The first real thing

We slept upside down in your bed,
Held wars over heat, and used each other as blankets
Knowing we could only wrap ourselves up in each other for so long
before the alarm would ring,
Before classes started, patients waiting,
social engagements rang, and rang again.
If we could have found a fort to stay in
away from the satisfaction of busy,
Would you still taste me now,
Would I still be the last thing on your tongue
when mentioning how you are
How are you?
Are you happy?
Do you know you taught me what ‘gay’ means?
My best friend apologized,
For not being there through this heartbreak
I told her this is not heartbreak
My heart is still whole,
And it is still hers,
It just needs to be given and received
in a different capacity
My capacity to love you amazes me.
And I hope we always have the tools
to manage the love we need
I hope I always know what that looks like
I hope my friendship holds your worries
as the lover in me held your hips
I hope you think of me, and it doesn’t hurt.
I hope you phone at inappropriate hours if you need to
And appropriate hours when you don’t need to.
I hope the future looks something like honest
Like there is this piece of me over there,
sometimes I make sure to polish it,
Don’t let your vulnerability rust
Don’t let trust evade us.
Maybe jumping off of mountains will show us
The thrill of having faith
Even if that faith is not in what we started with.
I want to free fall
And be ok with not landing where you do
Love is something like a commitment to yourself
to always know where you are when you are lost.
I spent my life in back alleys,
thinking them pathways to adventure,
But woke up in a dense forest-
your name in my palm
Your cheek against mine
My promise to you growing taller.
This is a tall order - And I intend to fill it.
I know that our best is all we have
I know not to apologize for what I need.
I know I want to give you what you need.
So I am glad
I am glad we know ourselves
I am glad we know eachother
I am glad you know yourself.
I am glad your kitchen table will hold my dedication
And our homes will remain this far apart,
That we spent nights dancing, and will continue to do so
That I trust you enough, to feel safe,
To be happy with this.
I don’t need to kiss you,
to wish you well.
I love you,
and I wish you well.
Be well.

Perspective

Found wandering the back alley like doorstep vagabond
this man's thoughts are familiar
Why are you here? (why are you here)
(humming)
''How many times have I seen
the rise and fall of the skyline,
a broken ecg of this city.''
Can’t say I ever expected this,
the hiss of street vents,
my memory’s gone foggy,
bending sleep by daylight.
i know the cold of a new yorkers face
at midnight.
I’ve been waiting for things to change
for longer than my hands
have held the promise of asking.
(humming)
We're back to this woman,
she keeps saying
Hush hush its warm here,
emptiness sounds peaceful when its broken
This house has heard the fire place
die every night for ages
Sweltering fingertips,
I can’t bring myself to leave it.
Alone
I know someone who needs a home
more than I do
Feel selfish for not being grateful,
the snow outside is teasing me
i thinks its time i go for a walk
let the sharp air shake me up
i need to wake up,
oooh, its cold out here.
(humming)
now back to this man's thoughts
the street signs wont lead me to where i want to be
torn map, moist gloves,
the park has seen smiles
warmer than mine has been in ages.
i need to warm up
i need to warm up.
There they are.
There they are...
back to this woman she keeps saying
ooh, its cold,
its strange, how its beautiful
these children keep playing,
this bench, is inhabited.
i wonder, were i to live here
this man, smells of perspiration,
attempt, and beer.
i wonder if he sees the children.
oooh, its cold out here,
and back to this man's thoughts
There they are, thinking that snow balls are magic
that their mothers are perfect
there they are and this woman next to me
she looks like desire and heartache
wouldnt want to be,
this woman next to me
looks like desire and heartache
these children are beautiful
the woman keeps saying
these children are beautiful
this man keeps thinking
these children are beautiful
it is so cold in the winter,
she keeps saying
these children, are beautiful.

Those children look
like they don’t know how cold the snow is.

