Tag: love poems

Not a love poem: Swan lake memories

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Not a love poem: Swan lake memories

Butterflies flying into me, crashing lightly
You told me my skin was soft, and though I knew it to be true,
I felt in part indebted to you.
Like I couldn’t carve out a space
Large enough to climb into
Show you why your dreams are just make-believe

Not my responsibility to teach anybody anything
Because who do I think I am
Easily tan, have Swan Lake memorized & I do pirouettes in my dining room
I still remember the dress I planned to wear
Continues to hang on the shelf
I don’t look in that specific direction

A poem that is not a love poem because it doesn't have a happy ending, or an ending at all.

Not a love poem: Swan lake memories (continued)

Exhausted from doing nothing at all
About how your bad habits look even worse when I look into a microscope
Focusing on school
Highlighting my study materials
No, not you – there, waiting for me,
Opening the door
Letting me cry
Telling me you liked how I felt safe.

I want to hate the trees you like, but there are so many in every place I’ve visited in the last year, and I feel weak when I want to photograph them because they’re so beautiful, and memory plays in time-lapse frames to make me feel sick and dismal with its reminders.

I feel weak anyway
I know the neuroscience of loss, but who I wanted to be I forgot
You make me weak, you made me vulnerable
I loved it and I hated it
I retained it
Delicate like a fine-point pen drawing insects on your arm that isn’t covered in tattoos
I wish I could hate you

Not a love poem: Swan lake memories (continued)

I’ll move like a moth, I think you forgot
The area code that leads to a postcode
That leads to a telephone wire on an absolutely fragrant fire
In the middle of the city, and the chaos causes lawsuits
We like it because we’re in trouble
Playing tag in the backyard of your grandparents’ house
I miss the smell of hydrangeas
That changed colours
When they felt like it, like I do

I feel weak in places I didn’t know were part of me
When I see a tree
That makes me think, he must be there
Sitting pleasantly
Wasting his life without me

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Love poem: This is why

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Love poem: This is why

You are, shorter than my father
So maybe our babies
Could be small enough to fit in our pockets
Even when they want to leave the nest
(We won’t let them)

I am, not frail – but delicate
Have cuts all over my legs from traversing the wild hills that scrape the fields you envy when you drive past the street I’m claiming as my own for the evening
I’m alone in my own portal, and I’m trying to show this dog an earthly Heaven
Things don’t go as planned
Born in September, so plans for me are fun to make
And I wildly bake
In the crisp and fallen ashes of a crocodile fire
Lit by a herd of wild animals
That nobody else says were there

Love poem: This is why (continued)

I don’t, behave
On Wednesdays
A childlike ambience to my default state of
Cradling myself in bed and only coming out to feed
I am, unsure of who in my surroundings is fond of me
It’s something I push to the back of my tired brain
Don’t think about it, don’t analyze
This concept has yet to make sense
I do like when I wear a lilac top and these black shorts
To swim through fields of wheat mixed in with golden, sombre flowers
Holding my baby darling like a waterfall
She doesn’t, behave
On Mondays nor Tuesdays

And I
Love
Spilled oat milk
As it reaches my carpet & seeps in between the fabric
I lay on the ground
Thinking of how
He lied to me when he said he thought of me while writing those songs
It was just for the sake of conversation
When you find out someone’s romantic, so you play the role
That’s not how I want life to go

Love poem: This is why (continued)

I want nonchalance with a secret tendency to dramatize
That complements my inherent practicality and
Choice to turn this car around on the freeway by moving over the cement blocks that divide the different directional paths
Will I scare you like that?
Do I have to?

I have, two weeks to myself
Though filled with doctor appointments & studying for an exam that will
Determine where I go in life from here
To me, that’s thrilling
And you, are spilling

Oat milk in my kitchen, and it’s dripping
Making its way to the carpet
So I’m laughing
Because you’re obnoxious
But deeply honest

And this is why you and I are where ends meet

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Love poem: Why I stay far away from you

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Love poem: Why I stay far away from you

Lavender highlighter pens and derivatives of peptides
You, sitting across the aristocratic table from me
Bruised in a way that only you could contain
I need a gold medallion for your table manners, white & yellow daisy in a jar
Baby blue periwinkle Bambi dress, dress up for you
Hush, I’m trying to study
But it feels so lovely
The natural light bringing out the specks in your irises

You don’t, really talk too much.
You think you do, but you don’t
Just enough
Tip of my tongue
In flames falling all over the sidewalks for you
I miss you like white stains on my teeth
Think of you wearing turtleneck sweaters in the mountains high up
Cylindrical daydreams feel too soft, too hazy to be absorbed readily
Sad thing is they only stay dreams
Have to keep you far away from me
Cos if you were to come close
Oh, my baby blue, oh I’d love to really let go
I’d love to just let you know.

Love Poem: Why I stay far away from you (continued)

You know I love you so much, I swim like goldfish freed from a little paper cup or a balloon
Held by a child, shaken like a madman
I want you on the highways, the overlapping freeways that make me lose my mind every time
In Texas, in Calabasas, the swing-set of a family home
And how I wish I could just plead
For you to be the man I falsely believe I know you can be
How I know what you need
I’d love to just let you know.

