The Igniting
and today
today as i spoke
with flames for breath
to this calm captured collection
of world changers
and rule breakers
and ownership takers,
this small group
of will-bes
and are-nows
and always-weres
it occurred
to me
that the fire of slam poetry
lit from my fuse
flickering from my tongue
might become
a fantastic hazard
so i choose to abuse
this power i have
this power to capture and pull
and lure them
to full fiery rapture
and dangerously i can play
with the words i say and the ways
that the sparks roll off my tongue
snapping in bursts of orange and pink
and i have bright searing hope
that all these tiny thoughts
burning out of my timid mouth
as they sink fizzling to the ground
still smoldering
will give off a blazing light
and leave a trail of smoke
will open and ignite
fledgling tender throats
because right now
at this moment
it's me
only me
but i hope
that if only they'd be
armed with that same power
to push their thoughts
from their heads to the crowds
for a minute, just a moment,
or a goddamn flaming
inferno of an hour
that these
will-bes
these are-nows
these always-weres
will set fire to the streets
and completely light up
this world
today as i spoke
with flames for breath
to this calm captured collection
of world changers
and rule breakers
and ownership takers,
this small group
of will-bes
and are-nows
and always-weres
it occurred
to me
that the fire of slam poetry
lit from my fuse
flickering from my tongue
might become
a fantastic hazard
so i choose to abuse
this power i have
this power to capture and pull
and lure them
to full fiery rapture
and dangerously i can play
with the words i say and the ways
that the sparks roll off my tongue
snapping in bursts of orange and pink
and i have bright searing hope
that all these tiny thoughts
burning out of my timid mouth
as they sink fizzling to the ground
still smoldering
will give off a blazing light
and leave a trail of smoke
will open and ignite
fledgling tender throats
because right now
at this moment
it's me
only me
but i hope
that if only they'd be
armed with that same power
to push their thoughts
from their heads to the crowds
for a minute, just a moment,
or a goddamn flaming
inferno of an hour
that these
will-bes
these are-nows
these always-weres
will set fire to the streets
and completely light up
this world
The L-Word (A Love Poem)
L is for librarian
lovely rough fingers
flipping through pages
and L is for loud
because inside, I am chaos
i'm a riot, i am burning
inside i yell it's you! it's you!
it's...
you
but you are so silent
so my mouth is quiet
and still because
L is for limits
because you shush me
you know just how
to push me
and L is for lament
because on Wednesdays
the library is closed
and i stand with my hands on the glass
peering in with
longing glances
at the desk
where you should be standing
scanning bar codes
and demagnetizing strips
which is ironic because
you are so
magnetic...
magnetic!!!
and L is for lust
librarian lust
like
Damn, you walk with smooth strides
down those slick aisles
sliding books delicately and sweetly
back into their places lust
like
Damn, you can name every book
in the Harry Potter Series
in order of publication lust
and L is for love
blue blue love
blue like the button up cardigan
you wear buttoned up all the way to the top
right to the top
because you want to leave me
blue like the colour of a stormy sea
a turbulent sea
as turbulent as those iron blue eyes
eyes that can shut
a person's whispering mouth
from fifty yards away
and blue like the shivers
sent up the spines
of every book
in the room
when
you
finally
finally
speak
lovely rough fingers
flipping through pages
and L is for loud
because inside, I am chaos
i'm a riot, i am burning
inside i yell it's you! it's you!
it's...
you
but you are so silent
so my mouth is quiet
and still because
L is for limits
because you shush me
you know just how
to push me
and L is for lament
because on Wednesdays
the library is closed
and i stand with my hands on the glass
peering in with
longing glances
at the desk
where you should be standing
scanning bar codes
and demagnetizing strips
which is ironic because
you are so
magnetic...
magnetic!!!
and L is for lust
librarian lust
like
Damn, you walk with smooth strides
down those slick aisles
sliding books delicately and sweetly
back into their places lust
like
Damn, you can name every book
in the Harry Potter Series
in order of publication lust
and L is for love
blue blue love
blue like the button up cardigan
you wear buttoned up all the way to the top
right to the top
because you want to leave me
blue like the colour of a stormy sea
a turbulent sea
as turbulent as those iron blue eyes
eyes that can shut
a person's whispering mouth
from fifty yards away
and blue like the shivers
sent up the spines
of every book
in the room
when
you
finally
finally
speak
A Beginning Poet's Guide to Mediocrity
Start by staring blankly at a glowing computer screen.
