(agenda book poem)

it's still wrong
even if you hide behind your smiles in the daytime
when you cough and laugh politely,
excusing yourself
with your long hair and your lacquered lips
pulled up at the corners-
the darkness lingers behind you.
and I see it when a strand
slips out of place
and I see it when you reach down
because your pen falls,
in the flash of your eyes
when someone
does not
agree,
then
i see it.
it's still
wrong
even if you
hide behind
your smiles
in the daytime
and you cough and
laugh politely,
excusing yourself
because no one else will

(agenda book poem)

slip and slide away down a slope
so i'll never see you again
and you'll keep sliding sliding sliding
away
faster faster faster until you are a
speck
but it is okay because you have been
forgotten

my fingers are slipping
off the handle
and my eyes are looking up to where you
sit
high above
as i reach
straining
toes dangling
to lift myself

you are there
cross-legged and serene
and i am beneath

and you are there
whirling around and around
dazzled by the stars
and i am beneath

and you are there
reaching around you
in wonder with your skin
glowing paper thin
and i am beneath

annoyed

that aggravation
that creeps up inside of you
and
SEIZES
you with a need to shake and
shake and shake
angry angrily angrily
over and over and over
over and over and over
over and over and over

Saturday Morning

snow flakes falling down
coating everything in white,
music i made playing
from my computer,
too many depressed poems,
realizing i need to breathe
life into myself,
these are the things that make me happy.

i know its not fair
but i must ask of you
how did i get here?
why am i at the place where i
recede in conversations
as my words stumble out limping
and the awkwardness is palpable
and my syllables burn newspapers
to ashes at my feet
where I'm surrounded by bodies
breathing in and out
and yet we are so different
we all want different things
and my past punches me in the face
slaps me
as if it wasn't enough the first time
the sting left on my face was plenty a reminder
the sting left on my face was plenty of a reminder
and it echoes
in the darkness
as i type
my tears away

losing

its hard being the loser
when you always were the winner
to be the one who walks away
without the prize

AH
how can you not understand
that every time i'm nice
and you are ambivalent
a dagger hits me in the chest
yet i'll still try to respond
until i ridicule myself in
a pool of
patheticalness

it means nothing to you
and so much to me
and so much to you
and nothing to me

it's funny how quickly fantasies can become realities in your mind
and the kid sitting next to you becomes your husband or wife
and your enemy your friend
and your life becomes just a thousand times better
or
a thousand times worse

today as i was bunched up in my wintry coat
i looked into the window
peering out atop my scarf
and saw that i had become a
fox
red coat
and bushy tail
scampering elegantly
through the white
the coffee-warmed hands of
new yorkers were naught to me
as they stepped quickly
and the converse
and the high heels
and the hunters walked by
as i lay upon a subway grate with the warm air wafting up
before
diving for a morsel
and leaping up for a drop
to trod off daintily
on my toes
into the city

UGH
I'm so mad
i always push too far
beyond the boundaries
the risks i take
make me bang my head
against the wall
over
and
over
and
over

why can't i be satisfied with a happy ending
i always want more

don't you see
im so mad
i don't even think of you
and yet the past few days
thoughts of you
have brought me to tears
"i can't sleep" i say
"i don't know why" i lie to you
while inside i remember.
i know exactly
why
i couldn't sleep
(i'll give you one guess)
a card
lame
stupid
needy
i want to scream
what i don't know from the rooftops
sometimes.
maybe i am tired
but it is not that late
maybe i am crazy
or this just might be fate
laughing at my rhymes
makes me feel slightly better
about my weakness

irreverent

(still old one word)

irreverent
laughing by the pool
in our bikinis
yours fits you better
than mine
fits me
yours is snug tight
mine awkward i’m still all arms and legs
but it hardly matters
as we laugh at the lifeguard
calling seriously to all the other kids
to not jump
in the pool
they always
listen
except today we suppose
they’ve gone on a bit of a
bad
streak

can't you see
i'm just trying to be your friend
and when you lie
i try to see the truth
in the mix so that
i can be the one who believes
and when you're mean
i try to just
ify your
actions and be on
your side

but its hard
when you're so unwilling to reach
and when you just want to dwell in the pool
of your sorrows
eyes closed
ears shut

