Tag Archives: Poems

silent too long

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I’ve been keeping this notebook by my bed
and I haven’t written a damn thing.

I can’t keep living
a wordless existence.
I can’t sustain this silence.
A blank page is a sin
an unexpressed thought, a loss.
I’ve been mute too long.
Even a marble statue
emotes.

loneliness
is the worst curse a human being can bear
it’s why we obsess about

love

identity

society

family

none of us can stand to be alone
and a good person
will not suffer to see
another one
in isolation.

Without the capacity to communicate
we are diminished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

11/19

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My siblings text each other,
A net to catch and diffuse the grief.

Three years ago? Is that all?
Is that a long time, or a short time?
I can’t tell.

When I first started this blog, all of my poems were about you.
Now I have moved on to lesser things.
But once in a while
The wound reopens, raw to the air.

I swore to learn to cry.
I’ve gotten better.
But this winter and the holidays
They make me think of you
a dull inner ache
and I keep smiling.
The difference is
I write, too.

You wouldn’t want us to hurt.
You wouldn’t want any pain for us.
You did all you could to spare us.
We were happy.
We are happy.
But life isn’t just smiles, is it?
Sometimes life is scraped fingers
Bruised knees, twisted ankles
High fevers and learning to stand up for yourself.
You knew this too.

This time of year I wear your long jacket.
It keeps my legs warm.
It’s very dignified.
I still see you wearing it
Helping you over the curb with your walker
to the Chinese restaurant
for Orange Chicken. Always Orange Chicken.
Orange Chicken for life.
The waitress took it kindly
When you told her you loved her
And gave her a hug.
She could tell something was wrong.
I smiled at her discomfiture
And apologized with my eyes
But deep down
I wanted to be you right then.

This chocolate shake is for you.
Happy birthday mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Journal – Keeping Friends

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You always had friends, she says
Dismissively
But it makes me sad.

People love her.
Why doesn’t she have friends?
It’s not, as she attributes it, extroversion
Introverts make friends all the time.

I think it has more to do with forgiveness.
She can’t forgive a slight
imagined or otherwise.
When you imagine the best of people
You’re usually right.
When you imagine the worst of people
You’re usually right.

I can’t change her outlook.
I can’t teach her to forgive.
But if she can learn to forgive herself
She might learn to forgive others.
If she can learn to forgive others
She might be able to keep a friend.

Making friends is easy.
Keeping friends is hard.
I’ve won countless friends.
I have lost more friends than I’ve ever kept.
Some of them
For whatever reason
Stick.
Maybe they’re capable of forgiving my countless unconscious cruelties
My rough treatment
My tactlessness
Maybe they consider what I can give
to be worth what I take.
Maybe they’re able to accept my forgiveness
for the things they think they’ve done.

My friendships have been tried.
So many times
I don’t know what happened
but I lose them anyway.
I follow them until I realize
They’re not looking back at me.
This too, I must forgive.
And myself
For how I must have hurt them
Though I don’t know what it was.

Maybe no one did anything wrong.
Maybe it’s just nature
People come and go
Friendships rise and fall
with the changing tides.
Maybe I need more flexibility.

This is why I consider a friendship that sticks
Incredibly valuable.
Whatever alchemy
Has bonded us together
I refuse to let fall by the wayside.
Fight, drama, damage, conflict in values

I never considered myself loyal.
Loyalty always implied to me
That I would take their side no matter what.
That’s not what I do.
I consider rights and wrongs
According to my own ethics.
I try to make peace
Between them and their enemies
it’s the forgiveness thing again.
But I do love them no matter what.
Maybe that’s what loyalty really is.

Look at how good I make myself sound.
Somewhere in here is a lie
Somewhere in here is denial
That’s what it is to be human
We tell stories
We tell lies
even to ourselves.
I am not seeing something.
Maybe by love I am enacting hate,
My loyalty is fickleness,
My ethics are cold,
And my forgiveness is judgment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Confidence Building

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I once was a mountain
I now am a mote.
I tore myself to pieces
yanked the fragrant stands of pine
tumbled the elegant waterfalls
bloodied my hands
tore my nails
bent my back
ground the last pebble
under my heel
until I was just
miserable dust.

I once was a mote
I now am a castle.
I built myself up
bricks to crenellated battlements
magnificent masonry
exhausted and proud.

I light a match
and burn me all down again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it’s fine.

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hold still and listen.

you have time.

that dead weight pressing down from overhead,
the ticking clock,
the way it interrupts silence,
Louder,
Louder,
Louder.
an illusion.

you have time.

time to make, time to fill
there is always
one more minute.

talk to your friends
waste your moments
make french toast
watch TV
read books
create
vegetate

that buried alive feeling
the you-havent-done-enough
the you-havent-done-it-right
the you-arent-who-you-should-be

you made that up.
leave it behind and see how nothing changes
except a renewed sense of freedom
freedom
a cool breeze, a new car, a flushed cheek

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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