Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Saturday, March 24, 2012

It's okay if no one believes like you


I think life lately has been telling me to watch this again. A friend showed it to me for the first time at least a year ago, but just in the last few weeks, it's been mentioned at least three times by different people. I took it as a sign that I've been needing to see it again.

How To Be Alone - Tanya Davis

If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you've not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren't okay with it, then just wait. You'll find it's fine to be alone once you're embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places: the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, were you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there, where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You're not supposed to talk much anyway, so it's safe there.

There's also the gym. If you're shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in.

And there's public transportation, because we all gotta go places.

And there's prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you're hanging out with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously based on your "avoid being alone" principles.

The lunch counter, where you will be surrounded by chow-downers, employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town and so they - like you - will be alone. Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with eat lunch and run, take yourself out for dinner - a restaurant with linen and silverware. You're no less intriguing a person when you're eating solo dessert, cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger. In fact, some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies, where it is dark and soothing, alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community. And then, take yourself out dancing to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor til the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one's watching...because they're probably not. And if they are, assume it is with the best of human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you're sweating, and beads of perspiration remind you of life's best things, down your back like a brook of blessings.

Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.

Go to an unfamiliar city. Roam the streets - there are always statues to talk to, and benches made for sitting give strangers a shared existence if only for a minute, and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversations you get in by sitting alone on benches might've never happened had you not been there by yourself.

Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts wasting away in basements, like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. But lonely is a freedom that breathes easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it.

You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner, look both further and farther for the endless quest for company. But no one's in your head and by the time you translate your thoughts some essence of them may be lost or perhaps it is just kept.

Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school's groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Because if you're happy in your head, then solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It's okay if no one believes like you. All experience is unique. No one has the same synapses, can't think like you - for this, be relieved. It keeps things interesting, life's magic things in reach.

And it doesn't mean you're not connected, that community's not present. Just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it. Take silence and respect it. If you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it. If your family doesn't get you, or religious sect is not meant for you, don't obsess about it.

You could be in an instant surrounded if you needed it. If your heart is bleeding, make the best of it. There is heat in freezing. Be a testament.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

(part of) Bandito - Eleanor Lerman

...
This, by the way, this is not a fantasy
It is page 69 (ha ha!) of the manual
I read when we were planning
the takeover

So it didn't happen—so what?
This is better
Wait until I tell you
what's on the next page


These last two stanzas are what really make this poem for me.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Room 516

blue sticky tack still on the side of the shelves, a long red hair stuck in it
a crack in the white plastic light fixture
plate on the south wall, its slight tilt that drove me a little crazy
irremovable safety rail on the side of the bed
drawer, third from the bottom, that only stays shut when it's empty
remaining furniture rearranged
missing a refrigerator because I brought my own
but that impossible microwave is there, the one that always burnt the popcorn
a teal plastic hook that I forgot in the bathroom
and the drain in the shower completely loose
missing its screws since it was fixed
scuffs of maroon scarring the west wall
reminders of the chair that once sat there

Important things happened here,
where I found perfection in the imperfections.

6:59 AM - Shane Koyczan


I've been told
that people in the army
do more by 7:00 am
than I do
in an entire day

but if I wake
at 6:59 am
and turn to you
to trace the outline of your lips
with mine
I will have done enough
and killed no one
in the process.

Monday, May 30, 2011

In a romantic mood tonight

...but then again, when am I not?


  • Pride and Prejudice playing on my tv
  • champagne-colored nail polish
    • TOTES wearing this for Lauren's wedding
  • probs ending this calm evening with a little Pablo Neruda
  • this movie has one of the best soundtracks I've heard
    • especially "Dawn"
Also, I happen to be surrounded by young, single men. And they're all pre-priests. Greeeat.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Man in the Moon

I will see you in the moon,
and you can find me in the stars.
In the violet dusk on the horizon
over the ocean in front of you,
I'm there, refusing to be
swallowed by the city lights.
I found my glimmer in you
and my twinkle in your eyes.
Speak to me, man in the moon,
and I'll wait here in the night.
I'm listening for you,
glistening for you,
and you can find me in the stars.

For two very special men on two very different coasts. Miss you so much.

Monday, May 23, 2011

The Unwritten - W.S. Merwin

Inside this pencil
crouch words that have never been written
never been spoken
never been taught

they're hiding

they're awake in there
dark in the dark
hearing us
but they won't come out
not for love not for time not for fire
even when the dark has worn away
they'll still be there
hiding in the air
multitudes in days to come may walk through them
breathe them
be none the wiser
what script can it be
that they won't unroll
in what language
would I recognize it
would I be able to follow it
to make out the real names
of everything

maybe there aren't
many
it could be that there's only one word
and it's all we need
it's here in this pencil

every pencil in the world
is like this

For my fellow writers, especially those who are just beginning.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

I can't remember the song I wanted to use as the title of this post and it's driving me nuts.


