another again

fingers frozen in a tight grip. wrapped around the seconds that we once spent. trying to find a smile while a frown slips. cant eat, nothing tastes like your lips. attempting to lose all the memories of you that my heart’s kept. don’t understand why life made you come right to leave me left. was walking strong, now i’m struggling for one breath. going to make it slow, wishing my mind a quick death. results were the worst, after all that i gave best. the road’s straight, but my stride’s bent. think of you when i relax, the absence of your face makes my jaw clench. didn’t go as planned, empty palms where my hands extend. got a million new plans, old you turns them into one mess. needing to leave the pieces alone, i hate puzzles that make no sense. should’ve given up hope for my last lent. can’t run away fast enough imagining your arms wrapped around my leg. money can’t buy happiness but i’ve tried to pawn this and offer up my last cent. tempted to walk all the way up to heaven and ask them what this all meant. devil’s cupid warned me about falling for the godsend. kicked me when i was down, undeserved dent. lost my mind when my head reached your chest. if it were that easy to let go, trust that i would’ve went. finding my beginning that starts where you end. just another again. as to why we met. just another. another again.

-Kate Starr

Telling

I don’t know what to say to you.
I could tell you…
that every time I hear your name
I feel
imaginary
continuous
punching.
Right here.
Right here in my stomach.
I could tell you…
how every time I shut my eyes
my chest feels like it might get crushed from the air that I breathe…
in.
and out.
I could tell you…
how every time I see your face.
every time I see your face…
every time I see your face I don’t even know whether I should cry or smile.
So I don’t do either.
I could tell you…
that every time I’m even in the county limits of where you are
I wish so hard.
I beg divinity.
That I might get the chance to see you.
Even if you’re across the street, holding her hand.
…That your eyes would catch mine
and that we might be unfortunately blessed with that awkward glance, pause, stare moment.
Just so that I could remember for a second,
what love is.
I could tell you…
how whenever I think of your lips on my neck
I turn up the heater…
to calm the relentless chills
that the memory of your kiss,
breaks my back with.
I could tell you…
that
I never promised anyone anything more real,
than what I promised you.
Without saying a word.
I could tell you…
how whenever I think that the bruises heavy sighs have left on my ribs,
have healed
and that my heartbeat is finally settling…
A simple affirmation of your existence
warps me through emotional havoc.
And I remember what death feels like.
I could tell you.
What you don’t know.
But everything I’d want to tell you.
You already know.

*Written by Kate*Starr, I love these words. I mean, who can't relate to this? Great job boo!

"Just Friends"

I mean, I get it.
But let’s be real.
This whole “lets just be friends” thing is a joke.
Your mouth is saying “hey buddy”
But your eyes are saying “kiss me.”
You cross your arms
So you hold back from taking me in them.
We talk about the weather, and work,
But that’s not what I’m really listening to.
All I hear is the nervous tap of your foot,
And I bet if I were close enough, I could hear your heart racing.
When you take that first look at me when you pick me up,
I can tell you try and catch your breath.
And when I’m doing something silly,
I turn to you and I see you smile at me.
Like I said let’s be real.
You don’t feel that we’re really “just friends”
So we say it because it’s what we “should say.”
But you look a little too deep into my eyes for a little too long,
and pause a little longer than you should when we say goodbye.
But the real reason I know that this is all true?
Because it’s exactly how I feel.
But I’ll never tell you,
Because, we’re “just friends.”

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love, for your dreams,
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
mine or your own, without moving to hide it
or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own.
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy
fill you to the tips of your fingers
and toes without cautioning us
to be careful, be realistic,
remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day,
and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,"Yes."

It doesn't interest me to know where you live,
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what
or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company
you keep in the empty moments.

What it's about

It’s never going to matter how many magazines I grace,
Or how many billboards I’m on.
It’s never going to matter how many times I have had my heart broken
Or how many times I’ve been in love.
It’s not about my past,
And it’s not necessarily about my future.
It’s not about what I do for a living,
Or what I do to keep my mind busy.
At the end of the day,
It’s not about me.
It’s about your feelings.
It’s not about your past,
And it’s not necessarily about your future.
I don’t care what you do for a living,
Or what you like to do to make the time pass faster.
I don’t care how many times you’ve been in love,
Or if you’ve ever been in love.
Today, it’s about you.
And if you could love me.

a bit longer.