Lace

The city started
to taste like sleepless nights,
My eyes wandered over
expecting a hip to distract me,
But it didn’t.
I wondered if you ever get vertigo,
If you ever almost wake up screaming,
but decide that would be inappropriate.
Life has handed me
some funny things lately
But none of them
are as pleasant as the way she tastes
The way she aches from too much work
that’s too easy to put off
Ive been off sorting some things out
And I decided, its not gray.
Its just black and white at the same time.
I spend too much time watching.
I need to stop assuming people know of my meories.
Lover,
Fuck you are gorgeous
Lover, let me ksis your spine
let it lead me to the lace I didn’t expect to find,
Lover, tis true that this, in a way, is new to me,
But its been a long time coming
Lover,
Your fingers rival your determination
Im afraid of how much you could do
And maybe im in over my head far too soon
But I feel like ive been waiting
for a woman like you.
Like life threw me a bone
because I had figured out what I needed
Just not the shape it would come in.
I haven’t experienced vertigo lately
Sleep sound as a baby,
Granted never for too long…
Clench my sheets the few nights you aren’t there and
Actually feel like they’re good enough.
Ive come to love the way this city tastes.

pins & needles

There’s something beautiful
in knowing we all dream -
Knowing there is no
unreasonable expectation
that isn’t shared by someone;
By millions upon millions of people, in fact.
I know I haven’t always been easy
but I can tell you I’ve never stopped myself from loving.
And if that’s the only thing I’ve done right, I can live with that.
How often do you think about everything we’ve been through?
How often do you need to remind yourself
of the lessons along the way
until you feel like you’ve truly learnt them?
Because ive watched too many people torture themselves ,
telling themselves
they’ve made the same mistake again
when it’s not true
Its not true at all
Forgive me for a moment,
and allow me to use an extraordinary cliché,
‘’a mistake is only a mistake
if it is miss taken’’
and even at that each mistake is a new one,
and is really no mistake at all –
its just another chance to grow,
to feel,
to experience a little piece of yourself
that until that moment
had been hidden from daylight,
filling the corners of your being with cobwebs
and the dust you eventually allow other fingers to draw in-
write their names on-
leave you messages and drawing that look like childhood doodles-
(just know they are much more intentional than that.
And that it is time to do a spring cleaning.)

Dusting the attic won’t mean disturbing its peace,
it means making room
for the new beautiful things to run through it-
it means turning it into a living room
that you aren’t afraid to touch and walk through
and invite your guest to sip tea and sometimes gin,
and always leave crumbs behind –
you’ll remember the fun it was to make them
when you are tidying up again.
Its amazing – when that attic is clear of its current clutter
How much more room you will have-
I feel like we are all too full right now,
Like we wont allow ourselves to take more in because of it-
Tell me about those you have loved,
tell me about the places you have seen
and the things that have made you feel alive.
I want to watch pins and needles
carry tides of recognition through your body-
bringing you back to life
and bursting with the promises of new feeling(s)-
I want to watch the tingling sensation rise through your heart
and turn into those stars I see in your eyes
on the morning s that follow deep sleeps and heartache –
simply because you woke up again,
and today is a new day.

Changing

It feels like rain today
Like heavy handed, soft spoken
Like- please wash over me-
It feel like the clouds caught last night’s candles and blew then out-
Hot wax covering us all in attempt to keep these moments intact
-When summer hits, I want to sit in a fruit tree all day
-Read novels and pretend I am both writing and in them at the same time,
let this world fall away.
-I want to be able to say- I was here once, but I don’t really need to remember it
-This trunk will do that for me….
-This old wood isn’t nearly easy enough to find, easy enough to hide in anymore
I am still a summer child,
and when the sun disappears and water graces us with its presence,
I am relieved. Relieved that I don’t have to keep pretending I live in another world
The death of changing colours and these shadows are very real to me….

lighter shades of you

I’ve been painting my bedroom red
since the age of 12,
And given that I move a lot
that sums up to about two dozen times.
Now there are plenty of speculations
about why that may be
or how its affected me,
And the only thing I cant tell you
is that its true.
Its intense, its rich,
living in luxurious tones of bold
has always suited me.

