reading poems
09/12/2010 07:46 p.m.
the best thing about reading poems
is how they make you want to write.
today, despite the demands of the unavoidable to-do listi am curled in the center of the couch
reading poems.
missing you.
and reading poems.

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unassuming
07/09/2010 11:06 p.m.
he's too unassuming
to read my poems.
unless a blatant declaration
defines its character,
my poems slip out
the back door
and returns by morning.

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pleasure or purpose
07/09/2010 10:59 p.m.
pleasure or purpose
------
twenty-somethings
obsessed with
sensations, volume, indulgence
seduction
of the senses
apathy
of the mind

those trapped in
midlife crises
search through books, newspapers,
magazines, television
for a way to find
purpose. why
are they still
here, anyway?

these struggles
are chosen
[not for us,
but by us]

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things we don't like
05/07/2010 09:11 p.m.
we can never remember
that we don't like something
until it reminds us again

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who wouldn't
05/07/2010 03:53 a.m.
i'm picky
bitchy
too much to say
no time to listen
high standards
eye-rolling
not impressed
nestled on my pedestal

sometimes i wonder who would love me
but mostly i wonder who wouldn't

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smack you
04/30/2010 04:26 a.m.
i want to smack you
like the fucking
child
you are.

when will you learn
that other people
will never change
how you see yourself?

you look for validation
from the most
meaningless of sources

and i will always resent
how worthless
my love is to you

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thoughtful distance
04/13/2010 11:57 p.m.
that thoughtful distance
you fought so hard to maintain
always kept me
coming back

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poem king
04/11/2010 01:09 a.m.
poem king:
he knows where all
the secret locks
are, he is jingling
an infinite set of keys
in his modest hands

he dissects
every winding thought
each artistic declaration
all the introspective monologues
he is compiling
an encyclopedia
of our heart's most
convoluted conceptions

i cry
through my fingers
on a listening page of white;
he hears--he can feel the page
still wet with tears

i hide my struggle
behind words, in between punctuation,
beneath sentence fragments

but poem king
reads them
and he knows

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when i leave
04/09/2010 10:47 p.m.
i hope
when i leave
you
remember every time
you turned your
cheek to my mouth
took my
hips in your hands
and pushed
me away

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helpless
03/15/2010 11:22 p.m.
even when i'm
helpless
i don't seem it

i could beg for help
weak and vulnerable
but no one would believe it
and no one would rescue me

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