I wish that I could go back to that last hour we were together.
I was laying in bed watching you get ready for work.
It was so cold that morning,
And so warm tucked under those sheets.
You were taking a long shower
And my eyes began to close.
They opened again when you got out of the shower,
I tried to persuade you back in bed but you said no.
You began to get dressed,
And I honestly have never seen you so handsome.
You walked over and said I looked like an angel in your sheets
And again I grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back in,
But you said no.
You then kissed me goodbye
And told me you loved me.
I wish that that kiss could have lasted just a bit longer.
That that hour would have lasted a bit longer.
And that most of all, we lasted a bit longer.

First poem of 2010

You’ve been knocking on my door for a long time now,
And I finally opened it.
I opened the door, and my city disappeared.
In front of me was a country town.
Where people talk funny and don’t know
How to pronounce Yves Saint Laurent.
This place is foreign, and new
And scary, but most of all, lovely.
I don’t know if it’s a place I could be tomorrow,
But it’s where I’m standing today.
The sky seems a bit more blue,
And the air feels better in my lungs.
I like it here.
Because here, the sun shines a bit brighter.
I’d like to stay here a little while longer.
I don’t need tomorrow to come
Because here, the sun shines a bit brighter.

You Can Be "At Last" by Etta James

I posted a version of this before, but Rudy's live performance is so moving. He ceases to come up with the most amorous phrases and sentences...and honestly he says what love is. I fall in love everytime he drops a metaphor. Please listen closely.

Read forwards, then backwards (line by line)

I am part of a lost generation
and I refuse to believe that
I can change the world
I realize this may be a shock but
“Happiness comes from within.”
is a lie, and
“Money will make me happy.”
So in 30 years I will tell my children
they are not the most important thing in my life
My employer will know that
I have my priorities straight because
work
is more important than
family
I tell you this
Once upon a time
Families stayed together
but this will not be true in my era
This is a quick fix society
Experts tell me
30 years from now, I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce
I do not concede that
I will live in a country of my own making
In the future
Environmental destruction will be the norm
No longer can it be said that
My peers and I care about this earth
It will be evident that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic
It is foolish to presume that
There is hope.

“Lost Generation” - Jonathan Reed

Hope.

if i was a luv poet - rudy francisco

Holding on

Holding on with both hands,
As if I were to let go and fall to my death.
Suddenly only 9 fingers remain holding on.
It sure is hard to hold on so tight.
I remember that first day I saw you
I didn’t know who you were or what you did,
But then again I didn’t care.
8 fingers remain holding on.
I remember our first conversation.
You seemed frightened,
And I felt eager.
7 fingers holding on.
I didn’t think I was your type
And I figured it couldn’t be possible for you to want me.
6 fingers.
I remember the first time I was alone with you.
Both of us were terrified to make the first move,
So we lay next to each other all night—no words,
No touch, no anything.
5 fingers.
Whenever we are in the same room together
It gives me joy to know that we have a secret.
A secret between us that no one will ever understand.
4 fingers.
I remember the first time we were intimate.
It was gentle and rough, and new and exciting.
3 fingers.
I remember the first time you flaked on me.
And at first it didn’t hurt that much.
It only started to hurt once I realized this would be a regular thing with you.
2 fingers.
And it then occurred to me that this would never work.
That I would forever be second.
That you may never hold my hand in public
And that I would forever remain your secret.
1…finger…left…lingering.
I tried to look past everything.
But I don’t think I can.
I still don’t know what you want from me.
And you definitely don’t know how much I have given up for you.
And just as I am unsure, you will never know the way I felt about you.

I feel that if I were to reach up, and stretch,
My other hand may be able to latch back on.
But instead, I am choosing to let go.
No longer shall I hold on by a solitary finger.
And then…expecting to fall…I flew.

