I kept telling myself
you’d end up staying
Did you stay awake
all night again?
I think you’re the only
one who knows I’m
lying every time I say no
Fuck
28 Tuesday Aug 2012
Posted Poetry
in28 Tuesday Aug 2012
Posted Poetry
inI kept telling myself
you’d end up staying
Did you stay awake
all night again?
I think you’re the only
one who knows I’m
lying every time I say no
28 Tuesday Aug 2012
Posted Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
inTags
Yes, I know that it’s pointless
to write poetry but I’m not
betting on where it gets me,
nowhere’s pretty cozy and
you’re embarassed of my lower
class priorities, don’t excuse me
of my politics because you can’t
apologize for your ivy league
privilege and you’re probably far
too rich to laugh at this so if you
ever read my poetry I hope you
find it borderline offensive and
as classless as my liberal arts
degree in a mediocre passion that
I can only hope comes in handy
teaching public high school classes
in a neighborhood you haven’t
gentrified or even passed through
and pumped your gas in. I swear:
no blood, no phenotype, or late
loved one could make me take
this back or convince me that I’m
relevant–what’s a relative if I’ve
never felt related? I swear to you
and on her grave since she’s been
dead we haven’t been a family and
I’m not afraid to admit that this
whole time I too was pretending.
28 Tuesday Aug 2012
Posted Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
inTags
change, climate, death, erosion, nature, Poem, Poems, Poetry, sahara, sahara sandstorm, sand, sand dunes, sand storm, science, static, static state, uncategorized, writing
What I would give to
be a lone grain within a
Sahara sandstorm
a fragment of drought
scattering itself across
nowhere, singing with
the slow erosion. I long
to be this, to be loved
despite it. You’ll always
drag your fingers through
me
how many grains can
the gusts steal before
a dune is gone? There’s
no such thing as a static
state: Everything dies
still nothing rests.
27 Monday Aug 2012
Posted love, Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
inTags
absence, border, change, clock, death, desert, forget, fragment, future, heart, hour, liberation, liminal, liminality, love, memory, mind, nostalgia, past, Poem, Poems, Poetry, presence, present, rain, sand, sandstorm, science, second, time, timeless, uncategorized, writing
The essence of detail
in relation to the portrayal
of the past: everything is
fleeting
and all we want is the
memory. We obsess, in
presence, absence.
Recollection is timeless
and there is no parallel
because in all we choose
to remember, to forget–is
the ability to destroy
every hour that defines
this, every border that
defines us. To cope with
everything’s impermanence
we defy what kills all of
us–how liberating! To be a
lone sandstorm scattering
itself, to be so fragmented, so
desultory like desert rain (no
memory ever has a place,
in mind) and I long to be this,
to be loved despite it.
26 Sunday Aug 2012
Posted Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized, writing
inAll my clothes are dirty
and there’s something
sentimental about wearing
last week right now–or maybe
it’s just the smell of you–
or is it the red wine blemish
on my sleeve?
I don’t want to forget
what is already so hard
to remember. Regardless,
I’m hesitant of centrifugal
forces and their ability
to cleanse me but still
I do my laundry as most would.