don't cry
i don't want you to cry
because your tears are not like mine
they are heavy
and they sink into
the floor
running through the pipes
and flowing out the
sink of the second-floor
bathroom
where the little girl is brushing
her teeth in a pink
nightgown
and her ratty blonde hair
slinks down her shoulders as
she bares her fangs
to glare at the
mirror

ferry

(one word)
the ferry is going across the
grey
and i can see the man in the red pin-striped suit
tipping the brim of his hat
up to the fog
leaning on his worn cane
with the tree limbs dancing over him
and the heavy moss fingers
reaching
reaching
reaching
to touch his shoulders
and brush that magenta ribbon
the waters part as the boat
glides on

small bad-ish old one word poems

(old one word posts from over a year ago that are pretty bad but kind of nice)

statement

Say what you mean, mean what you say.
Practice what you preach, preach what you practice. 
Tell what you know, know what you tell. 
State what you see, see what you state.

---------

Cabinet

I keep my thoughts in drawers. Each idea, every separate plan, showcased in its own wood prism. Though sometimes my cabinet grows messy, and with it my mind.

--------

losses

We all lose things. Isn’t it exasperating? That sinking feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you realise you can’t find something important where you left it. That self hatred at your stupidity. I’d rather find.

-------

living (sorry this one was apparently from one of my dark times)

how ironic, this is my biggest problem nowadays, the thing i’m most scared of.
the thing my grandmother has had to write me a three paged email about.
the thing i’m trying to understand,
but isn’t it that way for us all?
we all try so hard

------

Gum. 
sticky, 
stretching. 
The joy in the forbidden chewing in classes. 
The fold of 
your tongue as you slip it under 
hiding from authority. 
that rush from the rebellion, 
the disobeying. 

Savor it.

---------

patient

be patient.
you’ll grow.
your heart will come to know things that
it never knew before
you eyes will come to see the world
in a way you never have
your mind will expand its boundaries
to reach the endless shore

---------

withered

i have withered
i am an old leaf
an old song
long gone
long forgotten

a memory that has fallen
quietly to the ground and now lays
crunched under the feet of school children

-----------

 wilting

wilting slowly
the summer is over
and my need for sun
and mindless deeds
and tans and ice creams
is not quenched
but time is running out
i have not been watered
and im tilting
slilting
lilting
sliding
tipping
turning
bending
wilting

Pupil

(one word)

pupil
pew pell
am i your pupil?
or am i the teacher?
and you are the student
as i instruct you with my eyes
and you wrinkle your nose
and raise you eyebrows
squiggly
i don’t answer questions
until i’ve finished the lecture

are you the teacher or am i
when my words
are slow and measured
out on balances
and yours tumble
down
like
waterfalls

copy
do you copy
do you read
do you read me
like a book
nuzzled up in the corner
on a cold night
do you know me
can you touch me
and i will not flinch
are you that
close to me
(that boundary is bigger
than you know if you
think about it
really)
have you crossed it?

frustration

some days i cry
anything can set me off
and i don't know why

maybe its just the teenage existence

are we okay?
yes.
but are we really?
is it okay that
when we sleep it's
with
our eyes open
not closed
is it okay
that when we
whisper our words are slurred
and flowing
and when we look
we only see what we want to
is it okay that we are
shadows and our smiles
are fleeting
that we are never solid
always blurry
undefined
is it okay that we
are never ever on
time because we cannot
bring ourselves
to move

I am from

     the place where you say how-do-you-do with
pinky fingers up sitting on a beach chair and your
toes are in the sand, digging, digging
          always digging
          for
          the green and the leaves swirling around in
the early house of the morning when i went to pick the flowers to
press out their color into bottles
            bottles
            bottled up in this space between
            two fingers never touch
            no matter how hard you push them
together while people shout your name
    to come downstairs for the platanos
       the mangu my brother devours
      and i mix around on my plate
             circling
           the world
    on a spin-cycle dryer
     the colors are wrung
           together
  what will they become
              but,
       a grey tint of the
       airplane seats in
    front of me as the river rushes through my ear
and the girl across the room drinks from the plastic capped
                   bottle
       the sun rose behind the mountain
            every day that i was born
        and the origami paper cranes
        my little fingers folded flew by
         for want of not
        knowing how to cope
        how to see what
        was beyond my
     reach-ing for the
  highest book on the shelf
  teetering on my toes
     to peek outside the wind
  and jump onto the roof
  sliding down the syllables
      of my name
with the words
    echoing in my ears
   and the notes in front
      of me
     blending
    into a sound
    i know i'll never reach
 even though I
   grasp
my efforts aren't
  devalued
by my trying
      try
      try
    try to
 understand
  the smile
that flickers
 across her
 lips when she
catches my eye
the silent third grade conversations
we could have
by banging on the lunch table