9:47-9:53pm

For the most part I'm okay these days.
The weather's been gorgeous.
Allie's been waking me up with the cutest face.
And finally my closet's organized to perfection.
The boxes of shoes perfectly aligned.
And the ceiling fan repeatedly blows breezes in my face.
A constant reminder that Indian Summer is here.
September's almost over.
I have a test next week.
And I think it should be easy.
But right now.
It's 9:47pm.
And hot as hell.
And I miss you so much.
I'm hurting.
I'm sitting on my bed.
With a pillow in my lap.
Having it there at least gives me some sort of fake imaginary sense
of touch..
of feel.
And all I could ever ask for in this moment is to hear your voice.
And all that sounds appealing is to replay that night that I loved.
And all I want is for you.
I miss you.
I miss your laugh.
..being able to reach out to you
knowing you would reach back.
The colors of my covers haunt me.
The deep red.
My heart bled on these covers.
My heart bled when I loved you.
It's 9:53pm,
I miss you so unbearably much.
But I'll still fall asleep.
Just sometimes...
I still hurt.
'Cause sometimes...
I still love you.

Never Ever There

Sometimes I find myself searching...
my lips move funny and then I feel the words spill out
..come out, come out
And so I walk down the hallway
and my fingers drag against the wall...
grainy textures...
For a second I'm happy to be reminded I can feel.
At least that.
'Cause the hallway never ends.
and every corridor,
every turn
every door knob,
every room.
Never leads to you.
Sometimes I wish I could yell
times up...
Maybe you'd reappear.
And so then I get excited that perhaps
it means I'm almost near...
So I sprint to the first door,
swing it open and before I think, I say
"There You..."

But I freeze.

...'Cause you're never there.

And so i place my hands together
humbly exit
and get real quiet.
Thinking if you see me so discouraged,
or if you catch a tear,
You'd come out and let me feel.
You...
But you won't.

...'Cause you're never there.

So I go about in this empty house...
and let my eyes wander.
Last time I stared so hard
I even let the water boil over.
When I'm in bed, staring at the ceiling.
I swear I hear the front door's lock turn over.
But when I wait for your touch to meet my arm.
It never happens.

...'Cause you're never there.

When my eyes shut,
Every 15 minutes I open them wide.
Thinking I'll catch you.
Thinking I might discover where you hide.
Inevitably the calender pages get ripped off
month by month.
I realize I'm never winning.
Hide and Seek
But I keep looking.
When it gets dark, I sleep walk
because I can't stop trying.
Irrevocably convinced you're still here.
Forever looking.
I'll never find you.
It's a lonely existence.
Without you.

'Cause you're never

ever

ever

there.

Thank You for All The Wrong Reasons

Thank you.
Thank you for using me.
Thank you for walking all over me.
Thank you for abusing my kindness.
Thank you for abusing my trust.
Thank you for assuming I’ll always come back.
Thank you for assuming I’ll always keep my pretty little mouth shut.
Thank you for putting everyone else before me.
Thank you for walking out of my life without a goodbye.
Thank you for abandoning me when I was at my complete and utter worst.
Thank you for lying to my face.
I promised myself I wouldn’t let you do this to me again.
And yet… here we are.
It’s endless, right?
Like a merry-go-round.
Round and round we go.
But the thing is, I’m not enjoying the ride anymore.
I want out. I want out. I want out.
I need to get out.

Kiss me

*I like to write about people that inspire me, it's not often that I am inspired to write poetry and anyone who does, well...thank you. This poem in particular was written for a very particular someone...*


Your foot slowly touches mine
And our legs slowly intertwine.
My hand grazes you chest
Your fingers gently touch my breast.
I watch your lips with every word
You say my hearts beating fast, it was meant to be heard.
Your fingers make their way up my spine
My body is calling, don’t you hear me whine?
You may not be the best
But you’re what I want, forget the rest.
I feen for you, crave you,
All I can say is I want you.
Please make the move,
I’m scared, I don’t wanna lose
You.
Kiss my lips, I’m asking you to stay,
If you kiss me now, we can have it your way.

