Tag: female author

Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume

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Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume

I don’t want nothin’
The taste in my mouth
To want is to crave is to isolate
Like you’re sick

I may care to admit that it was my fault
My not bothering to understand you, ask the things that really mattered
What is it that you do to relax after a stressful day?
Tell me about the things that frighten you
Make sure for our sake that I’m not one of those things

Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)

I’m a dandelion
In your crystal abyss of a forlorn cave,
I don’t cry very often
I want you to hold me throughout the day
Feel close to me
I’m free-flowing like a loose feather
A father that doesn’t scold his kid
A mother who holds you right back

Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)

I’m driving, just like everybody.
Driving you crazy, but I think you like it
I’m obsessed with roses and peonies and you’re obsessed with my Burberry perfume
We make a good pair and I like the way I look in the windowpane glare
Cos I’m happy for some reason, for some reason,
Can you tell; can you tell?

You drive a jaguar, no, I’m just kidding
It’s a Subaru
Do you have any reason to believe that I don’t think you’re super cute
You drink your key lime and strawberry
And you like my Burberry
Perfume the way it
Sneaks up on ya
Don’t ya wanna
Hold me forever for the rest of the night

Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)

An auteur to be reckoned with, to be recognized
I saw the way you polish your shoes
Like you want to fade into the background
I’ll grab you right back
I’m hospitable like that
Sit next to you on a garden swing

Love poem: Polished shoes & Burberry perfume (continued)

Don’t ya wanna
Hold me forever for the rest of the day
Don’t you want to
Tell me you’re going to stay

The singular beauty
As an eternal optimist

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Love poem: Sweetness in February

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Love poem: Sweetness in February

Sometimes I look at, my flowers that have died
And I find them more beautiful than when they were alive.

Last year, my family got the most beautiful, dark-green noble fir Christmas tree we ever had
In a pop-up parking lot full of his friends
I personally found him more appealing before he was decorated
Then I cut 6 inches off my hair
No more split ends

Love poem: Sweetness in February (continued)

Somebody stole our Christmas ornaments from the car
The little cute animals my mother and I laughed about when we saw them in a store forever ago
I hope they felt happy in their new home,
Wherever they ended up,
I just hope they weren’t disposed.

Some people – you start to feel disposable to them,
Like the sweetness you carry doesn’t bear any weight,
Like it means nothing that whatever stories they tell you, will never be shared with a single soul
Not used as small talk to break the ice
Never told at “parties”
That I imagine I’d be attending with my future lover because other people have families & other people have friends & other people have obligations & events
Birthdays to attend
& other people might wonder why I’m not there, and I want to be more than polite for I’m awfully curious
About that sort of life.
I pretend I’m not but,
I really am.

Love poem: Sweetness in February (continued)

I didn’t want you for your money or what you promised me
I was just so calm when I would laugh with you
You introduced me to emojis
Now I use them constantly
You’re well aware I love cuteness
I know you favour my modesty
Something got in our way
You may not want to admit it was from both sides
I never knew you that well
Though of course I still cried

Come to my front gate
Wait in front of your car
I’ll wear the outfit I picked out
At the very start

Come to my front gate
To see me, now
I’ll wear full-on sweats
So you have nothing to think about

Love poem: Sweetness in February (continued)

But I know you a little more than I think I do
Who knows if I’ll ever find out if that’s true
I know you a tiny bit more than you think you do
Who knows if you’ll ever understand that it’s true

Sometimes I look at, my flowers that have died
And I find them more beautiful than when they were alive.

Valentine’s Day is coming up…!!!!

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I own, perform maintenance on, and of course write all of my poetry by myself – and any amount could really help keep the dream alive! https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/lilacdoveCA

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons)

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Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons)

Nuclear envelopes
A testable hypothesis
Will you still love me if I –
Will you drown me out
Like the noise in a soundproof room
He always said he’d like to go to solitary confinement just to get away
For a honeymoon

Light leaks
Asparagine and leucine
Convoluted sighs and my pink floor-length satin dress
Eating three times on Mondays,
Eating four times, the day after
Consuming enough carbohydrates to be like a plant
A prisoner in your gardener
A wide-awake blooming orchid
Couch that fell from a truck bed onto the motorway
We could just make it ours
Watch the fires and fireflies swarm in the distance
Devouring apricots
A routine for my bedtime

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]

Letting go of lethargic tendencies
But I don’t have the energy
I’m miserable, with or without you
Have to be the writer of my own memoir, the heroine in my own maladaptive daydreams
That serve me quite well
Like soft serve by the beach
Made from plant-based oat milk & Oreos
I’ll let the sea and the sun and the sky devour me, so I can merge with the ants and
Worry only about my colony
What a dream it’s becoming

