A Northwestern Family

One day, you will be all mine.

We will live beneath the trees and above the moss.

Our legs will feel light as we trudge over rocks & waterfalls.

The rain will be your love & the mountains your muse.

We will walk along the strings of higher education

& run with the forested roads.

The city will light up in Big Pink, & purple lights.

The town's people will forever love Voodoo & a Rocky sort of Horror.

I could not imagine your tiny hands growing,

any place other than where mine grew.

I know you will love the light air & chilled mornings.

The snowy holidays & brisk summers.

We will live in a brick built home

surrounded by evergreen trees.

Cool outside, but we sit cozy.

Warmed by the vibrant fire.

I will love him,

he will love me,

& we will love you my darlings

in a Northwestern home.

The Girl Who Reads Slam Poetry

I never chose to be what I am,

some woman of poetry;

a victim of slam?
& never meant I,

to take this road,

.

.

.

down.

But fate led me.

My parents wrote the diary:

Yes, they who,

laid hands...

Just to escape the world's way,

their day to day.

&

It kinda grows on you,

the way the world disapproves

of, a slammed down, me,

except in poetry...

& I never asked for this,

unenlightened sense,

of

only me.

The Girl Who Reads Slam Poetry.

A Couple

This rhombus of your love

envelops me,

laps my tears;

folding them

into worry no more.

I am reborn

to you -

One day,

I hope

you will be
unto me
too.

Somewhere On A Star

I looked up today.

Wrote you in my mouth.

But I fell in a frenzy

when I couldn't see your eyes.

How dark it is here

without you...

anxious

Ever to fit
in a box
made of crumbs,
soaked in the mercy
of dishes last night.

The Liar

Every corner holds a shadow of you.

I am awakening to the day

where the wall be stained bare...

I'll find the truth 

beneath the Liar's stare.

This tale was not spun,

nor were these eyes given

ever in your wisdom.

Bold faced

bare chest.

Will you find another?

No, never will you.

Walls breathe, tundra

frozen over solid;

Beneath its crust,

a thousand cores,

and at the very pit

a Liar there. 

Country Song

This girl,

she keeps me guessing -

I call her my Darling.

Oh, my darling,

darling, Darling what'd you do?

My Darling sent me roaming,

after lattes in Wyoming.

Now I'm roaming around to Jackson,

maybe Casper, sometimes Cheyenne;

All because I went and gave my love to...

Just like a meadowlark,

you struck me yellow -

I saw sparks;

Guess they never caught fire onto you.

I'd like to try pretending

that this ending wasn't foreseen

but my Darling still went & left me blue.

Now I'm claiming territory,

& I'm waking in the morning

over lattes, in Wyoming

like we used to.

In Empathy

In Empathy - other realities be seen.
Yet no soul
that I have found
hath ever ate this notion.

It set the tone for today -

Our world
be too much for one soul bare.

Though,
what if
all souls
bathed in empathy?

Then, what could we be?


Weightless.
Nirvana.

we are clouds at sea

.

Jupiter's Eyes

Why must my busy mind meld my life so?
Be it such a curse,
to grow an opinion
on the wildest daydream
I had ever imagined?
Be it insane
to then, write a book
on the physically studied world
which I had began?

Maybe
when my spirit rebirths
through the eye of my inner being,
I will be a moth;
Free
as the energy
that I am.

Normal - Almost that

Such a conglomeration of nonsense
my day-to-day seems
to always consist of.

If only I could turn off the noise:
The vehicles rushing,
buildings growing
empty,
and the hushed tone
of my happiness
sobbing in the corner.

If only
the way this life changed
was normal.
Maybe I would be too...
maybe.