Lines from Starbucks/081211?

Lines from Starbucks:

Power lines and poetics,
portables and pathetics.
Love and round tables,
luggage and brown stables.
Daisies and good times,
deer and pantomimes.
Paper napkins and spoons,
petals and blue moons.
Confetti and breaking waves,
cries and silent graves.
Romance and Fall classes,
red and sunglasses.
Wood and makeshift stories,
wonderings and false glories.

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Untitled/090314

One sunrise six years ago.
Feels like a lifetime though.
We knew we might be impossible.
Still we didn’t let that stop us.
Now we’ll struggle with this love,
For the rest of our lives and always.
You and I, me and you.
A million tears, two thousand days,
and a hundred poems.
I love you today,
But can I love you tomorrow?

The Radio (Just Being)

Sometimes I wish I could leave and never come back.
Just get away from what I’ve known all my life.
All this time never living, just being.
I want to feel the world.
Find something amazing, real, and true.
Scream at the top of my lungs for joy.
See someone smile at me because I made them happy.
Tell everyone my biggest secrets.
I hope I can reach even just one person.

Sometimes I wish I could leave and never come back.
Just get away from what I’ve known all my life.
All this time never living, just being.
Runaway from what hurts the most.
I’m trying not to hold anything too close.
Color the sky with my dreams.
I won’t change for you or anyone else.
Stuck with the ache of what I’ve done and what I couldn’t do.
Opportunities missed for lack of ambition.

Sometimes I wish I could leave and never come back.
Just get away from what I’ve known all my life.
All this time never living, just being.
I’m spending these days being afraid of falling.
Never ready to just jump.
Losing the dark in the corners of my room.
Crying to the radio alone.
Smiling thru sobs and sniffles.

*Note: Writing Your Hands earlier reminded me of a poem I wrote several years back and so I was looking for it and came across this poem instead. I wrote this on July 30th 2007. I was 17 and counting down the days until I could leave home and move into a dorm room and experience my first taste of the “real” world. Reading it now, I remember how angry I was at my dad because he didn’t want me to go and how mad I was at myself because I didn’t try very hard on my SATs so my scores were only so-so and because I didn’t apply for more scholarships. One of my favorite songs at the time was Elephant and Castle by Houston Calls, it was basically my anthem. I’ve seen, felt, experienced, loved, lost, created, and so much more in the almost 9 years since I wrote this poem and a small piece of me wishes I would tell 17 year old me how amazing her life is going to be, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise for her (even though I know she hates surprises). I’d at least tell her that she’s going to matter to a lot of people and that she’ll see someday how much she’s always mattered. I like reading my old poems and kind of contrasting them with what has happened since I wrote them. I think I’ll share some more poems from the journal this one was in throughout this week. So even if I don’t manage to write anything that I like this week, I’ll at least share some poems from my younger self.

November Something

You are in every breeze,
every sunrise,
every ripple of the water,
every falling leaf.
Every second whispers your name.
It’s simple and
it’s been written before.
But it feels like the truth.
With every breath, I miss you.
You’re my heart.
Always.

 

*Note: I wrote this poem back in November of 2015, but I neither dated it nor titled it, which is weird for me. So November Something seems like a fitting enough title, especially since the person who inspired the poem has a November birthday and I was most likely thinking about said birthday when I penned this.

Plans Yet To Be Carried Out

Your 86 Volvo.
Santa Monica,
to ride the carousel.
Pants cuffed to the knee.
Cold sand and fish tacos.
Oversized shades with sunscreen.
Smiles in cell phone pictures.
Blanket wrapped up PCH.
Stories and memories retold.
Your 86 Volvo.
“Home,”
to love you.

 

*Note: I actually wrote this poem about 7 years ago, but it has always been one of my favorite things that I’ve written, so I wanted to share it.