Who are your poems about?
Which poem are you referencing?
You paint my skies.
They say, that the sun sets best in Arizona.
The only reason I believed them
was because the first time we met
you leaned in close, crooked smile and all
pointed to the horizon ablaze
“I painted that for you.”
Since, I have documented the sunset
more times than the people who count calories-
count their calories.
I’ve downloaded it’s image on my retinas,
so even in the pangs of night
I know it’s warmth.
Through my research, I have noted:
That everything is more beautiful when it burns.
That the sparks of a first kiss will be forever envious
of the pulsating rays of the sun.
And that love isn’t beautiful until it is set on fire.
You taught me that.
We spent our time getting lost in each others horizons.
Staying up late, chain smoking and
getting drunk on Walt Whitman
until morning dripped from the skyline.
And like the rainbow that serves as
a reminder of God’s mercy,
the sunset is a reminder of yours.
You just couldn’t let me burn any longer.
#end of 2012
You know it’s nearly Christmas when the man in red makes his appearance on national TV.
It’s time for houses with standing room only, because love
has finally found it’s way in.
The holidays are coming.
After casting out your worries
I hope you find you’re a little closer
to where you hoped you’d be.
We are all walking into a new year.
With new scars,
but thankful that we are still here.
For all that was loved and lost this year,
for all the empty promises and nights spent alone.
we are all homeward bound.
Bound to find a place we have always belonged.
Between home-made hugs and lights hung
mostly out of obligation— home is where you find yourself Christmas morning.
Home is what you feel when everyone stops opening presents
and just listens.
For all the times we’ve been over-worked, under-paid, and definitely under appreciated.
For all the cold coffee, late nights and almost-missed college application deadlines
I, as well as you, have made it through to another Christmas.
When cards are sent to faces you can’t forget.
When leftovers are the only things being fought over.
And when you can’t help but see pieces of Heaven, everywhere.
Like in the smile of a man who has finally found hope.
In the tears of a family, welcoming children back home.
And in the little things:
the smell of hot chocolate
and those mini-marshmallows.
In having a real, live Christmas tree.
In wrapping people decorated with what is supposed to be snow, but
we I can’t necessarily be sure because we I live in Tucson.
Lets remember last years resolution we gave up on in January,
our birthday wishes, and all the promises we’ve made to ourselves this year.
Maybe this will be the year
we worry a little less,
and care a little more.
Maybe we’ll be more aware,
and see pieces of Heaven
And I hope it all goes well for you.
I hope this year you realize that these holidays don’t matter,
but family does.
I hope kindness trips off the tip of your tongue.
I hope this is the year you fall in love.
And in the weeks to come, all you here is “I hope we stay in touch.”
I hope this is year you begin to believe in yourself.
I hope this year,
you see pieces of Heaven everywhere.
that it shouldn’t take Christmas
to show us how the world could truly change.