gaunt drawn cheeks.
open to the world
and not the hallowed out
white light
of the computer screen

long black lines
shadow all the eyes
makes sure they do sleep
above the night

the things i hide from you
you shouldn't seek
cause they're lingering behind the kitchen door
waiting for you to leave
and check another room
waiting for you to give up
and stop searching
hoping you won't see the dirty footsteps on the floor
and understand
what's come to be

Distress

(old poem that never got published)

i am a damsel in distress

rescue me

come on

prince charming

i’m waiting

at the bodega around the corner

but where are you?

smoking a cigarette in the park

sweating in the night with your arm around another

girl

your tongue down her throat

fingers in her hair,

walking alongside me

but not seeing

even though you’re looking me in the eye

not seeing 

my pain-

as clearly as you should

not hearing

my plea 

as loudly as you could

(put down your lighter
and listen up) 
cause I am the damsel in distress
the girl that's

crying help me

help me, i’m a mess

i don't know what to change-
it's never like this-
because the words just rearrange in my mind
dancing off my fingers
twirled across the page
bending and dipping
and falling
into place

DISPUTE

my words and my being

i will not fight you,

you

with your

tainted lines

and eyes

that accuse me

of wrongs

slowly ticking
over over
back forth
my skin
is itching
crawling
with your breath
your words
i'm brushing them off
but they
stick to me
like magnets
north south pulling
opposite poles

fragments of thoughts

Math does not define life.

            less less less less less
            more more more more
            more.
            where are you
            to balance me out

---------------------------
it'll make more sense then
when we know so much more
but have lost what we were

(a poem going through my schedule)

When I saw you walking, I stopped, empty. Empty of words, of feelings, my matter was not conserved. I did not find the x's or the intercept where our lines crossed, I did not set you equal to zero, though I should've. I did not observe for pathetic fallacy to see if the world was mirroring my hurt, my anger. How could the weather mirror such confusion? It would be on the news for days. No, I just stood petrified like the horror shocked faces of the people in Pompeii. Realizing all they had thought mattered would be gone in seconds. Nada, ni segundos.

it's annoying
i wanted to
not complicate things
stop complicating things
you see
i'm flattered
but you
should
have told me

(poetry exercise from a workshop, had to follow a formula)

what am I fishing for
my line is only so long
my warning so loud
there are only so many words
i can understand

dingy and worn
subways have passed
the tall yellow letters
on dark orange nights
the barge tugged along through the grey-
blue the driver sitting there pushing, and
holding his breath

yellow turns to green
and the future is dripping
off the fingers
brown and bare
crumple it all up in a gum wrapper
the print maroon
the meaning empty

untitled (old poem that never got published)

today
i went to go find you
and when i did
i realized the reason for your
stolen words

and that reason was not me
it was her and she
and i jumped back a little in my mind
and gasped
oh.

(for the rest of the night
i tried to avoid you
courtesy told me to avoid you
intelligence begged me to ignore you
but try as i might
my boredom yearned
to
interrupt)

im staring into her blue eyes
the picture on the screen
trying to understand
i used to understand
she used to help me with
her steady stream of whispered words
the inabandon of little girls
the secret of the secrets
the thrill of the night
loosening tongues spilling with syllables

but now
i am watching
without words and her face
is seeming more and more like
a mask
a world i could've been a part of
if i hadn't drifted away

i'd drop my stuff
and run down the stairs
hair flying
pens falling
head over heels
tumbling tumbling
falling
and rolling
my way down
to you

today
was such a good day
it was such a good day

(and it didn't even start
that way)

but it began when i found my place
on your side
flanked by another

when we became three
not two disconnected
but three intertwined

and sitting there i could imagine
us sitting there so many
more times
so many more times
until we were known
as three
boy girl boy
boy boy girl
girl boy boy
until it ceased to matter

