The first this I notice about a person is their smile or their eyes. Immediately when I met the guy I’m with, I noticed his eyes (mostly because he wasn’t smiling). Green eyes are my weakness, as evidenced by trying to make my eyes greener than hazel, and he has these stunning grey-green eyes. The more I look at them, the more I think of the ocean. Maybe it’s because I miss the Atlantic more than I realize, or because he himself represents the turbulent water I love so much. Whatever the reason is, I decided a poem was needed, so here one is.
The ocean is in your eyes
The rolling waves play across them
A distinct grey- green color
Reminding me of home.
The depth of them endless
Filled with secrets and unknown things
Maybe you’ll tell me about them someday.
They change like the tides
The moon playing off them in mysterious ways
Some days bright and others stormy.
Those ocean eyes fill my dreams.
All I want is for them to always be one me
To be able to dive in them whenever I feel.
Your ocean eyes fill me with joy some days.
But just like the true tides,
They haunt me at the same time.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted, and decided to call up that poem I wrote before I got back with the boy. I’ve been writing a lot of prose recently, which means I haven’t been writing a lot of poems. I think I need to find a balance between the two. Anyway, I wrote this one the other night when I was over his house to study and got thinking about what we used to have. Funny how this ended up becoming true.
Standing here looking at you
Pretending everything is fine
You have no idea, do you?
I want to wrap my arms around you
Kiss you lightly on the neck
To feel the heat through your shirt
God, I wish we could go back
But I don’t know if we can
I can’t read you from over here
Give me a sign, a signal
The green light to proceed
Anything will work right now
I hate myself for feeling this
But it’s to no use
I fell for you, and I fell hard
It’s official! I have hit 100 posts, with only about five being posts outside of poetry. I never planned for this to happen in less than a year, nor did I expect this blog to take off in the way it has. I have found writing and posting my work to be cathartic and therapeutic, so I’m glad I stuck with it. Here’s to another 100 posts!
I had a different poem to post after Tuesday night, but it quickly became outdated. The guy I’ve been writing about most recently, the one who left me the day after Valentine’s Day, and I are back together as of Tuesday night. The poem I’m sharing is not the deepest, but I liked it since it’s a slightly happier, more optimistic, more current poem than the other one, which I’ll probably share at a later date when I have writer’s block.
You kiss my shoulder lightly
Tell me I was right
You need me in your life
And you were just scared
You wrap your arms around my waist
Hug me close to your body
Whisper you’ll be more open
So long as I come back
You say these things
And I believe you
So I roll over to kiss you
This is how it should always be
It’s official. I do my best work when I’m in pain emotionally. I wrote a creative nonfiction piece the other night, then a follow up last night. I’m hoping to get them published somewhere, so fingers crossed. Writing those pieces triggered this poem, which sort of leapt to the page without me intending it to. It’s been almost a week without him, and it still hurts more than I imagined, as evident by this piece. Each day gets a little better, but the pain still hasn’t subsided. I’ll make it through, though, mostly due to writing.
The look in your eyes still haunts me
I can still see you sitting casual
The back of your Subaru open
A set of bike handlebars in your hands
The scab on your arm that you had the first night
Is finally starting to heal
After you’ve reopened it countless times
Most nights with me around to see
The words you kept repeating over and over
Like a clock tower, a gong overhead
Reverberates through my bones
I can’t outrun them, even now
The moment I turned and walked away
With the familiar hum of the engine behind me
I didn’t look back
But now I almost wish I had
Yesterday, I had the unfortunate experience of someone re-blogging my work in an inappropriate manner (using my writing for personal gain including receiving naked pictures from people). I am currently in the process of having my post removed from their blog, but it’s a slow and aggravating process.
Because of this unfortunate series, I have felt the need to add a new page to my blog outlining my rules and expectations for comments and re-blogging my work. I have never had an issue with anyone before, but this issue has seriously affected me. I am shocked and disgusted someone would do this to any writer. My intention is not to keep people from commenting or even re-blogging my work, but to do so in a manner that will put both me and the re-blogger in a positive light. I encourage you to leave me comments because that is how writer’s improve. I’m am deeply saddened this page had to be created and that I had to express this message.
Thank you for understanding and continuing to support my work. I look forward to what you folks have to say about my pieces in the near future.
A better man. That’s what I’m searching for. I’m done with feeling used and thrown away whenever the wind changes. I’m not saying the guys I have been with are horrible people or won’t change, but right now, they’re not what I need in my life. I’ve had this idea floating in my head for a while now, but it finally got put on paper last night. It took a slightly different turn than I expected it would, but I’m pleased with the results. We’ll see when this becomes real life for me.
A BETTER MAN
I’m in search of a better man
One who opens doors and dresses up
Who tells me I’m beautiful
Not that I have a great body
A better man who isn’t afraid
To admit how much he cares
Or how much he may love me
And whose actions match his words
The better man is out there
He’s looking for a better woman
We could be perfect
All we need to do is meet
While I have a potential poem floating around in my head, I figured it was time I shared some news I received the other day. Many of you have seen or heard me discuss how I would never consider myself a poet. I find writing in a poetic style extremely challenging when I have a set number of syllables and stresses needed, or any other structure found in poetry. I have never found that kind of poetry enjoyable, and if I do it successfully, I find the piece is mundane and has no meaning.
However, I decided to go out on a limb and submitted a poem to Images Literary Magazine, the literary magazine that’s published once a year at my school, Fort Lewis College. I figured the photograph I submitted would be chosen, but instead, the email back says my poem was selected. I think I may need to now begin saying I am a poet, which still sounds strange to me. There’ll be an adjustment period, certainly.
I am linking the original post to this one simply because this is already a mile long novel. I wrote it about this time last year about the boy I had fallen in love with in Colorado. Fast forward to today and we are no longer together, which almost makes the poem seem like it happened to someone else. Funny how things evolve, isn’t it?