admit that walking away from the movie without you on my arm, felt a little like being unfaithful - and I still don't know what to do about that. These days you are like a splinter in my mind that there aren't tweezers strong enough to extract.
--

*sigh*

I'm sitting at my friends's house, staring at a picture of a boat on a dock in a town that looks rather New Englandy, and I'm really wishing that I painted. I feel like I could knock out some pretty angsty post-modern abstract expressionist something or other with a black stripe and a lot of swirls or something.

Peace Be

Adventures in Change

So.

For those who haven't been keeping up: I've recently started teaching a new subject, to a new grade level, at a new school, gotten a new apartment - both in new cities, and am trying to navigate some new rules for an old relationship....hmmm...For those who have been keeping up...we know that I don't deal well with new.

This is where Chriss (and everyone else in my inner circle) will tell me that a line of medical defense would be extraordinarly helpful against this state of depression I've been choosing to "beat back" with cookie dough and sleep. But you don't have to know me well at all to know what my response to that looks like.

What does this mean?

Be on the look out for some really bad, really angsty poetry...or maybe some really hostile pseudo-political rants here in the near future. And if are one of the "chosen few" that edits my stuff for me (is it wrong to say groupies? Are you mad? You can call me your groupie too if it helps)....be on the lookout for something honest.

Speaking of poetry - guess who decided to take a year from Slam? This is not a throwback to the time I took off from writing (Do you remember that foolishness?) - this is a "it really isn't cute to disappear from your job to spend all of your money acting like you're 20 with a group of poets also pretending that they're 20." Next year, when I've built some cred with the boss and have *gasp* set aside some money for this kind of trip, I'll take my spot on the team back. Because that's not arrogant. I'll compete again, and hopefully be able to get a spot amongst the best that Piedmont's got to offer.

More to say, but I'm...tired of talking. So.

Peace Be

Adventures in 22/30

"Sometimes a demonstration is better than an answer"
                                           ~J.C. McClurkin

even children understand show&tell
to be an inseparable pairing
there is no interest in only the noun of things
and this is how i love
like a hurricane
like sudden
powerful
and outward in all directions
to travel any distance
to make a business of impression
and i have no use
for language when it comes with no display
what good is a love
that is merely a word

Adventures in Happy Endings

So.

A couple days ago I watched happythankyoumoreplease, which is a pretty decent flick that captures that sort of...snapshot of a moment when you realize you're an adult. And it's set in New York. And there's a woman with alopecia universalis. And a small negro. Which is always nice.

As usual, I ignore the larger themes of the movie and focus on the most obscure points in the plot to inform what I believe to be true about the world. In this case - the concept of the one-night stand.

I think that one-night stands are interesting...because they never tend to be as "one-night" as people would suppose. At least not here in your smaller cities or university campuses. I think we've all had that awkward moment where you run across "that guy from last week with the insert-identifying-traits-here"...and wondered how we could have been so naive to think that we could actually never see that person again. I mean never? Really? Especially now in the world of social networking and constant communication - I run into Kanye West's one night stands, my mother's ex boyfriend's one night stands, your one night stands...and yes, that guy from last week with the purply birthmark.

What's even more interesting, is that deep down, I don't know that anyone truly believes in the "one-nightedness" of the one-night stand. We secretly believe that "one-night" will turn into "first-date" will turn into "first anniversary" will become "happily-ever-after".

Which of course got me thinking about what "h-e-a" even means. Of course we're socialized to believe that it means a wedding and children and a marriage that lasts until someone dies...but is that really the only picture of a successful relationship? Can't a successful relationship also be one that only lasts for a few years...if at the end of that time, both people can make the healthy decision to separate from each other? If we accept that friendships grow and change, why can't we accept that in a romantic relationship, there may come a point where the couple (or "grouple" if you dig the polyamorous vibe) should separate? Why does it always have to be some tragic heartbreak that ends a relationship? Some grand event that takes what you thought might add up the greatest years of your life and shadow them with pain, distrust, and a whole host of other emotions that require vodka and cheesecake to set straight? I tend more towards the thinking that if we trust ourselves to see the right moment to enter a relationship, we should also trust ourselves to find the right space to exit.

Just watch the movie. It's worth the 100 minutes.

Peace Be