and our parents knew each others names
and we spoke in secret whispers
in the night
and you knew everything
before i told you
myself

untitled

I’m trying to open myself up

to the world

and bare my secrets

the syllables scratching under my skin

so that my reader

will know who I am

and see who I’ve been

clearly

so that I will not feel empty

but they’ll feel full

with their eyes drinking in

all the knowledge

filling them up with me

and being me,

though all they can ever be is them

days after

days after days

you make me

fall and 

once i am

closing my

eyes,

beginning to 

drift -

you catch me

tondue
and extend
your leg
sharp
cutting across the
floor like
the double
edged
words you
spoke to me
that night
when we did
not dance
but rage

racing over
our rocky
syllables
hurling across
the distance
the insults
as the
edge loomed
closer and closer and
farther and farther
away

i'm trying to
impale
my worry on a
stick
not think
about
all the things that
could go
wrong,
and
all the things that
will

trickling
d
 o
  w
    n
       the
walls
are teardrops
and
raindrops
and
k
 n
  o
   w
     l
      e
       d
         g
           e
if someone
would
just
c                    ds
 u               an
    p their h
to catch them

sometimes
shut yourself up
shut yourself out
when the train whooshes by
too fast
stop
step back from the yellow line
(if you see something say something)
realize that its not your train
(this is the last stop)
you don't need to be rushing
(please stand clear of the closing doors)
why don't you walk instead?
save yourself the
2.50

talk to me
i just want you to talk to me
all the time
is that too much to ask
(needy
extreme
wanting)
leave your other friends
(unhealthy
socially inept)
stay with me
just with me

The girl walks
The dog talks
The boy screams
The kid dreams

Made-up worlds
composed of swirls
sharply clear
away from here

no wake-up calls
just ways to fall
no exit route
one-way commute

September

I guess I better get used to this blank paper.

that’s what schools all about isn’t it

words on pages

words in your brain

learning scratched in ink

across your mind

teachers hoping the stains will last

tell me
your adventures

(i want adventures of my own
to tell)

pegs

knock yourself down a peg
and realize
its not about the likes
the people who like
the blue thumbs up
its about the you the now
the what makes you feel good
the who you are when you're not posing
who cares what one of your
600 friends think
knock yourself down a peg

and maybe post a picture
without a caked face
awkwardly taken by a
friend while you push and pull
into a model stance
trying not to look stupid
you can't look stupid when you're having fun
(or at least its much harder)

knock yourself down a peg and
be the kind of person
who doesn't need others constant affirmations of themself
to be

above the flow of others
not haughty
just aware

bathing in the pale glow
sleep will not come to me
ceaseless tickings of the mind
as the fan swishes by
keep me from slumbering off
into my dreams

sons (one word.com)

when i grow up
i will have sons
and daughters
and we will live
in a house
amid the reeds
and they will run and run and run
and jump over the ground
lost in their footing
tripping over the creeks
while i watch from the porch
shoveling food into a babys mouth
perhaps

and sometimes
when they run
i will follow
and amid my sons and daughters
as we tumble through the fields
i will become
young
again

whirl me around
in your lips
chew me up
and spit me out
with your harsh angry syllables
and i will tumble off your tongue
rolling and rolling
across the linoleum
until i reach the
door

Bloomed (one word)

i want to bloom like a flower
that has not bloomed
i have not bloomed

yet.

and i dont know if i will ever
what if i am not like all the flowers that have come before
what if i am not a
late bloomer
but a
never bloomer
a not-bloomer

i want to bloom
for i have not bloomed

explanations

i write my poems fast
like the brewing of a coffee machine
on the tinkling commercial from the
9 am TV.
quick
like the pulling off of a band-aid in the shower
the fear for the pain that will follow

i'd like to think my words
were that raw

drowsy

what is it
that is keeping me up
writing

when i could so
easily sneak off
to bed

i am
done
babysitting she has handed me
the money
and i have walked back
down the steps to my
apartment

i have even completed
the hardest arduous task
of getting ready
and could just turn off the lights
and slip and slide
and roll
into the river
of my mind

but
instead i sit here typing
almost as if im searching for
something but i dont know
what
only that i wont be able to sleep
to stop until im satisfied
that my pajama-getting
and toothbrushing have been useless
unless i discover
what it is i
seek

epiphany

sometimes i think my sparks of inspiration are insightful
but then later in a better frame of mind
i read over what i've written and laugh

round
and
r o
 u n d
the merry go
round
the merry go
round
the merry goes
around
and
s t o p s

i want to sit with you
in the treetops
and look at you
with the green leaves
touching your hair
and your smile so bright
it reflects off them
and the mosquitoes
biting my newly tanned legs
and the sun shining through
and it all looking so much
like a movie
that i cant even
believe
its real

