Free verse poem: The evening spent waking up (Chicago)

Free verse poem: The evening spent waking up (Chicago)

Tell me a fable
A pretty one
Lie if you can make it half-decent

It’s as if embers from my rotten tomb have come back to life as
Soft pink edges
Anatolic, seemingly vacant rings of fire
Undertones of bluish-grey with a violence that
Covers me in indifference
But I want it to be rapture, in evocative coincidence
A tint of reimagined tendencies
My scattered disarray of silenced opinions
And violet ultramarine hesitation

I try to be gentle
But I step on leaves that crack
Crossing my fingers, there wasn’t a snail

Behind my trepidation
There is a vicinity with a lakeside residential view
I couldn’t breathe when you were holding me
I felt like I was becoming discolored
Wondered what part of that I devised

A satin grey globe where we
Envisioned our honeymoon
Picked out places, names that seemed familiar
A euphoric but decidedly shapeless language
A foreign body
Like tectonic plates
Smooth, but not comatose
On close on purpose
A bittersweet taste
A light that turns on when you want it to be dark
A fire alarm
That burns

A missed left turn
Turn the page, crash, and burn
And still I stand at the cashier, holding dollar bills that are paper thin
Like the epitome of a half-circle
Like the cigarette, you don’t put out
Because you let the street take care of it
Cherish it
Marinate it in the heat of October in Los Angeles
A vehemence down beneath that which can’t be seen
And is never spoken aloud

Imbued by a cityscape, I miss more than you can possibly imagine
The twinkling city lights
A cacophony of everything that was so right for me
Felt so good to me
And the plasm lost its charge, and the dewdrops disappeared
I never quite got over it

I miss you
The way you held me close to you at night
Nobody ever did it better
Than you

I’m finding it hard to
Be like a daisy
In the breeze, that moves my hair
To the other side

I hold my head in my hands
I feel like

Coming apart tonight
To tell you the truth

Endless interlaced reflection symmetry to tell me I am not what someone wants to find
Not what anybody would look for
Unless they were as disillusioned as my perception of self

Though it seems that tonight is the night
I warned you
I told you
I’m coming apart just right

Nobody ever held me like you, forgetful city

Love poem: Don’t leave (me be)

Love poem: Don’t leave (me be)

I’m unstable
And I can’t tell you I’m unstable
Because I know you’ll leave
I know you’ll leave

I Think I’m Ready Now (The Mirror; the Pink Dress) (1883) by William Merritt Chase, oil on canvas

I look at my telephone; I put it down
I’m running around
I try to picture us together, in the rose gardens and wildflowers
But I’m holding on to a secret that’s like a back brace you don’t see me carrying
I act in idiosyncratic ways
And when I lose sight of your gaze,
I go in transient circles, wondering if I’ve lost you entirely
Come, lie in bed with me
Breathe beside me
Breathe out your exasperated fumes, and I’ll intake your carbon dioxide
All I can get
To move on to the next page
To avoid being stagnant
But it’s out of habit
That I crawl under the covers and I shut my eyes
Praying, only praying, that sleep will come bless me
Like it does, you, when you’re tired of fighting

The chaos that is driving me to combust
To erupt in fragrant comatose remedies only made for
Heavenly maidens under God’s brightly lit eyes
I’m not that type of person
I’m the one that lives with the curse in
-side me like a poison
That’s stumbling and rocking and weaving in between the Heavens to serve me a splendor I
Never deserved

A New York Blizzard (1890), By Frederick Childe Hassam

But I would
I should
Get up in time
Take the frostbite right off me
And take off my hospital gown
Surrendering to the amplified surround sound
The blankets we put over your walls to keep the vocal tone pitch in the points that mesmerize us the most
Haunt us until we’re comatose
In bed with the flu
Poor, sick thing
She’ll be fine by the morning

She’ll be fine
She’ll be fine
She’ll be fine
In time

I awaken in a wretched state; I’m ghastly and ill and,
I hesitate
To reach out
I know how these things go
I know I’m alone
I know my despondency is tragic, in a way that shakes you
Like you don’t want to be shaken
Nobody wants that in place of a lullaby
And I can be that-
That soothing, transient, hypnotic daze
But I’m succumbing to old premonitions
I’m losing the battle
And I can’t let you see my struggle

