accentric (written for you, on my nicest paper)

we sleuth and sneak and hope we find
the meaning in a crooked time,
make locked the doors in the back of our minds
ashamed of what we hope is true.

we laugh, admiring those with wit
and oft forsake sincerest things -
it's of the past, we all admit, but
do we not long for sincerest touch?

dollars bind our hearts in chains
pulled taught until we lose our pulse
and stumble round the sterile rooms
of squares, and cubes, the halls, this maze.

our fathers beat from their fathers hate
our hands are trained to strike the same
so we drink now, accept our fate
our boney fingers on frosted glass.

and every hope we ever had
it's hidden in our deepest heart!
our laughs, a bellowing hollow sound
our smiles, a secret sorrow now.

wake up, oh sleeper, there's meaning to find.
fear not, oh dreamer, your dreams aren't vain.
unlock the doors in the back of your minds!
search and feel and laugh and know
there's more, just like we truly hoped.

dear samantha
do you remember the things
that make you smile?
do you remember
that it is june? and life is
so worth while?

forget about the complications.
when the dark eeks in,
shout it out so loud.
remember the feeling
of grass on your knees,
and when you used to dream
of being the person
you are right now?

do not be afraid
do not be ashamed
laugh in the face
of pride,
life is too rich and bountiful
and quick for all of that,
the devils play-things.

remember lisa frank?
and color-filled compacts
of rouge and lip stick?
remember windows down,
and the hair in your face
and laughter on your mouth
and the air was drenched
in life and possibility.


make a cake. icing on your cheek.
send a letter saying thank you in cursive ink.
do something selfless, and
do something for yourself.
be kind,
be always kind.
respect and humility will take you
anywhere you could ever want to go.

and if there's one thing
about you,
it's that you want to go places.

and when even these things have
lost their grandeur
and you cannot taste their sweetness
on your tongue
remember that they are things
their time will come and go
but the word of your King
stands forever
and His friendship you know,
His friendship you know.

how we move from a to b, it can't be up to me

how stupid was i?
i was young and i
had met him for the first time.

now i do not know him.
i can't help it,
i remember him fondly
even though it hurts.

how stupid was i
to not have captured
any of those moments
when he was mine
and he thought of me fondly, too?

i can scarcely remember
exactly what happened
but something happened
and he does not speak to me.
and i can't remember him well.

his face is a blurry image in my head
surrounded by strokes of green and blue,
blurry with infatuation and years time,
with excitement and disappointment.
they say time heals everything
but i still know this wound well.

how stupid was i
to tell him after so long?
so unabashedly, so strong.
how stupid am i
to continue on like this?
will it ever stop?

one time i was sitting and thinking
he was talking and talking
and i was not listening
and my eyes fixed in one place
as my head ran away.

i was in a different world
i was a child in my bedroom
i was a mother with keepsakes in hand
i was so far away i didn't know where i was.
i liked that place best.

my pulse was deep and steady,
my breathing like that of a weekend sleep,
i was sitting in a chilly stone classroom,
but i was not there.
i was a queen, noble, and warm,
ruling with a mighty hand
merciful and just
frightful and beautiful.

and then i was a lady smiling at children
with dark skin and oversized bellies
hugging them so tight
dirt on my white knees,
with a love so beyond myself.
one time, when i was sitting and thinking,
i was there.