Syllogism

If I could,

I would’ve

When you could,

You should’ve.

But you didn’t

And I couldn’t.

So we did

What we wouldn’t.

And now we have

What we shouldn’t,

Two regretful souls apart.

-April 8, 2014

Interlude

Maybe I’ll wait for you

For another three years,

Three hundred dreams and

A thousand more tears.

I will be patient.

I shall wait ‘til you be mine.

Will you love me then?

Will you at least try?

- March 31, 2014

along the way..i'll find my way to you.

First love

He was a boy and he was beautiful.

It was the 21^st of September, we were barely 16.

He took me to the city and held my hand.

We rode the ferris wheel and kissed in the haunted house.

He crashed my P.E. class and I taught him how to dance.

We danced on the rooftop of the computer lab, pretended we both had jobs.

We danced like fools, like birds, like forgotten poets on a deserted land.

I told him he had eyes of summer and he said I should not lie.

But I didn’t. He was my August sun.

We both ran away from a school trip once

And just sat on an empty sidewalk, waiting for a ride that we hoped would never come.

He told me he loved me and I told him he shouldn’t lie.

But he didn’t. I smiled, secretly. We had the world in our hands.

We felt so happy, though guileless.

What we had was a wonderful fondness,

A blissful memory, a life of its own.

But I didn’t know if it was love.

All of his stories, all of my words, all that we’ve shared were more than us.

Maybe we’ll never understand.

He went to the city, I went to another, we were meant for new adventures

Because youth has ended then.

It was melancholy they said and I cried like a child.

I tried to remember how he was so smart, so funny, how he smiled, how he kissed me,

And why all of these often crossed my mind.

One day I went home, learned he was also in town.

I saw him with his crumpled white shirt on, I smiled.

He smiled back at me.

It was nostalgic, complicated. But we’ve grown so much, so apart.

He was a man now. He was still beautiful.

I was once his, I thought.

And he was once mine.

- March 8, 2014

past perfect.

Shadow

I keep on running

            running after you

            running after love

            while you run away.

I watch your back

            watch you turn away

            with a little hesitation

            with eyes longing to stay.

So I’ll keep running

            run a little bit more

            until you look at me

            and run away no more.

-March 18, 2014

Would you?

Undone

I faintly remember the way you lean on the side of the door

When you’re trying to say something we after beat ourselves up in words.

You remind me of those young male protagonists

Swooning over their heroines.

You sometimes made me feel that the moments we were having

Were bleak memories ---uncertain, irrational but always there,

And no matter how vague, they never cease.

The way you squint your eyes when you're holding something back

Reminds me of the countless arguments we settled in silence;

While a revolution is rising in the deeper and inner workings of our hearts.

I will always remember that five minutes of beautiful awkwardness

We shared when we first met.

You were boisterous, I was eccentric. We were both bemused.

I clearly remember how I loved you when you didn’t know

and how you told me you loved me when I didn’t anymore.

I remember, brutally. How can I forget those words?

--Sept. 8, 2013

Her story

“What could be worse than a love that cannot be returned,” I asked.

They say it is the strongest yet the most painful,

To love someone who never loved you and will never love you back.

They say it’s like holding the right ticket trying to catch the wrong train that has long passed.

They say you feel suffocated but you never learn to stop.

They tell me in broken words and melancholic sighs,

“What could be worse than that?”

But she kept silent without knowing how they’ll ever learn

Of a love worse than a love unreturned

She tells me, “how can I describe a love so true but never pure?”

A love that long ago enslaved courtesans, chained men and women alike in places,

In memories and dreams they never should’ve been.

They silently die in corners, weeping for something, for someone in between.

She tells me of a love that can risk death but not life,

Such selfish, discrete, unspeakable, inconsolable love

For someone worthy and unworthy at the same time,

Of something so terribly wrong, that even those who claim to be righteous

Fall deep into this self-made trap

She tells me of wailing voices, pleading for love,

And a little more light, and mostly forgiveness.

Let her tell you more of a love for someone who loves back but is somebody else’s.

-Dec. 8, 2013

Like the first time

Tell me you love me and burn

My heart, sink me in the unfathomable

Pleasure of your touch; drown me in your embrace,

Read me those surreal poems, build us

An alternate universe of the most wondrous chaos

And wrongs; take me away, let me loose from this storm;

Push me against these old walls, breathe me in

As you surrender your pain, bring me to the darkest,

Most sacred palaces of your soul; give me the uncertainty

Of tomorrow, catch me, save me from my own depths

Of insurmountable tolls; lead me to serenity, find me

The saddest stories and sing them to me in voices

I’ve never heard of; enrage my demons with the sweetest

Taste of your emotions; speak in tongues, cleanse our bodies

With the shadows of our souls; dance with me

In silence until we fall,

Then kiss me, unhook my lips
From the foolish bliss of words,

Kiss me, my darling and never let go.

Dec. 11, 2013

Poems are made by fools like me..

lucid dreams

Remind me so I may never forget

To count the stars before I sleep

And lay my head upon words

As we dream of maps, caverns,

Cornfields, lighthouses and conflicted souls.

I shall be a gypsy in a forgotten town

I shall read palms, read minds, know the truth

But convince the mad ones otherwise.

I shall be a witch who turns

Hearts into fire, and fire to stone.

I shall be a pirate who lives

Amongst dreamers, cowards

Philosophers and even loons.

I shall be a poet and I

shall bask in immortality.

I shall be the genius in disguise.

I shall be a fool; I will love,

Love a forbidden love that will

Always be reminisced but

Will never be told.

Ad before I wake, break my crystal ball

And bury the tiny glass splinters.

Blow out the candles I lit,

Burn the little dolls I’ve sewn.

Let my ship sail away and let it

Drown with the truths of the world.

But if you may, leave those handwritten poems

Please leave that lonely love alone

For these two, I shall live and

Inevitably die for.

~~ Nov. 27, 2013

We all have strands of crazy, bonkers, crazy bonkers.

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