So, I've been slacking bad on blogging lately, guys, I'm so sorry. This quarter has been crazy, but I promise to become more diligent again in the near future. Since I'm taking a poetry seminar I will be giving you some original stuff tonight . . . hope ya'll enjoy. Keep your faces to the sunshine!
Notes on Emotion
They say tears show weakness
Some say tears are failure leaving the body
But maybe they're heartache, maybe they're unbearable pain.
They say tears show weakness,
But maybe they're simply a sign you're alive.
Laughter is the best medicine,
or so I've heard.
Belly laughs inducing tears; that's where the magic happens.
And lying in bed, tangled in skin,
your body's smell; that's the truest medicine.
The Barkeep's Scenery
Neon lights flicker in faceless windows
and inside, noses dive towards the bottom of chilled glasses
while a jukebox plays Patsy Cline and I think of you.
The barkeep buys the next round,
wiping circles on the grainy wood with a dish rage
and I consider picking up nicotine as a habit, again.
Just as I imagine tear ducts exploding with salt water,
a redhead comes in the door and sits by me.
I try to buy her a drink, but then I catch her eye;
only here, only I, can recognize pain numbed at a liver's expense.
Moonlight delivers nostalgia for hands on hips
and a black streaked face is left wanting,
wanting, not knowing what to want.
Big blue eyes and small hands change my mind,
my mind and my heart, but when I turn
where are you?
I hear the news, the news of those impending nuptials
and the growing nugget and somehow find it within myself,
within myself to wish you well.
I miss the dance,
the dance of sheets and knees,
of slick skin and tangled hair.
Who knew I'd be here, in this moment,
wanting these things, these things not one regret could
Who knew I'd be here, in this house,
questions of importance hanging,
hanging like dust bunnies tap-dancing.
Life is strong,
strong and lovely . . .
Who knew I'd flourish without,
without your kindness.