But something changed recently
I got a glimpse of the life I wanted,
and discovered I wasn’t yet the person
that would fit in it

So I changed it
The red
I had clung to for so long,
Now its blue
Im talking about my bedroom
because it’s the room I spend the most time in
Those walls hold the shades I live in,
And have
since even before my heavy crimson trend

But I didn’t paint it blue
to remind me of you,
Im not quite that much of a masochist
I was just hoping
that living in lighter shades
Would someday lead me
to being light enough myself
for the things you showed me I want
I could give you a thousand reasons
why blue was never the right colour .
I didn’t want open sky,
that’s too exposed
I wanted the closed comfort
of a colour that is inside me
That knows me -
But that’s the old me
(hopefully)
Well, at least if this whole colour thing works.

notes on life

I had never seen a face that fell into a smile

i was confused because i knew the things you told me
from the begining - and was aware of them all along
i just didnt think they mattered

i wonder if you will ever find out
that you left a part of yourself with me


i am the center of a family
that has yet to form around me.
i believe that i will be loved
as i know to love
-wholly- and unconditionally-

im listening

Im trying hard not to write another love story
there are just too many
everyone wants to talk about love
i want to write about rapture
about how your heart was a beautiful woman
and you dont miss her.
when you feel empty
and organized
you forget if you have black or blue eyes
because sidewalks and concrete
are more familiar than mountain tops and sea walks.

I often write about the weight of other things
but i rarely get around
to telling you about just feeling heavy
of your heart reaching two tons
more than your ribs can take.
this monotonous, droning step carries so many
I know we all hurt
dont tell me you arent angry
i am angry
and i am lonely
but i am not love sick

lets stick to the facts
like what time my alarm rings
and what sings me awake in the morning
- i usually have that song stuck in my head all day-
these are the simple things
because it still stings to talk about anything else
and the way someones arms felt
doesnt concern any of you...
you have your own lovers to miss
and this chapter in my life can be called short and sweet

lets address all the thingswe want to say to strangers on the street
because we are all equally as clueless there
that way what im talking about is clear
and the people that linger near my corner these days
all look like they need to be told to wake up
so wake up
and keep your chin up

we all have love stories
i dont want to know what you think of at night
i want to know what you hear in the morning
when your alarm rings
because i want to know you
i want to tell you
that there are so many people to learn from
and if you cant find five thousand
in seven billion
then youll never know what love is
because you just werent listening.

I loved a man who was a ghost

I loved a man who wasnt mine,
spent days jumping between obligation and habit
-spent nights jumping between obligation and desire.
I loved a man who spoke differently than i did,
a man who never hid
behind the way the line comes out
when you mean it less...
but because of this
i never told him the things that sounded too easy
that sounded too smooth,
-i tried to give you imperfection, hoping you would hold it-
and i wonder if he knew it
but if i said what i had meant to
when you were still looking at me
-and i managed something about a change of scenery-
it would have sounded more like an offer:
to be someone living in the life of another
as though they were familiar,
regardless-
to pretend this friend was someone who's space couldn't be taken up
quite as easily as i'm sure it could be..
replace the lovers you hold in your court
replace the whispers exchanged in public places
and the sensation of falling -
but dont replace the phone call
of excitement, or of sorrow
dont replace the friendship,
dont replace the offer to see you tomorrow
or the next day
or the next day
because i will stay in the role of go to
for as long as you will let me
because i will still go to you....
and if i could, i would tell you:
Don’t cut me out.
Sometimes logic rules us in a way it shouldn’t,
Sometimes we don’t recognize this…
Don’t cut me out
Believe me when I tell you
The best gift I could ever give you,
Is to love you.
Don’t cut me out until the voices you hear through the walls
sound nothing like your own,
and you know you are at peace with your thoughts.
Don’t cut out the part of your life that is foreign
That is lonely
That wants to be home.
Don’t cut me out,
Using shoe string as a telephone wire,
I didn’t quite hear you through all that clarity.
Don’t cut me out,
because the secrets you hid within me
Are still there,
and they may not be allowed to see sunlight,
but they still need to be nurtured.
Don’t cut me out-
There are traces of you everywhere
and without your presence they are like empty ghosts,
their hearts beat but not strong enough to keep them alive-
they haunt my bedroom, my sheets, my radio waves and laundry-
They haunt my bookshelf, my heart and my poetry.
Don’t cut me out
I’ve set my back against a train before,
and even it was easier to keep still-
Even as it pushed me south...
I know what it’s like to fight against the direction you’re from.
Don’t cut me out,
Ill trace your midnight with constellations, just to show you,
Even stars want to be close.
Don’t cut me out,
You’re more familiar with boundaries, borders, and stop signs-
I know I gave you a construction zone with merge signals and green lights…
but don’t cut me out-
I hope you need to know me,
the best thing you’ve ever told me,
is that you grew with these moments spent together.
Don’t cut me out.
I don’t need you to take anything back,
Just let me in…
I don’t need you to be mine,
But I need to be yours…

