366 Poems: DECEMBER 31ST, 2016

New Me, Still Me 

(Seabirds)

I took a trip outside the reef

to where white seabirds soar,

and took upon an ocean

that I’d sailed some years before.

And the tides pulled a different way

than planned, but I won’t groan

from friends and falls and memories

that made this sea a home.

Now imagine a little girl

looking out with no name.

Imagine a young woman

looking inward just the same.

Imagine they are meeting,

turning onward and before.

Imagine seabirds flying–

calling, searching,

writing,

forevermore.

.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Advertisements

366 Poems: December 1st, 2016

Christmas List

It’s very difficult to write a Christmas list

when you’re 17,

mainly because nothing you really want can be given.

For example: dear family,

for Christmas this year, I would like…

a free ride to college,

a way to stop time,

a semester full of art classes,

a new President Elect,

a CD for my car with room for 50+ songs,

cheaper gas,

a smaller desire to go to Dairy Queen each night,

a clear future,

a chance for my boyfriend to VERY INNOCENTLY spend the night,

a chance to sleep in,

a chance to eat breakfast,

a chance to go to bed at a reasonable hour,

a chance to figure

everything

out…

.

Maybe adults need a Santa Claus too.

“Grown Up Christmas List”
http://gensoukai12.deviantart.com/

366 Poems: October 23rd, 2016

Acne-Prone

Please excuse the spots on my face.

For it’s been a couple

late nights

where the work and stress outrun

the bathroom sink,

making me look like a teenager

in some coming-of-age movie.

Oh wait.

I am.

But I’be got no makeup artists here.

Just a face

with some eyes

and a brain

and a plan to change my entire world

for the better…

Do not excuse my face.

This is my game face.

And you’re gonna have to get used to it.

366 Poems: October 20th, 2016

Our Home

I said aloud, “Someday we’ll have a home,”

inside the sandwich shop of plastic stone,

not far from the grey atmospheric dome

that just today, left us afraid to roam.

But there is home and it sits in your smile

that takes this space and makes the grey worthwhile

and speaks the sweetest question I have known–

I promise, dear, someday we’ll have a home.

366 Poems: September 6th, 2016

I Trust You

(A Notebook Dedication)

I’ve been fearing these pages for weeks now,

but I think it’s time to face them.

Mark them.

Waste them on short poetry lines.

Because I don’t think I have ever been so afraid of change

as I am now.

I have never been so scared

to finish a notebook,

to start a new one.

Why?

Well then I was much less happy

than I am now.

I wanted things to change, for goodness sake!

And now I am tired

of constantly finding different directions.

I want to settle in

to an endless stream of paper and blissful imagination.

But alas, I know that’s not the case…

I mean, things change.

Life happens.

It sucks.

And even if we’re constantly begging for something new we still wish we could live

in the past.

I suppose I should just get used to it.

But how do I do that

without making myself

unhappy?

The lines are running out

and I know that I won’t find my answer

here.

But girl, you have always been smart.

You have always been very, very strong

ever since you wrote your first note,

did your first crazy thing,

found the person you wanted to become.

And no matter what you do,

I trust you

to do what is necessary to bring you joy.

I will always fear the future.

I will always fear time.

I will always fear love and the loss of it.

But I refuse to fear myself.

I refuse

to fear

you.

.

And I know that this story is exactly as long as you want it.

366 Poems: September 5th, 2016

Haunted

In my room’s window pane,

there’s a stare in the glare–

very different and dark

from what often hides there.

And just straight through my door

there’s a heart, on the floor,

bleeding red for someone

who will come back no more.

In the lawn, through the grass

sounds the breaking of glass

as the muggers and thieves

run and flee as they pass.

And my ghost, she’s the host

of this shadowy place.

She is hers all her own

and no one owns her space.

But she’s mine, for the while

because since that dark night,

when I saw that the window

did not stare quite right,

and the floor held a beat,

and a scream filled the street–

There the ghost, she came in

and swept me from my feet.

And she cried in my ear

about failure, and fear

and losing every warm thing

that my fingers held dear…

And I hugged her.

I hugged her so tight.

I apologized for the world

and how everything had not been quite so

alright.

Now the ghost, she lights candles

that she blows out at night.

And she protects me from every hell.

.

And I see, she is me.

(Oh it’s easy to tell.)

But I promised her that she could shout.

She could cry, she could plead,

she could hack all the blog sites

and write it down

as she needs…

You don’t need

to beat the ghost.

You just need to set her

free.