Friday, July 10, 2015

Cookie Jar

I don't fit
I never have
I remember looking
at my parents 
through thrice youthful eyes
and thinking
who are these strange people
that I love so dearly
but don't quite belong with
I can't seem to help
looking at almost everyone that way 
Gypsy Wind
is my birth given handle
So far that is what my life has been
whether the slightest breeze 
or hurricane gale
It seems I have always 
been pushed
by this invisible force
an innate determination 
purpose pulling on me
an external search 
for something missing
a key to a lock
or the other half of my locket 

There are moments 
when I longingly stare 
at cookie cutters
Yearning to lay down in one
be surrounded by the safe 
complete walls
of tinseled exactness
I tried to build a gingerbread house
with all the appropriate decorations
but the obsession 
with perfection
made the house crack and crumble
and to be honest
I don't really care for frosting 
I just wanted a cookie

But I have learned
to be specific
I need to know what kind of cookies
I like the best
oatmeal raisin 
or chocolate chip
or peanut butter
Placed on a baking sheet 
they spread organically
each one unique
formed by the heat they rise from
Snacks 
that can be wrapped
in plastic
by mamas hands
tucked in the pocket of my soul
so I won't be hungry
When I am out on my journey
and the wind starts to blow
leaning me this way 
and that
my feet will be rooted
because I am full
stuffed like thanksgiving 
anchored 
by a bottomless cookie jar
that I can reach into
whenever I need to
whenever I feel lost
Every place I don't belong
Every cookie cutter that doesn't fit
Every pair of eyes that can't see me
Every pair of ears that can't hear me
Every heart that can't let me in
I will reach within
Anyway
find my favorite cookie
at that moment
break it down the middle
Half for you
and half for me
Because even if
there is not a place 
in this world 
that I belong
I will always know
and 
I will always show you
what home tastes like
on the inside
of me

Monday, June 29, 2015

Another...love poem

I write love poems
I think all of them are 
Just love letters to each other 
I'm going to keep writing them 
I'm going to fill the air with them
I'm going to fill my life with them
Love letters to each other
We get to love a few other souls
In this time that we are here
Before we move to the unknown
We get to learn how to love ourselves
Learn how to love each other
Stand up straight and tall 
And see what 
magnificently 
beautiful 
creatures
We 
Truly
Truly
Truly are
And that is something 
That should not be left 
To sit in silence
All we want to do is talk to each other
Hear each other
In as many different languages 
as we can learn
So I will not be sheepish
About how many love poems 
I write
I will write them everyday 
Different ones
The same ones
Again 
and again
So that those whom I love
Can be sure
To hear me
I will endure the eyerolling
And sarcastic smiles
The self conscious discomfort 
Because I will not end my time here
Without being sure
That those whom I love
Can hear me
And I will repeat myself
Without tire 
Without regret
Lest they forget
I will always remind them
By writing poems
Love poems
Love letters to each other
That will eventually  
Without a doubt
effortlessly
Pass through my lips
And my eyes
And my fingertips
Because all we have to do 
To love each other
is talk 
To each other
Really well
Completely
No detail spared
Thoroughly 
As long as it takes
Softly
As gently as you can imagine
For we are only here for a little while
We get to love a few other souls
In this time that we are here
For just a little while
So here is another poem
Another love poem 
Just another love letter
That I wrote
For you

Sunday, June 28, 2015

etching ink on acetate


Brand New

She always feels brand new
A puzzle I want to solve 
everyday 
again 
and again
I want to get it right
crack the code
find the combination
But then 
every night
I want her to change it
because 
every day
I want to do it all over 
again

I show her my insecurities 
my eccentricities 
the holes in my heart
One by one
layer after layer
deeper than I have ever been 
brave enough to go
And somehow 
she still sees the good
and I know that I am good
But through the details
of conversations
interpretations
mutual navigation 
the smallest interactions
she helps me see
exactly how
I can be
great 

And still I want
I will always want her
It is the 
second 
most powerful force
that I have ever felt 
in my short life 
thus far 
It pushes up inside me
out through every limb
Every fingertip
Every goosebump
Every breath
A feeling that I love
almost more than anything
It is the creative force
It is what drives me
However 
it is an experience 
that is not to be driven
Experience
is not driven 
it is ridden 
You must let the present 
take the wheel
Sit in the passenger seat
beside it
Stand in it
Lay entwined with it
For driving is dangerous
It is a task 
a job 
an accomplishment
If I am too focused 
on the road ahead
like a good driver should be
then I speed past 
what brought me to this space 
in the first place
The way time slowed down
almost stood still
when I looked into her eyes
The way I could feel the air 
all around me 
when I sat next to her
The way my ears warmed 
from the sweet vibrations 
of her voice
The way my mind 
was finally soft 
with my heart 
The involuntary reaction 
to be tender with her 
was so strong 
that it overtook 
me
Uncontrollably 
That strongest gentle
it is the 
first 
most powerful force
I have ever felt
and it always remains
underneath all the rest
It makes me slow down
exactly as I need to
Fast is the part of me 
that I don't want to be
anymore
I want to bask in my slow motion
A movement I am reminded of
every time I swim
in her deep ocean
With every crashing wave
that washes over me
so completely 
she makes me feel
like I am 
brand new