night turns to day

Her dreams haunt her lately
And like the portrait of a woman that sits still in her mother’s hallway
She waits
And watches them drift by –
hoping her lover wont notice the way her muscles tense
and her eyes fight to squeeze shut and open to safety at the same time
She’s beautiful, but she’s not sure he knows this
not sure he holds more than a fraction of her wholeness
The nightmares
Have stripped awareness
and the differentiation of memory and story
Blackberry cinnamon buns drip down her fingers as she sings him sweet and sticky songs-
Too much sugar he says-
I take my tea clear
And my coffee black
But she knows he cant imagine what hes bargaining for,
Or what she was like before she was sweetened…
These streets hold more than history
They hold the scars that lay hidden between thighs
And the regret carried around like a torn wallet
- All of your worth just seems to keep falling out….

Have you ever seen a dog that’s been beaten so badly
they cower at even the slightest of attention
Affection never comes with promises of comfort
When you’ve been kicked in the stomach
Left bare to the world ---

They spent the days talking about direction
And the nights about sex
‘it seems fitting, doesn’t it?’
The way he could fuck her like a woman who’s morning face would never be seen
But that’s not right
And he only ever had the best of intentions
One day they would look back and say
‘what a shame, that she sent him away before the day could break on their kind of love’
But I’ll tell you one thing
I don’t want to be the woman from the story above
- you’ve given me your arms to fall asleep in
And for right now that’s close enough to love.

shame like this

There is such thing as beautiful shame
I cant stop thinking of her telling me
‘this is an honest shame’
As though in that moment
her truth had felt every callus
on every lover we had had before then.
There are stories here
Laying, unwritten,
on skin that has seen love come and go
Skin that knows the value of what it holds –
I am but a shield, it says
Wrap yourself in me, and i will protect you.
Wrap yourself in me, and i will become you.

There are children waiting by the sea's edge
Their sanbox spans deep and glorious
they are like us,
waiting for blue tides to carry memories further away,
But always back in
Always back in
Always back in.
I have been swimming,
Submerged in honesty
As though to redeem myself
‘Look here, see my weakness before you, and make love to it’
I know its not easy to cherish
But it is here regardless
Your mouth rests gently along my apologies
Swallowing them whole
Telling me in return, that you are not foreign
Telling me in return, not to be ashamed
I have named the breaks and bruises that line me
Their meaning vanishing before you like their sincerity
You can point them all out now,
You know how to touch them so that it doesn’t hurt.
You are beautiful
But the worst part
Is that you are also lovely
Tell me,
Have you felt, shame like this?
I want to make it feel better
Make it feel natural
I want you to be well acquainted,
So that when it reaches you again,
There is no fear there.
Beware only of those who don’t deserve to know of it.
I want to hold your cheeks in my hands
Kiss your open palm
And tell you
I can hold yours,
Because thanks to you - I
don’t feel mine anymore.

A Question

(Know that I will rarely post other poets work)

A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.

