Beautifully intricate lines of poetry woven together can easily sew themselves into the quiet intimate spaces of my heart.

Boots and Scarf told me fall is really here today.

So I pulled Boots leg by leg over my jeans,
looped scarf loosely around my neck,

and tried to wear a smile to match.

Photo Cred: Lubna A.

4.30.09

My goofy grin of satisfaction seeps out uncontrollably as I’m trying to compose myself in public.
I just left that bookstore with previously enjoyed gems,
Bookshelves perfumed with that wonderful smell of time.
I sat in a lonely chair with its white leather dress torn at the corners and patterned with stains.
I grabbed his book off the shelf again.
I examined the crisp leaves wearing different eyes,
Reading only those pieces monogrammed discreetly with the letters he owns.
His beautiful soul windows of azure held steady in my mind as I indulged myself in his poetry.
I examined treasure after treasure as they were secrets I stole, like a peephole to his soul.
I stared for moments awkwardly long into the glittering contents tainted with sadness, hopelessness, cynicism, and anger, but all beautiful.
My favorite poem is pretty predictably my favorite.
Words paint this beautiful woman, imperfectly perfect.
Each quirky detail scripted.
She laughs and screams with giggles in her hair, and smiles in her curves,
I’m glad to meet her.
The idiosyncrasies he chooses light my smile knowing those are the things I want people to love about me.
He loses hope at the end of that piece,
But I’m not ready to deem my perfect picture as fiction,
just yet.

You never smiled when you saw me coming around the corner.
Because of that I held mine as a secret in my mouth, ready to bubble out like water boiling over.

When I'm alone in public smiling, I'm probably thinking crazy funny thoughts.

Sometimes when I see people on the esclator, I imagine them as plastic penguins on the mechanical ice stairs. They go up and then down the icey slide with their arms to the side. I imagine the people sometimes falling off, the way the penguins would, no injury but their wheels still spinning :)

happy rain

Caught in the warm summer rain,
droplets as big as balloonless hydro torpedos.
As the gushing water falls victim to the thirsty drain,
I hop and skip from awning to awning.
I fain receive every inquisitorial look regarding my mile wide grin,
Why not smile as the pouring water leads mascara to my chin?
The clouds sharing the stage with the joy spreading sun,
it's happy rain! only adding to the warm season's fun.
mothers and daughters hiding in bus shelters disgruntled,
any sign of easy summer attitude ebbs as the water flows.
I so much want to enlighten about the beauty of our situation,
which I'm sure my durable beaming laugh shows.
The days that cannot be predicted or precluded,
should just be positively framed.


Photo: Lubna A.

I was once so sure.

(When I see those numbers count up nested between two smiles I hope it's you...drawing lines of words outlining the shape of who you are. When I get anxious thinking about the moment when I'm introduced to the you filled with months of textual exchanges, I simply recall the beautiful and easy comfort we floated in when we first met. When I become concerned with worldly context and expectations, I imagine how my hand will fit in yours and smile at the the incredible color of your soul.)


_

You think you’re cured, immune, absolutely ready…then they talk back and you’re just a warm puddle of goo, sliding off the edge of dignity.

I exhale in words.

It will be a hybrid of words I’ve already scribbled and new overflowing ones I need a place to store. You may have already explored and weaved through some, but there will be some fresh lines you can sink your teeth into. Either way, I hope you enjoy, although… it’s not really for you.

Photo Cred: Jordan Quinn Photography