Tilt your head to one side slightly, and knit your eyebrows.
Have a stare-off with the cursor.
It blinks every second but it still wins.
Hang on to the notion
that if you stay still long enough,
inspiration will find you.
Like a rotting corpse in a ditch on the side of the 305 –
Eventually someone will pull over to pee
and wonder what that smell is.
Write about things you know nothing about,
but you know are important.
Write about Donald Trump. Or intersectional feminism. Or Syria.
(I think there's a lot happening in Syria.)
Write about child soldiers, or your abusive father.
Write about things you’ve never experienced,
But you might be an expert on anyway.
Pretend that you’re more intense than you are.
Carry around a leather notebook.
Every so often,
Lean in to it and write down astute observations
About how the sound of the rain sounds like bacon frying
Or about how when you shave,
the goop that comes off your razor
Looks a heck of a lot like honey dill sauce.
Then cross out the thing about the honey dill sauce.
You don’t wanna be known as “the poet who compares stuff to food.”
Wear layers. Wear scarves.
And always wear black.
But avoid slick fabrics like silk or organza.
Wool, felt and corduroy are always better choices.
Plus, they’re warmer when the landlord turns off your heat.
Tilt your head to one side slightly, and knit your eyebrows.
Have a stare-off with the cursor.
It blinks every second but it still wins.
Hang on to the notion
that if you stay still long enough,
inspiration will find you.
Like a rotting corpse in a ditch on the side of the 305 –
Eventually someone will pull over to pee
and wonder what that smell is.
Write about things you know nothing about,
but you know are important.
Write about Donald Trump. Or intersectional feminism. Or Syria.
(I think there's a lot happening in Syria.)
Write about child soldiers, or your abusive father.
Write about things you’ve never experienced,
But you might be an expert on anyway.
Pretend that you’re more intense than you are.
Carry around a leather notebook.
Every so often,
Lean in to it and write down astute observations
About how the sound of the rain sounds like bacon frying
Or about how when you shave,
the goop that comes off your razor
Looks a heck of a lot like honey dill sauce.
Then cross out the thing about the honey dill sauce.
You don’t wanna be known as “the poet who compares stuff to food.”
Wear layers. Wear scarves.
And always wear black.
But avoid slick fabrics like silk or organza.
Wool, felt and corduroy are always better choices.
Plus, they’re warmer when the landlord turns off your heat.
Rainy Day
i want to hoard you
for a rainy day.
i'll be a glutton -
i'm not ashamed.
I'll collect all your parts
just for myself
and keep you in a coffee tin
high up on my shelf.
or maybe, I'll snatch your smiles
and crumple them up
and swallow them
before they fade.
or squirrel away our conversations
and keep them in a carved wooden box
something that locks with a key
just for me so they'll be
ready whenever i need joy.
i could preserve your laugh
in a clean, corked glass jar
with an air-tight lid
to keep it fresh and new
and you
yes YOU
will always be here
tucked away
cool and safe
in my refrigerator.
i'll keep a ledger
a YOU inventory
so I always know
when my stock's getting low.
i'll find a way to capture
and hold onto you
in a greedy, selfish way.
I sure as hell wish
i could save you for a rainy day.
for a rainy day.
i'll be a glutton -
i'm not ashamed.
I'll collect all your parts
just for myself
and keep you in a coffee tin
high up on my shelf.
or maybe, I'll snatch your smiles
and crumple them up
and swallow them
before they fade.
or squirrel away our conversations
and keep them in a carved wooden box
something that locks with a key
just for me so they'll be
ready whenever i need joy.
i could preserve your laugh
in a clean, corked glass jar
with an air-tight lid
to keep it fresh and new
and you
yes YOU
will always be here
tucked away
cool and safe
in my refrigerator.
i'll keep a ledger
a YOU inventory
so I always know
when my stock's getting low.
i'll find a way to capture
and hold onto you
in a greedy, selfish way.
I sure as hell wish
i could save you for a rainy day.
