Poetic License RSS

This started as an experiment to write ten poems a day. That clearly didn't last, but I'll still put up some words from time to time.

Some I will mean, and some I won't. None of these are finished. This is me, trying.

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11-04

1
I am afraid to love too much
I am afraid I will never love enough
When will I learn
to guard my heart does not mean
sealing it off?
To give my heart does not mean
recklessly surrendering it?
The thinnest line is the one
that can never be crossed

2
Bread
Wine
A simple time

3
The city is ready for a holiday.
Already, lights play
dancing above each intersection
inviting dreams of snow-covered streets
and nights of warm distractions
For now, the rush of fall air
and the candle-glow windows
along Seventh Avenue are enough
as we await the coming celebration
Dusky early evening walks refresh the senses
during the in-between season

4
Not good enough
Not smart enough
Not pretty enough
Not strong enough
Not creative enough
Not funny enough
Not cool enough
Whatever you say she is not
is what she will grow up not to be
These words are more than words
They are weapons of mass destruction

5
Everyone here wants to be
and everyone here wants to be
somewhere else
It’s a natural reaction to want
and a natural reaction to want more

6
Let’s speak of the other
as if it were possible to ignore it
Let’s stay on this train a little longer
we shall be the better for it
Just come now, don’t be so stubborn
chasing down rainbows
was never your delusion
I can’t stand what we’ve become
in this furtive silent confusion
and I’ll take all your secrets with me
into the sweet silence of the grave
but pretend now I will not do
and it’s your courage that will save
So if what you’re really saying here
is that you’re ready to let go
Let’s stay on this train a little longer
cause we’re not where we’re meant to be
Just let me be the one who loves you
let me set you free

7
You tasted what I had to offer
claimed it was the best you’d had
I’d believe it if you weren’t running the other way
while you said it

8
Waiting for the G train
in an empty silent space
Your face reminds me
of someone I wanted to know
Even the wind does not reach down here
there is no atmosphere to hide
what the harsh light illuminates

 

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