There are words colliding in my head
like strangely shaped stones
with sharp spikes and rounded curves.
I want to hurl them at you in screams
or offer them in a whisper
so you can barely hear them.
I tried to write them away,
but those words are still
trapped in my mind, jumbled and
thunking against my skull.
So I melted them and
poured them out of my eyes
to the one who already knows them by heart
and knows he can’t do anything
but try to catch them.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Thoughts without words

Two long bodies
stretched out on a dorm bed
intimate moments relaxing
in the space between
Thoughts without words
displayed through
a head on a shoulder
a hand on a knee
Resting their tired eyes
until the music runs out
then into the silence
comfortable and easy

Friday, March 18, 2011

Student - Ted Kooser

The green shell of his backpack makes him lean
into wave after wave of responsibility,
and he swings his stiff arms and cupped hands,

paddling ahead. He has extended his neck
to its full length, and his chin, hard as a beak,
breaks the cold surf. He's got his baseball cap on

backward as up he crawls, out of the froth
of a hangover and onto the sand of the future,
and lumbers, heavy with hope, into the library.

I'm sure you can all figure out who this is for.

Monday, February 28, 2011

I think I like today...

"...I think it's good...it's something I can't get my head around."

Basically, today was fantastic.

I hardly slept last night because I was so inspired to edit a poem I had posted on here a while ago. I changed it three times last night, then completely overtook it twice again this afternoon. When I was finally satisfied and could read it aloud and feel the ebb and flow of my heart along with it, I submitted it to Shadows, the literary magazine. Who knows whether it'll be accepted or not. Regardless, I will hopefully get some comments on it to see what the staff liked and what they would have changed. Look at me, learning how to take criticism.

Classes were typical, nothing special. But my assignments for the weekend were pretty dang easy, which is really nice. Had my meeting with Mandi (mah booosssss), which went really well. She said that I was mentioned in a few weekly reports, even though she had only sent one comment to me. That made me feel incredible, to be honest. All I want is to make my friends feel good about themselves. All I want is to help, and it's nice to hear that I did every once in a while.

Dinner with wonderful friends, of course, made the day even better. Steph is finally back! :) Also, I began listening to Kerrigan-Lowdermilk's album that I bought on iTunes last week, and I can't get enough. Especially this song. It just makes me want to dance - I'm feeling lyrical with that one. OH, and after dinner. Shannon took me to the stress-relief program they were having in McGloin: PUPPIESSSS. Oh my goodness.

I feel pretty today. I legitimately dressed up, with a sweater-dress and leggings and boots and all. Why? Umm...just because? I felt like looking hot today! And I've been waiting for the right weather to wear this outfit. I curled my hair before dinner, and it turned out super-well! I really like what my bangs are doing right now, and I'm thinking it might happen more often.

Possible enhancement to my look...I was happy. As Audrey Hepburn said, "I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls."

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Shattered

I can't even glance up,
afraid to look you in the eye
silent sobs suppressed into shudders
hearing the words you say
and not buying a thing
I don't even try to hide the disbelief,
shaking my head
because it's all I can trust myself to do
please, repeat repeat
repeat
repeat
until I finally believe.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Come on, show them what you're worth

I'm a firework.

The smallest things can set me off.
I explode in bright, burning
streaks of laughter
loud and unashamed
demanding your attention.
I burst in spirals, turning
around the dance floor
sure and liberated
feeling your eyes on me.
I'm like watching a show
on the fourth of July
drunk, amazed, awestruck
sensing beauty in the air
clouded by the smoke
that accompanies my fire,
feeling the crowd around me
intoxicated by the alcohol
and the emotion, blending
to make it the best night ever.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Alive

calloused and bruised
my feet, my soles
my soul
perpetually searching for a beat
dancing eternally without rest
seeking perfection
unattainable and demanding
screaming out in pain
for days after rehearsal
the only time I feel alive
stinging and burning
throbbing and loving it
my feet, my soles
my soul

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

I like to dance

I asked him questions
craving words, history, secrets, wishes.

For once he gave in
and let me listen
to the poetry of life
flowing easily from his wide mouth
that pulls into the sweetest of smiles.

Requiring nothing but a listener,
he spoke.
Life, friends, relatives, self
weaving together
forming a man
in progress.

Sometimes your first scars won't ever fade away

In three days it will be a year
since I walked out of your house
with no intent to return
rivers from my eyes
as your face crumpled in pain

But now I can't get you
out of my thoughts
and I need to bring you up
in conversations with people
who either hate you already
or never knew you at all

Tell me this:
why the fuck do I still care?
What's the point
in thinking of you anymore?
I give up.
Finally, I'm done dealing
with the memories I left with.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Diagram

Mreh. Not too fond of this one. It might have helped if my blood sugar wasn't low while I wrote it.

A dia­gram of my body
to map out every­thing
that’s wrong with it.
Start­ing with the pan­creas,
down to the intestines,
nei­ther of which do their
assign­ments prop­erly
Then back up to the heart,
which you’ve man­aged to
keep from beat­ing nor­mally,
instead forc­ing it to pound,
out of sync with the ratio­nal brain.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Closed

Soooo used. "Closed" is a terrible oneword. What else do you expect other than closed doors? Gahhh. Well, here it is anyway.

Closed doors wait­ing to be opened…reminds me of my heart. You could be the only one with the key. But if you never try to unlock those doors, how will you ever know if you are?

I tried to sleep, but I woke myself up. I'm too melancholy to cry, to sleep, to write anything worthwhile.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Affection

It grows every day
stronger, higher, deeper
than I ever expected.
I’m try­ing to open you up,
get a glance inside
the shell around you.
Because you have done
the same for me.