I wrote this poem with a sharpie pen
Fine point
Black ink
It is not my normal choice of pen
I'm picky like you
I used it because you said it was your favorite to write with
I wanted to write you
Wanted to see you in these letters scratched across
my notebook the way I did in your marginal notes
in books you gave me. Books you knew I'd enjoy
We always enjoyed books
No one else could discuss literature with me
for hours, but somehow we managed to
return to it consistently
We loved it
I'm pretty sure it loved us
Did we?
You've cut me off again
I am no longer allowed to contact you directly
so I wrote this poem instead
channeling you through this sharpie pen
I'll respect your wishes this time
Respect that
Respect you
Forget us
If that is what you want
It's said
Elephants can die of a broken heart
Let's not be elephants
Let's be something else
something smaller
something with less blood
less heart
let's be something solitary
that only comes together briefly
once in a lifetime
never repeating but
leaving a permanent impact
I couldn't think of what to be
so I looked it up
I'd say let's be lemmings
only I won't follow you over a cliff
or
let's be honey badgers
cause frankly
honey badger don't give a shit
Better yet, let's be armadillos
hidden behind our armor
we'll look like little grey
soccer balls
Don't kick us
we're breathing
And that's just it
we're breathing
You once were my "What if..."
Now you're my "I had you once"
And it was what I'd hoped
albeit too short and
we're still breathing
You're here (still)
And I'm sure you will be
for some time
In my mind
In my heart
In this ink
Because I wrote this poem with a sharpie pen
Fine point
Black ink
And I don't really like it
But I can see you
I always will
Despite your armadillo armor
You're here
Still
Stay a while longer
I know I will
I'm only halfway there
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry. ~from "Eating Poetry" by Mark Strand
6.10.2011
night time whiskings
It's evening again
Stars are kissing their way through
the clouds with ease, it seems
as though we may get one
more chance at making a wish
I wish you knew
what it feels like to
lay back and see days
whisked by
by the current
beneath the raft
don't breathe too deeply
You'll take all the air
we must conserve what is left
for fear of
fear of losing consciousness
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