(ramblings)

tidbits
of words
and syllables
that become something
more
from typing
one night
late
they become something
bigger
and better
and you edit
and re
edit
and re
vise
until they
become
something
more
and expand
from the page
and the written
reading mind
and are beyond
your
comprehension so you
can't quite think too
hard about
them
or you'll most
definitely
lose them
and those tidbits
will not be
more but
less

strung

strung
across my room
are christmas lights
and little paper girls
hand in hand in hand in hand
dancing across my ceiling
in a soft shaped arc

Fools

(one word)

we are all fools
at least we know it together
sitting on the floor
braiding each others hair
with our insufficiencies
and laughing
at all the things we dont know
and all the things we never
will

we are all fools
sitting cross legged
as our toes reach down to the floor
down to the
water
dip in the cool
cool
water

i see my name in your inbox
and my heart skips a beat
when i remember i'm a part of your life
im not on the outside looking in
(this is real
i'm your friend)

we watch movies
all of us in a dark basement
and i enjoy it until
i see that the girl next to you
has casually placed
her leg on yours
i push it off with my eyes
(she doesn't even know you)
you just sit still but i still can't
help it my mind scrunches
up with unjustified jealousy

(when i smile
i try to catch your eye
when i laugh
i want you to catch mine)

you catch me
but not enough or not
what i think to be nearly enough
or maybe not
nearly what i want to be enough

i want to remember
all this forever
but i'm too lazy to write
it down

(i want you to be mine
but i'm too scared
to make a sound)

catapult

(one word)
catapult yourself into my arms
and fly straight through me
take me with
you as you stream across the sky
launched into a high strong arc
higher than my arms
can reach when i stand on my
tippytoes
and reach for the stars

Lullaby

(one word)

sing me a lullaby
i need a lullaby
to calm my screams
to make me stop
I. want. everyone. to. STOP.

and everything
stop talking to me
let the words fill my ears
let the music be what i hear
i dont care
i dont want to be here
banish all these thoughts
its been rough
its been tough
its been a tumble in the mud day
i know for me too
so sing it away
don’t complain to me
i don’t care anymore
i don't want anymore
sleep

White Pages

Don’t look down

Look up

In looking down your eyes will sink into the floor

And your mouth will become the dusty grey

with the words I see unsaid on your tongue

I laugh to think you believe you’ve hid behind the shadows of everyone else

You are no more a part of the shadows than the sun

You are no more unnoticeable for your sacrifice

Just more stupid

More conformed with the sound scheme of society

Play and pause to the tune of the busy streets

Can’t be the note that’s off-key

Can’t be the one that people see

I am the fire quenched by your cowardice

The courage-less cutouts are no match for me

You think that it is that I’ll ever stop shouting?

Think this is the way that you’ll get to be free?

When you lie alone with quietness

Cowering behind a blank face mask

Flip through pale pages, you are just one of them

Synonymous in uniformity

Equal in vacant voice, you disgust me.

How can you live so low, when you can scream so loud?

How can you not be heard, when you can easily shout?

I am the syllables that you have chained up in your fear

The unnecessary weakness.

The bridge won’t hold, it’ll break

tumbling down into your silence

without the echo of your needs

So scream at me

Look up at me and tell me what you are

Banish the shy, the scared

The scared have no place here

You have no place here anymore

And that is why I am here

You have no place here anymore

Unless you tell me that you do

Unless you fight for what is you

Unless you know it, what is true

You are not who you are

If you cannot prove it

You don’t deserve to be who you are

If you cannot speak

So speak to me.

Shut out the fear that no one knows

Before it consumes you

Before you become the one that never grows

Before it erases you and you’re a white page

No one needs a white page

There are so many others

That are like you

So take it out

In the name of them that can’t be you

Take it out

The evil hesitation

The silent condemnation

Push it

Punch it

No one needs a white page

There are too many of them

No one needs a white page