Lady Constance Leveson-Gower, later Duchess of Westminister (1850) by Franz Xaver Winterhalter (Museum: Royal Collection)

It’s not pretty
It’s not on purpose
But it’s oh so purposeful
I have to move on to move on to the next page
The next page where we’ve arrived at Saturn and your eyes have a glaze like a beautiful vegan donut in a ceramic box
A chamber where I don’t make a noise
Not because I don’t know how to
Because I know not to
I just know not to

I’m losing this battle
Nobody’s on the line
And I know, I know, that in time I’ll be fine
But how I wish
Can only wish
That you were here to tell me

The twenty-seven different beautiful things you see in me
And how that projection spontaneously came to be
That’s what truly most interests me

Interior of a Baroque Church (circa 1660) by Emanuel de Witte, oil on canvas

But I won’t ask
Shove the covers and refuse to speak to my mother
I go through everything alone; it’s the way this life paves
One day I’ll be at the Heavenly gates asking for forgiveness

And I don’t think that’ll be quite in store
Or offered
To someone like me

Will you still love me?

I’m too scared to look

Free verse love poem: Florals on film (white dove)

Free verse love poem: Florals on film (white dove)

Short but sweet
I’m a plate of coconut-sugared honeydew
In the azure-blue wave of the evening sky,
I make my way to you
With a glistening undertone to my green eyes,
That you swear are hazel
Because you don’t look for long enough

Receptive, and kind
Is this a love letter to myself?
I want what I have to give; how can I be more transparent
Always feel like I’m tearing –
Apart music venues, but all I do is hang concert posters
Artists that I work with
They trust me with their craft
Something makes me think I should be proud of that
But I’m a mellow girl, tend to be more relaxed
(Because when it’s about me, I get frostbite)
Amputated in broad daylight

When you came over and laid on my satin blush-pink bedspread and stared at my lilac & steel grey walls,
I almost became afraid
That you’d get the wrong idea about all the wedding dress advertisements
They’re just for decoration!
(Can’t a girl feel elegant in her own residence?)
I’m not looking for tulle, when I try to breach the lull
Apprehensive about if you read what’s on my whiteboard
Like I’m the kind of person who needs inspiration external to self
But it’s all me
It all comes from me
I am the doyenne of my own prosperity
I need my very words for my sanity
And you – laying there – you probably didn’t notice
That I like white flowers too

More than my love for the moon
More than vegan blueberry pancakes with homemade butter
Horse-drawn carriages always made me sad
But a cowboy’s relation with his horse is what I admire
Absence of solicitude makes me so tired
I refused admiration for so many years
But oh, what it would be – to be softly admired!
Take away the high opinions
Give me real touch
To fawn on, to adulate
To feel you’re enough

Vindication has two different definitions, and they’re not at all alike
One is to remove someone from suspicion or blame
The other is to prove yourself right
That’s not how I want to spend the evening tonight
Even a white Mourning dove comes bearing a beak
The most indifferent amongst us would cite that as weak

But I am very familiar with my satin blush-pink bedspread
And after a long day when I rest my tired head

I think of white florals and play Baby Breath & Calla Lily film reels in my mind

Buy me a coffee & support my work!

Love poem: Work phone (could have)

Love poem: Work phone

Originally titled: Scattered in assembly, grief like parasites

Let’s see if the other songs make me feel the same
In the summer you would wildly bake
I’m making cookies for you
I’m so wrapped up
I’m losing track of time
The thought of you along with me for the ride sounds mighty sweet
Peaches in the summertime
Salt underneath the white sunlight

You tell me I have a way with words
I don’t talk to you

I been trying to find a band that makes music like yours does
If it’s snowing outside, then I’ll know it
If you’re hopeful about us, I hope you show it
Ambivalent remarks
I have a reason to be mad
But you know I don’t like to get like that
The soft, almost hypnotic but still remaining delicate, haze leaves embers that are more like satin than I could envision, truly
Truly I won’t ever forget about you
Even when I’m in my bedroom and there’s nothing else to do
I draw fine point flowers, the ways you liked
You’d carry your bike up the stairs
You were the perfect height