Empty head
Empty thoughts
Your Percocet
My writer’s block
I’ve been too, afraid, to put this down on paper
A typewriter with no keys
Hands that swell
Knees that bleed
I know perfectly well
That I’m who you need
Will you be there for me, in the daylight and the evenings?
My handsome prince
Tread carefully
I’m exactly who I aspire to be

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]

I believe in myself, most of all
Though, the cognitive dissonance gets swept like ashes
At a fireplace
Melting, blurring a reality that you swore was three-dimensional
You vase of a porcelain starlit galaxy
You atmospheric void, claustrophobic from your own apprehension
I’m so in love with every part of you
Especially the pieces you really disdain

I’ll take them in my hands
Like the softest of sand

Poem: Ant colony (birthday balloons) [continued]

I don’t know what to do with all these birthday balloons
The vinyl you bought me, thank you, by the way
You precious thing.
And the things I have to move on from
Tangled in grief-ridden spiderwebs
Merging through lanes with my blinker forever on
I follow all the laws
When the crows are watching, carefully

I’ll let the sea and the sun and the sky devour me, so I can merge with the ants and
Worry only about my colony
What a dream it’s becoming

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Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

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Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

My day in the blistering sunshine
I wish your hand was latched onto mine
Except when you held it too tight, it hurt, and I said nothing because I was engulfed in the ivory, acrylic paint of the walls
I wish you could soothe me like you do your male friends

I got, rather presumptive
I thought we could make it work because it felt so worth it
Like the tides would change & our circumstances wouldn’t get the best of us
When I fell into old subservient patterns,
That I thought I wouldn’t
I said, screw it
We could work through it
But the tables that turned against me had thorns
My blood wasn’t well & I was increasingly worn
Down by the extent of which, I wanted it to work
A violent but quiet discomposure

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

Down by the bayside
I’ll never forget when an acoustic version of a song I loved in middle school (still do) came on
You threw your head back and sang so softly
I found it mildly alarming how awfully charming
And crisply ambient the evening felt right then and there
My eyes started to tear, and I wiped them real fast
I thought if it could be like this, we’d be golden
Nothing to take & everything to give
That is the drawback to my diplomacy
It doesn’t quite work out for me

Now I’m basking in the feverish sunshine
Hearing the lyrics in my mind
How true they conform to the set of conditions that unveiled my gentle but muted position
I wanted all of it to feel just like that
Right then and there, I was far too aware
That you are a beautiful human being only when you get what you want

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

But I can’t always play the right song
And moments in passing affect my brain far too strong
I latch on

If we could have just stayed at that stop light forever
We would’ve made it work
If you could have sang lullabies to lull me to sleep
We still couldn’t have made it work

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Love poem: Fell back in love with me

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Love poem: Fell back in love with myself

I am, a dandelion that’s losing its ligules
A dandelion on the street
Stepped on, on repeat – bracing the wind, but falling apart
Missing my roots
Crying because I won’t be in a vehicle with my father ever again
But the koala-grey sidewalk embraces me like its only friend

Gasping, breaking, compact but fragile – for eternity
Not asking anyone to save me
Because rap songs taught me that’s commonly dismissed
Neglected and disposed of
(Why am I so delicate?)
I breathe it and I love it, but God please help me, I’m exasperated
I wear my orthodox cross like it’s the most expensive diamond given to a queen
Nobody ever suspects a thing

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself (continued)

A guy once bought me, the most beautiful fiddle leaf fig tree
That I picked out, of course
Girl knows her houseplants
My bedroom lacked the sunshine to keep my baby alive
I wept on the floor staring at its fallen brown pieces
Feeling like I was one of them
Breaking for eternity
Shrivelling up and no longer green, but serene
I swallow the ground whole with my desire to love more than I ever have before
Time, and time, again.

You know, a girl, who truly loves flowers
Never “gets used” to receiving them
Each time is special, savoured, like those commercials with women and chocolate
I stop walking every few feet to capture a flower
One day, a boy said to me, “do you have to stop every time”
That was the end of him and I
Of course, I do
That’s what happens when you’re in love with white, pink, red, yellow, and blue
The colours dash through your mind when you’re not scrolling on your phone
Remembering the hydrangeas from Venice Beach
The sunset blooms at the rose garden at the museum where you spent your birthday in your own solid company
Breaking in composite structures
Swallowing the rose petals on the ground

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself (continued)

The dandelions on the street
Say something on repeat

They love me, they live through me
They engulf quite the vast part of me
And every piece of their frail self that flies away with the breeze
Becomes deeply embedded within me
And I love it, like cotton
I roll it, like marbles
If I’m ever, forgotten

I hope botany never is

Love poem: Fell back in love with myself (continued)

I know a girl
That will never “get used” to flowers
So endlessly abundant but single-handedly make this life worth it

They love me, they love me
They live right through me
I walk on the concrete
Looking for myself

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