Ultimately, I love you and accept you just as you are
I wouldn’t change a thing
So I have to separate myself
You and me in the same room, that’s violence
That’s you laughing at how I have no concept of what monopoly is nor how to play any type of card game
It’s you making fun of me for the cute things I say and do
It’s you making me fall in love with myself even more in a way only tenderness could do
And this is why I have to stay far away from you.

Love Poem: Why I stay far away from you (continued)

I was seated in the Victorian chair, studying my amino acids
Brought me the worst cup of coffee I ever did have
I drank it all – okay, maybe half, I kept looking at you
Focusing on your manuscript and I was smiling
Jagged edges
Confetti for a party that was never thrown
Like a mountain goat, I could climb diagonally towards you
Swim to you in thunderstorms
Tear you apart by looking at you – not once, but twice
I’m in love with how you look at me and how you don’t look at me and then you

Look up at me
And I’m studying the amino acids
Can’t get you out of my head, you’re the worst

A ghost can’t be in a coma
But a well-dressed boy is a blessing and a curse

You’re like a pill
I can’t
Take

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Free verse poetry: Dream garden (dust)

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Free verse poetry: Dream garden (dust)

Avalanche
Dream garden
February twenty-nine

Too beautiful to me, it is
The way the truth falls but doesn’t diminish its overwhelming servitude
Grief like hollow images and stills
To be flawed and fawned with grey embers & soft wax
Rolled on Ireland’s greenest pastures
My dream garden
My avalanche

I wake up endlessly absolving my sins, unraveling for you
Tell me what it is you want me to do
I’m so aware of what I can and cannot be
And I think it’s best you not be there for me
I tire in my own sleep

Morning cereal
For four in the afternoon
You wash over me like an
Avalanche
Like my dream garden
White roses and picket fences, freshly painted
Soft tuberose fragrance
Dismantling me from within
Fabricated and built in great jeopardy
Soft and of the finest fabric

I think of you in waterfalls, that I’ve never seen before
I ask you to close the door
I’m impatient in the mornings but by evening so wrapped up in comatose fiber sheath
Toying with my own nerves
On purpose
Like a fever dream
Like ants unscrambled
Running out of fear, hiding beneath dust
Moving pollen and feathers to their corporate offices

When I pass by you on the street
With my kitten heels and utmost softness
Try not to
Try not to

Go back to your dream garden
Your avalanche
Beneath dust

Connected by the sheer composition that melts in broad daylight
Collectively held at
A disadvantage
Brought together in the Spring when the ambiance paints a different mood
For the dust underneath the conjoining ether
Without reserve
Still and unenthusiastic
Hopeful, yet without meaning

Find me in my personal dream garden
When the smoke clears

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Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

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Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Wild sweet jasmine
To be your
Ruby red grapefruit, in the evenings
I created the end, and I made it into a new beginning
Cowboys on ranches far away
White carnations
Love letters – February through May
The bitter ruins of my golden but soft decay
My work is my turmoil, my kingdom is where I’ve come home to play
Twirl my hair around thorns, like the ocean
Softly sway
Hips in the distance
Grey fossils, treasured finds
A new day, a fresh surprise
My loving green eyes

Tan corduroy jacket
Your bitter resentment
Hollow times with crisp features
A medieval castle for which the chambers held me too tightly
At an uneven slant
A rug on the floor of rather ravishing woodwork
Fine craftsmanship
Estranged notices
French boutiques
Dolls, eerily
Arranged
In singular form
Entranced forever
When you say your prayers, who are you saying them to
Do you believe they can hear you?

John Wayne’s face engraved on a keychain I bought in a tiny town in Texas
The boys were awfully nice
They said the funniest things
I could imagine, I could imagine
Turning suddenly
Away from the shore
Hardly ever get bored
Always waiting for more
Deftones on megaphones
White leather cowboy boots, whatever fashion means to you
It means nothing to me; I’m so at peace in the wild country
I want to be smothered in everything
I want the most handsome boy in the entire world to come marry me

A sticker peeling off a cup, washed one too many times
I saw what you wrote in your letter
I thought you hinted at
Despondency
It was transparent
So fluid I almost didn’t have to read between the margins
You held your gaze low
I knew what you were about
I can ache but I can hardly shout
Not a day goes by where I don’t rearrange my doubts
And I may mean little to you, but that’s something to think about
The violent vehemence of what this rendition says in whispers to you, me
My small town
My spam risk
My desolate, brisk characteristics like islets of weakness and Beethoven
Beaming down the hallway
Fresh-faced, rosy
She’s so pretty, she’s so pretty, she’s so graceful & pretty
Mid-16th century dream queen

Am I reminiscent of anything that bores you to death
Amphitheaters of despair
Hold me
Unfold me
Run wild with me

Be forever unafraid with me

Who do you say your prayers to
Do you really believe they can hear you