-Robert Frost-

East of Eden

You argued that the map pointed east
That we had been here before
And it was certainly no treat…
I know, I said.
I know.
I know how rainy Sundays aren’t always soothing
-How your laugh lines can look forced
But the west coast has given us freedom
And I may be the first one to leave
When this city can’t hold you anymore,
But I will always come back.
I will always argue that no smell like the ocean
Can make me feel at ease,
And the people on the streets here
Don’t all look like they are alone/
Our daybreak tilted an hour glass
-I feel the grinding as our time slides out-
-You can feel the friction
As I subtly escape your arms… -
I know,
I know it wasn’t easy when I went east.
So now, I am home
And I am one of those people on the streets,
It’s funny how without you I don’t look as alone
The phone has started ringing on a regular basis again
And I wake up when the sun shines through my window
I feel like the widow to a city that died for me some time ago
Don’t believe all the hype about new York
I’ve been trying to write this piece for months now
Trying to decide
How I could find the words to say
I don’t miss it anymore
That the shore line took me back
Graciously
And for this I will be grateful
There is a man here
whos smile is more honest than any i had ever seen
he is more than part of the scenery...
I am grateful.
Vancouver
you are beautiful….

sail boat stories (ten hours of my life)

I kissed her,
And I cant say I didn’t mean to
I did.
I knew exactly what I was getting into.
I kissed her and suddenly 1 am turned 11 am,
and she was still there.
When i found her lips, I wasn’t thinking of you.
I am always thinking of you.
Maybe that’s why
It worries me,
the time you spend running circles in my mind
leaving me with empty ovals
in the shape of question marks, and arms
It worries me
How well you go through the motions
It worries me
That you don’t understand
the way I live emotions
But I wouldn’t expect you to.
Just forgive me
Please
For the lips that parted post-coffee
For the night that started with sangria,
And the knowledge that you were far away.
Forgive me, for being selfish, imperfect
Imperfect enough to hurt you.
thought maybe not as much as i thought i could.
maybe you dont feel, quite as i do
Forgive me,
Because I panicked,
when I told you I loved you
you know I have love for you
But these things are not the same.
I have so much love.
And I know,
I wasn’t meant to share it with her.
But I did.
Forgive me.

bread crumbs

You’ve always known me best
Rest your head to my chest
And breathe.

It’s a shame
That no one else can know you
No one else can hold you
The way we hold each other

Like the last threads of fidelity
A sort of twisted virginity
That we insist on clinging to
Like pigeons to the bread crumbs
They have come to depend on.

the sound of sleepless beginings

i hear pins drop and think of you
their tip seems to be hitting some perfect apex of sound
some kind of crystal clear 'just enough'
this is the stuff that keeps me awake at night
imaginary sounds and narrations provided by myself

clearly things arent as sharp at the moment
clearly the answers aren't letting me lull into certainty
but i seem to be ok with that
because on the nights i cant sleep
you stay up with me
and you can guarantee at some point
ill make forts out of these bed sheets
and tell you i need to hide,
or maybe i need a story

regardless
at least im not afraid
to ask for these things

im listening to something
...

subtle sounds of dropping,
of falling ...
or the answers between the lines
of which tale you chose to tell;
i fell into one of them
on a night that i needed escape more than ever
and dreams just wouldnt come to me

but im not sure you knew that
not sure you knew the heavy reasons
i can no longer say i sleep ten hours a night
( yes, i really did used to )

but i am sure you dont need to.
maybe its enough to tuck myself in
or on lucky nights, let him.
maybe its enough,
that she will be here
on my second night in a new home
and my first, will be alone.
the way you enter a place
and the way you leave it
are never the same,
save that.

all in all i come full circle
when i wake in the morning
i am more hopefull
than ever.
and its summer
so the sun is bright these days,
there to reasure me,
that im right.
and this stays with me all day
until late, late at night

- these questions can wait
another 20 odd hours
before revisiting me
before i try once more
to sleep

One more run

Hello,
Health
How ya been?
I heard she saw you
Crossing the street
Waving goodbye’s
As the train went by.
You are that one celebrity,
You know you will always be loved.