Tension

And in the case you should feel heavy tension...

Drop your bags and stretch your legs.

Run over to your desires.

Pin me up and tell me truth,

let me have a peek at your inspirations.

Whisper softly what you want,

because I will correctly guess your needs.

Fold over and let me see your core.

It's new. It's different. It's exciting.

I want to know more than what you've given up.

I want to feel more than you offer.

So through your tight lipped answers, and explanations...

I want to touch on something undiscovered.

Don't fret the negative, don't fight the positive,

we're right here in the moment.

And when your finger tips touch mine,

It's bound to be amazing.

So recite the words and grasp the emotion,

Im reading between the lines.

And when you reach,

and when you catch,

and when you dare...

Our lips,

our arms,

our hands,

our cheeks,

our eyes,

our chests,

our chaos...

shall intertwine.

I never asked you

But I never asked you for lies. 

I wanted to hear your voice. 

You know...

just thinking as I 

skimmed my fingers along the chiffon dress..

the one that seemed to remind me of the moment...

when you told me I was pretty.

What a beautiful dress...

and how ugly I feel now when I put it on.

So bitter, so negative. 

At night when I arrive at the gate,

I can smell you. 

Actually, 

it's the scent of tobacco.

Its rich and deep penetration hits my head hard.

How strange.

I find happiness in that disgusting stench. 

And I remember your face so clearly.

And my eyes veer towards the chair, 

by the window.

The packets of sugar that sit next to your empty cup of coffee.

The row of lighters that adorn the center of the table..

black, yellow, white. 

How long I lingered there. 

How patiently I sat, 

and talked, 

and talked, 

and sat.

How patient I became, 

as if everything suddenly........

stopped. 

And though I had somewhere to be, somewhere to go.

I did not care.

And I asked you many questions. 

And I asked your eyes for understanding.

But I never asked you for lies. 

I never asked you to call me pretty, 

I never asked you for your drawn out embrace. 

I never asked you.

I never asked you. 

I never asked you. 

I

never

asked

you.

And you said a little too much

yet not a lot, 

and you touched me too deeply, 

although I only felt you for a second.

And you loved me more than you should've

Because, you loved me.

And you shouldn't have loved me at all.

Because, I never asked you. 

Because, Now you're gone. 

Piano Man

White and black.
Just like the colors of my favorite photo.
His fingers glide across them like a child skating on an ice rink.
The sound of his gliding, is equivalent to my heartbeat.
It starts slow, and quickly speeds.
With each note, I gasp for air.
I do not know the song he is playing,
Nor do I wish to know.
But whatever song it is,
I could sing to for eternity.
Before this man sat down, I did not know the depths of his soul,
But now I see him as a man with quintessence.
He plays the song that is me.
He is my melody.
He is my beat…
For he knows what song my heart sings.

Talk to me

Talk to me. 

I'm listening.

Like a fool I sit and think...

and make up silly, stubborn and unreal, 

never-going-to happen sort of things.

I imagine all the words unspoken...

crooked realities, mixed punctuation, unclear meanings 

and even vivid dreams.

In case you forgot,

I got some ears.. 

two to be exact.

I've never had body parts that disobeyed me so much.

Two so doubly as bad. 

And they wait and hone and search and whine

for you. 

your breath...

your tone. 

They're wasting their time. 

yes yes yes. 

...I know.

They're stupid, and dumb and ridiculously patient.

And to ease the pain and lighten things up...I suggest they lend themselves to some music.

But who would've thought that my own very ears, 

don't even listen to me these days.

No loyalty. No beautiful sounds. So ignorant.

Even after all these years. 

They wait for you. 

They cry for you.

You're all they seem to want.

They play tricks on me, and toy with me.

and when I get so mad...they say "it's all his fault"

I've got to live with these two. 

Is a lifetime of listening what I'm in for?

It's not fair, I cant take their diligence to hear your speech.

...I can't take it anymore. 

Give them some words. 

I'm asking.

My voice is demanding you.

So I can believe...

more is meant than meets the ear.

even though my mind knows...

That's so not fucking true.