Archive of articles classified as' "poems"
Back homehidden among the foothills of our dreams,
slightly tilted and surrounded by coca leaves and cloudless skies,
a circular, wooden table welcomes the morning sunlight
as warm honey water and fresh lemons wait patiently in handleless mugs.
three off-white curtains hang beside
three square windows,
framing the paintings of a world we cannot replicate.
As we grow up, we learn that even the one person
that wasn’t supposed to ever let you down probably will.
You will have your heart broken probably more than once
and it’s harder every time.
You’ll break hearts too,
so remember how it felt when yours was broken.
You’ll fight with your best friend.
You’ll blame a new love for things an old one did.
You’ll cry because time is passing too fast
and you’ll eventually lose someone you love.
So take too many pictures, laugh too much,
and love like you have never been hurt
because every sixty seconds you spend upset
is a minute of happiness you’ll never get back.
Don’t be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.
i had a nightmare last night, so this morning i decided to write about something i wish i dreamed about…
sunrise
they disappear,
tip-toeing past bedtime,
out into the cozy darkness
protected by the full moon shadows,
and fading high school hoodies.
both carrying a blanket,
a pillow, and a future
they climb,
step-by-step,
towards their favorite hole to the sky,
next to the old brick chimney,
weathered black shingles,
and forgotten leaves from
past seasons.
they lay,
hand-in-hand,
whispering valuable nonsense
and counting the asterisks,
until they slowly fall asleep
only minutes before the sun
begins to rise in the east.
I just finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns. I wish I had read it earlier, because it is incredible. I don’t want to say anything about the actual story because you should go out and read it on your own. The book is based on a 17th Century poem by Saib-e-Tabrizi about Kabul, with these lines quoted in the book:
“One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs,
Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.”
the last poem i wrote in japan…
night ride
softening the distant rumble of
streaking red and white lights
behind muted headphones.
he escapes to a place all to himself.
free to cross over empty streets, and
pedal backwards, endlessly, to regretted decisions.
free to release blistered handlebars, and
relive the memories written on eye lids,
without consequences.
as he leans into smooth asphalt curves
and disappears into familiar
darkness. leaving it all
behind balding tires.