Hey there
Health,
Where ever did you go?
Is the grass really greener on the other side?
And how is the neighbor’s lawn treating you?
How are you treating him?
I hear he’s getting old
And he’s told his wife
Just how he feels about you
You know its about time you pack up and move on
The song youre signing
Hasn’t known radio waves in ages
I think its time to upgrade
You're too bulky, for our generation
Our generation of small and sleek
Of fast and free.

Hi again,
Health.
So glad to have you back,
I always did love retro
And figured I didn’t belong in this era
You are my vintage friend
I’ve opened my door again
And set my pride down
Long enough to tell you I’ve missed you.
To tell you my lungs didn’t hold breath the same way without you here
My tongue hasn’t tasted ‘sweet’ in years
And these tears
Have looked more like acid rain,
When my body isn’t too dry to produce them
I was used to then,
Until you hopped on that train.
But don’t worry I understand,
I know we all need to travel
All need to leave sometime.

Goodbye again health,
It was nice to have you back.

drifting

Spent the night with soft slumber again
Waved hello
as quickly as I waved goodbye;
We used to be so close-

I miss the sweet taste sleep came with,
Back then.
Back when nothing could keep us from the time we spent together,
REM and I,
But why bother fight
What years filled with life
brought me to
Why bother fight
That these sunsets
and sunrises are both occupied
By thoughts and songs
And when we are lucky, arms.

The last twelve hours
Are littered with unkempt promises to myself
With the best of intentions,
I could simply never make it to.

Agreeing to let go, for now.
To rest
To recover
To prepare myself
for yet another sunrise
For yet another day
filled until that follow of sunset
I don’t regret
The few hours a day
where I belong to another world.
A softer, less critical one
Where nothing is hanging
on the hinges of distrust
Or voyeurs.
These voyages
Are my own.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep again,
You will learn
that those around you
Will forgive your current state,
Will be there when you wake.

doorstep vagabond

Found wandering the back alley
Like door step vagabond
All residential neighbourhood
Misunderstood
Saying
‘I belong here’
I belong here.
The years
Of stepping on the sidewalk cracks
Have amounted to some seriously bad luck
But that doesn’t mean hes given up
On finding a space large enough
To hold hat rack
from where he can rock comfort
As he looks back
on when life
was a little rougher,
When his skin was a little tougher
and bits of broken glass
were mere pebbles beneath his feet
when he knew the luxury
of tasting sunlight on a grassy knoll
when everyone else did as well
so that he could pretend
he was just one of them.
he had once,
been just one of them

............

On an evening for red roses
we all eventualy revisit
these lives we have chosen
(bare in mind - we do
the best we can)

Do not be fooled
into believing
they had forgotten eachother.
when we believe we are watching out
for the others
we have held.
the others we have come
to recognize
as family.
red roses
were no longer home

ive only heard this story
from a distance
but the colour of these flower petals
sound like the history
of knowing who we love
to me

i am certain
we do the best we can
with how we know to love

Familiarity

I want you in that-
‘this is really scary’
kind of way

in that
‘I want you so so so bad,
I could hardly even begin
to tell you about it’
way

I’ve come to want you so much
that even a dream without your face
seems lonely
Because you’re home to me,
Or at least you should be…

You’re front door
straight into living room
Leading to the kitchen
with counters we sat on,
spent our lives talking around...
I want the sound
of floor boards creaking,
and old staircases
that whisper like guests come night time…
Of windows that don’t open well,
But that you've learnt to crack
With fingers tricks
that make things smoother
than WD40 could.

I want the cradle that is my arm
to know warm skin again,
To know the way children pretend
life is exactly what they want from it
I want you-
Because I’ve needed
to alter my definition of mother
Because I’m learning
to live with little more
than memory of father,
Because you were certainly
never a brother
I shudder,
at that thought.
Because I miss my sister.

I want you back,
Image the home movie of when I was too young to remember
told me I once had
The way I once knew to live with you
To love you
To live by you…

I want to see the comfort in blood ties
and slightly bruised finger,
from years of having the same one on.

There are too many things
missing from the picture
And the mantle
has been collecting dust,
Abandoned, empty
Of base
Of bonds
Of giant boulders of strength
I want it all,
The image of family