Underneath that tree that looks like a willow tree, but it’s not
Yeah, I get caught in my fears
And yeah, I haven’t heard your voice in years
I go to the market and buy flowers for none other than myself
I’m so selfish, it seems
I’m not who you want me to be
I’m so much better & I decided against writing you a letter
You probably never get the mail

I was so shy the whole time
But I wasn’t tearing myself apart inside
A healthy alarm
A life on a Midwest farm
In Chicago I always felt sad for the horses carrying the carriages
& I thought about how beautiful marriage is

I’m obsessive over pearl white highlighter for my cheeks
You could have called me from your work phone
If you wanted it that badly, you could have called me from your work phone
I don’t count the numbers when I’m cycling down the street
I have your first song on repeat
I love that you wrote it about me

Go back when, go back when trails were fierce
My blouse, then, on fire, ashes coating my decay
It felt so bad
It felt so bad
You didn’t notice I missed you when I’d find myself next to empty space
You couldn’t have known, just call me on the phone
You could’ve called me from your work phone

I was scared that when the clouds would disappear my imagination would be as the vacant sky
Vast, open land
Ill-fated farmer’s tan
Picking strawberries, with you they were so sweet
I asked if you knew what you were doing to me
Our secret spot by the bar with the brutal death metal concert posters all over the walls
I loved you when I was in hell
Thousands of secrets I never got to tell
Nothing you have is from me to keep
I only sing to you when you’re falling asleep

Coat me in amphetamines
Coat me in amphetamines
One of us knows each other the best
The darkness fades away, I put it to rest
Flourish in the marine ecosystem like I just learned how to swim and I feel like I never ever want to stop
Yeah, I know about mirror neurons
And I know my long blue dress turns you on
I remember all of our songs
I knew what was under the rug all along
I only pretended to misplace your things

You never got ahold of me
You never got ahold of me
Not saying goodbye was awfully bold of me
That’s not what I’m like, but my mind just changed
Summers covered with insurmountable levels of pain
Everything adds up
You won’t catch up
Coat me in amphetamines
You could have called me from your work phone

You could have called





Poem: Play the part (soft amber)

Poem: Play the part (soft amber)

I think I’ve gone mad
I cough in waves
A sphere of ballet-slipper pink encompasses me
The sole holder of what is now devoid
Empty nest
Cradle me
Hold me tight in the wind
I’m in distressed fashion, but not plastic
Changed my state of mind, nothing too drastic
Won’t call or rush you, I know you’ll panic
Can’t get enough of you, even after I’ve had it

Cashmere sweater to say hello to me
Cologne that moves me like sand taken back by the waves into the dawning paradise
The white sunshine’s rays take over the garden and backyard
I’m slender and concave
Hand on my neck
The mist of you breathing is like a slow song by violin
I go up in fumes
I like the sight of you
I’m delicate, not angry
I’m fine with a spoon and strawberry-mint sherbet
I like the things you say

We get along, so it’s easy
I blush and you tease me
You help me believe in

Clusters of smoke that I’ll find myself on the other side of
Passengers, waiting, anxious, gold watches
Time consumes eternity for eternity
The server is nice and kind
He smiles at both of us at the same time
We laugh, we don’t think he’s an ordinary guy
Make up worlds and things to comment on
My literature is your marketplace
My bookshelf is always kept well-dusted in the case that you visit
I’m prepared with strawberry lip balm
Rose-coloured cheek tint
Floral fragrance
Never forgotten
You call me quite often


On time every time
Dressed to look and play the part
Dressed how I like
Amber tones in your skin

I sip my afternoon tea and think
Of the way you looked when you turned towards me
Like entering a rose garden
Like getting home before six
Like clean dishes and cut grass
We love doing chores, we never get bored
We love telling each other our daily correspondences and farewells
We love sharing this satin sofa like its royal blue colour makes us think of wet blueberries on Monday morning
Fruit in plastic bags
Plastic bags in work bags
Work bags on shoulder
Three takes to get the perfect kiss just right

I’ll be seeing you in a few hours
And I’m so proud to play the part

You make it feel right





Share on twitter
Share on tumblr
Share on pinterest
Share on facebook
Share on email