Facebook Mini Series, Vol. 1

Yeah, I'm on Facebook, but I don't really *do* Facebook. (I'm a twitter addict.) I'm the kinda person that might update my FB status once a week...maybe. And then I like to be all cryptic and non-specific and junk.

But lately I've been writing these mini-poems for my status updates. They're quite random, but like the rest of my poetry, they're all me, unfiltered. Heres a bunch of my latest. I'll post more when I write more.

I dig them (I may try to expand some of these in the future), but I wanna know what you think. Which one's your favorite?

my hesitation was misinterpreted for resignation

when in fact i was suffering from emotional constipation

communication outlets blocked and backed up

but when they get stacked up too tall

these sentiments fall after all

______________________________

blue notes danced across my eyelids

as they slid into place thru my headphones

they always find me alone

lost in imagination

a singular solitary soulful congregation

______________________________

there's no way of knowing

but I say I'm going all the way

at the end of the day

I'm still standing

still running

still flying

the day I stop moving is the day I start dying

______________________________

my heart bleeds steady

so i keeps the pen ready

ink from my soul's well

is the best way 2 tell

my story:

love, loss, passion and glory

_________________________

wading in the stream of dreams

that meets reality at its seam

fed by the waters of creation

that flow 'cross the riverbed of manifestation

boldly treading on an unknown heading

taking to flight into a fearless night

______________________________

marinating in the juice of inspiration set loose

prepare to feast on my masterpiece

______________________________

Dawn of Inspiration

"Anoche me acosté con mis pensamientos. Ésta mañana me levanté con mis sentimientos." (Last night I lay down with my thoughts. This morning I woke up with my feelings.)

I tweeted this thought a few days ago. I have no idea why I wrote it in Spanish, but I'm glad I did. (Isn't Spanish a beautiful language?) I kept reading it over and over, feeling like there was more to be said. It grew into this little (English) poem.

Dawn of Inspiration

last night

i lay down under the weight of the day

and slept with my thoughts

reluctantly drifting into dreams of deficiency

lit by the flicker of dim resolution

at some point during our slumber

my pensive bedmate disrobed

stripping herself of the heavy burden

of solving riddles and fixing broken solutions

as i dreamed she took my hand

and walked me through a fantastic field of possibility

and her gait took on a more sentimental saunter

unbound by higher reasoning

she pursued higher ways of pleasing me

and this morning

i awoke with fresh feelings

instead those same tired thoughts

passion illuminated my bedroom

urgency pulled back the covers

coaxing me to open my eyes

with determination

and gaze intently upon

the dawn of inspiration

I Want Mine Now

I wrote this poem in 2007, forgot all about it, and just found it randomly. (It happens. Often.) It's in complete first draft form, so it's not the best, but I wanted to share. It's about...holding back, from the perpective of the one who gets less...or something like that. Just read it (please).

...

Also, I don't exactly remember writing this so I can't be sure, but I think the first 2 lines are paraphrased from the movie Love Jones (love that movie). Lemme know what you think!

I Want Mine Now
baby
you ain't gotta save none for later
i want mine now!
you don't have to put me on emotional rations
i just want you to fall into me until you reach
the deepest levels of satisfaction

when i reach out to rub your back
you don't have to recoil from my touch
grab that bottle of oil
and tell me to rub you down as much
as you please

baby
there's no need to hold back cute nicknames
and terms of endearment
no matter how much you tell me you love me
i won't get tired of hearing it
trust
and the lust in your eyes is always a good thing
and a kiss from your lips will always make my heart sing
and i always get butterflies when my cell phone rings
and i hear that ringtone i downloaded just for you

baby, i'm still all about you
but sometimes
i wish you got a little closer
to me

Fragile

I don't pretend that I can speak for all women, but I would imagine that a lot of them will identify with at least some part of this poem. I look forward to your comments on this one...

Fragile

be gentle...

that woman's more fragile than you know

she might walk like she's got a big ego

but sometimes that confidence is borrowed

it might not show but her feelings ebb and flow

and she's under the pressure of heavy cargo

including her fair share of sorrow

but she banishes her weaknesses far below

the surface

and keeps going

see that unshakable woman...

she's more sensitive than you think

her head and her heart aren't always in sync

even small matters can make that tall woman shrink

or push her beyond the brink

of what she can handle

but she pulls it together

that spitfire woman...

she's more weary that she seems

see, it's a tiresome thing to have her dreams

trampled before they can be redeemed

all the while swimming upstream

just to get to stability

look deeper

how hard do you look to try to see her?

how far do you go to try to reach her?

how tight do you squeeze to try to keep her?

that woman carries the burden of creation on her shoulders

sometimes you gotta offer to hold her

you can't afford to forget to console her

yeah, i know...she's strong and agile

but please understand

that woman is FRAGILE

This Heart's Terrain

This Heart's Terrain

pain is this heart's terrain



even as the pleasurable truth sustains me

across the planes of the mundane

the ache of rejection and fear of love feigned

is so deeply engrained

that i have to strain just to abstain

from draining his love of every drop

of sentiment it could potentially obtain



my heart has reason to sing love-filled refrains

with beautiful melodies that neither wax nor wane

because it knows nothing of love lived in vain

but still i remain chained in shackles of self-disdain

as i helplessly watch myself imagining the inhumane

where only fondness reigns



it might be a struggle just to maintain

but i refuse to falter in my fight to reclaim

the gains that i've already obtained



pain might be this heart's familiar terrain

but today i journey across a new plain

Change Happens (apparently)

So, I'm notorious for scribbling random thoughts in random notebooks, forgetting all about them, and rediscovering them way later. That's pretty much the story behind this poem. I know I wrote it 2 yrs ago, because I dated it...but I can't tell you the inspiration behind this one. I don't even remember writing it, but it's in my handwriting, so...(shrug). Let me know what you think.

Change Happens

change...

it's not always a good thing but it happens

to anything that grows

you can't stop it

you can only influence the direction that it goes

ask anyone who knows about civil rights

and the ongoing struggle that turned into a fight

that turned into a movement led by a people

who resisted oppression and demanded freedom

they demanded change

in the face of opposition that demanded more of the same

the people demanded change

and so change came

but change doesn't need the collective voice of a distressed population

change only needs time to affect the present situation

the only uncertainty is the extent of modification

that change brings when it comes

and change is never done

it will simply wax and wane

ebb and flow

shrink and grow

into something new

into something different than what we're used to

sometimes change is called a transition

in leadership change is called succession

a change to written words is called a revision

a turnover in sports indicates a change of possession

call it what you want

growing, learning, moving, aging, rearranging...

it's all changing

as long as time continues to pass

it's foolish to think anything will last

change happens

Complete but Unfinished

So, I jotted this tidbit down about a week ago. It doesn't really feel finished to me, but at the same time I don't know what else I have to say. I was told that these words can stand alone the way they are, so I let them be for now. What say you?

[untitled]

if you've seen him walk

you've seen the footsteps of God

he leaves light in his wake

blessings wherever he trods

filling his conversation

with tokens of wisdom

he's truth on two legs

a foreshadow of what's to come...