poems – Page 2

Happy new one and a rise

Of glass and hope to the run

Of twelve wilder, dream-full moons

That bring word: our time has come

It gets lonely, being human. Not because you can’t find a soul to lie beside you at night; because you never know if their soul is searching at all, and if you want to be found.

moami

People act as if poetry is soft and gentle when we all know those few lines that kill you immediately upon hearing them.

Boys kissing girls

Girls kissing boys

Please

Don’t forget

Kissing girls

Kissing boys

moami

Home is where –

No.

Home is who

(Fill your own blank

With yourself

Someone

The one)

We are born in September. We are children of autumn, daughters of the wildest storms, sons of the ancient equinox. Change does not come for us. We bring it upon the world.

you can probably never create something that touches all the hearts

but whatever you make, it will always touch someone

There are few things in this world that you can love an endless amount of.

Some of those precious few are books, songs, languages, sunrises and dawnbreaks.

You could wake me up at 3 a.m. after two hours of sleep and no memory of where or who I am and I’d still be ready to talk about squids, the possibility of Atlantis, what ancient music sounded like and why a cup of tea feels like home between my hands.

the oxygen in the air that you breathe is eating you alive but you’re still here so breathe a bit more of it and exhale and go conquer the world or something just as terribly wonderful that a species dying from its own metabolism can achieve.