NPM Day 7 {All I Have Left}

All I Have Left
November 10, 2016

I give up.
I give up.
It’s a lie, but I’m saying it.
I give up.

I don’t want an explanation.
You don’t have to give me answers.
Those are lies, but I’m saying them.
I give up.

You don’t have to tell me why,
or say how long I have to wait.
I’m lying, but who cares?
I give up.

All I really want is comfort.
Touch me and I’ll be fine.
That’s the truth, it’s all I have left,
but in regards to everything else

I give up.

NPM Day 6 {Vicious Grace}

Vicious Grace
December 7, 2016

Belief has given power
where none was found
or could be made,
and we hold it at arm’s length,
pausing to receive
a gentler truth
we might pass on.
But there is still
grief in this voice
and there is still
anger waiting in the dark
and still
a vicious grace.
It comes out in all our words,
it blinds the weak
and rattles nerves,
and still for all our trembling
and that which we give away,
written in dusty margins
or tucked in a lover’s coat pocket,

we still believe.

NPM Day 5 {Practical}

Practical
October 2, 2016

I felt it today.
Between zipping up my jacket
and the realization
I wore the wrong shoes for rain.
You were always so
practical
but your amusement did not follow
my foolishness today.
I could feel your spirit
leaving me,
turning through the air,
fading like wisps
from cradled teacups.
Your absence is
a settled weight
pulling down the shutters
then collapsing at the window
and I can hardly bare it,
knowing you are gone.
I felt it with such strength
when we said goodbye
I swallowed the pain
and now it sits like a rock,
holding me here in the dark.
I have held you closer
than expected,
but like every breath
of fresh air
I must let you go

or we will both cease to be.

NPM Day 4 {Still}

Still
August 15, 2016

if you are near
as near as breath
as near as touch
wash over me

and be nearer still
be closer still

as close as a kiss
as close as a heartbeat
as close as blood
wash over the inside

for I am a vessel
be inside my heart
be inside my soul

be nearer
be closer still
wash over me
wash over and fill

as close as a memory
as close as you were
inside my thoughts

as close as this moment
as close as sunlight
as close as love

NPM Day 3 {Crystalline}

Crystalline
September 30, 2016

You used to say
you were too prismatic
and I’d hate all of your other sides.
I never believed you,
I didn’t believe it,
even when I saw
that crystalline dagger
coming for me.
And no one believed me
when I said you were beautiful,
when I believed in your beauty,
when I put all my hope
in the colors
I swore I saw
from my point of view.
But that damned perspective
saved my life so many nights,
even when I cursed at you,
even when I regretted you,
even when I simply
glimpsed
your dark side
for what I thought
must have only been the first time.
And all these years later
I still call you a hero
though we haven’t spoken
and we haven’t reconciled
and we’ve thrown all our love
out of the light.

NPM Day 2 {Beckoned}

Beckoned
April 2, 2017

The Oregon sun was petulantly dry,
the earth beside the road quiet and choked
with enchanting travelers' dust, clustered
with tiny mountains sharp, yellow rocks
between blinding white daisies or
a thrush of persistent dandelions.

A short climb through grass on the left
led to dragonflies, green and blue,
darting over the river stones and gerridae
and the sun was not cruel but tender
as water rolled and gushed around boulders,
thundering to be freed over the falls.
To the right the ground sloped, ending
abruptly, giving way to the truth below
where waters dangerous and blue beckoned,
and it was there I flung my tiny body
over the cliff, into the deep, feeling my feet
just touch the murdering rock below the surface.

If I close my eyes I can still feel the sun
purifying the gold in my long hair,
and the air around me cooling in descent
just before the water meets me gladly,
devouring me up from my toes as
I plunge myself into the unknown, and
wondering almost infinitely--
if I break the surface, will it break me?

National Poetry Month 2017 - Day 1 {From the Back Door Looking Forward}

I may have lost my motivation to blog regularly. But I'll never grow out of poetry, and I'll never not participate in National Poetry Month because, well, I have no good reason to abstain. It's funny, though. A whole year later and not much has changed, not on the inside, and yet on the outside my life looks entirely different. A completely new cluster of friendships have emerged and therefore a whole new group of people will be privy to experiencing this side of me.

This will go the same way it always does. I'll give you titles and original dates. If there's a relevant backstory I'll include it. Here is Day 1.

From the Back Door Looking Forward

June 23, 2016

Absorb my fears
into your trembling hand.
Prophesy my tears
into the burning sand.
My voice
will soak barren lands,
will move mountains
strong and grand.
But did you know then
what I hope to know now,
before peasants rose up
and emperors bowed?
I am the dessert
to be soothed.
I am the mountain
to be moved.