this is a post about how much i love human beings

you know, the ones that brighten up a space the moment they enter
the ones that tickle you, grab you real tight, squeeze your face
the ones that always look at you when you look at them, and smile
the ones that are so angry they are fuming, smoke coming out of their ears, but they are passionate
the ones that are consistent, and the ones that are so incredibly inconsistent
the ones you can say you love
the ones you can never say you do.

i love human beings.
i don’t often feel this way, but today was a wonderful day,
and not everything was perfect -
but the combination of all those imperfections
was beautiful. 

there are so many poems i have not yet written,
the first pages of novels under my bed.
i see you in my dreams like sunlight,
i don’t remember yesterday
and i don’t know about tomorrow,
but if i had more time
i would write a million poems;
today i love you
today i walked
today was better than yesterday. 

1.8

they say 1.8 people die every second,
which means almost ten million people will die
by the middle of may..

but i am learning to let my worries go,
to welcome death as not an end,
but something that brings more life, so

while almost ten million people will have died,
almost ten million waves will have crashed along these shores,
always kissing the sand -
no matter how many times the ocean leaves,
she returns again.

where there is one hope, there are many.

how poor am i in reality,
if i have incredible friends,
a beautiful partner,
and still some wilderness? 

oh hey march!

i awoke to the snow, the most snow all season. about five inches and still coming down, mm.
two morning classes cancelled, a test cancelled, what a lovely morn!

but also, i dreamt last night about squid and mountains,
and realized this morning how much i want to live where i can see mountains,
their sturdiness and rigidity still there every morning,
perhaps the consistency of a mountain would let me be able to roll like the sea
in inconsistency and the push and pull of awake and dreaming,
and be happy in that. 

sunday mornings

twin beds were always so small, tangled limbs, squeezed up against the wall.
but now every morning, especially sundays, i find myself swimming in a sea of comforters-pillows-teddybearlimbs, tidal waves of sunshine, salt in my hair.
all that’s missing are the sleepy turquoise eyes
of the girl
who always loves me. 

reflections on the 148th day since you left

i will never forget your smile,
the sleepy one, the grumpy one,
the “wow my boyfriend is a lunatic” one
that you get sometimes,
especially when i try to show you just
how much i do love you.
the four in the mornings,
the seven in the evenings,
the “its ten minutes before we have to do this…”
and high fives.
you keep me warm at night.
i will never forget your freckles,
your neck, collarbone, bellybutton.
your skin is beautiful,
the way it turns into waves, ridges -
the lines in your palms are my map,
you will always lead me home.

last monday

the back porch invited me on a morning moment -
i awoke to the tender pull,
wiped the sleep from my brows,
didn’t even lace up my boots.

the desaturated limbs of my backyard neighbors held the night’s snow,
and winter took the smoke in its breeze -
as it drifted through my fingers,
i heard the lazy monday sun begin to roar..

sunday mornings

leave the taste of black orange tea on my tongue,
leave my fingers trailing through pages of notes and works to begin writing,
leave the evening sun at bay for a few more moments,
leave the stillness and the slowness to me, my friends, my neighbors.

i close my eyes on sunday evenings,
blink,
and then it is thursday morning.

time goes so quickly,
i reckon it is a good sign -
the sun doesn’t need to wait for me,
and the night does not need to ring the doorbell.

like a friend grown comfortable enough to walk right in,
time has enveloped me with her lanky arms
and sweet breath.

it is not every day

that one can say,
“hey. i got a little bit older today.”

it is not every day
that one sinks and swells with the motions of
“perhaps i will not be here next year”
“perhaps they will not be here next year”
to ricochet off beliefs of
“there never is an end”
only to conclude with
”it only matters that you tried.” 

it is not a sad tone that rings or a melancholy song that plays on days like this -
at the end of the day, there only is what there is,
and the potential of what could be. 

scratching my itches, itching my scratches

sometimes, in the early autumn sun, i can feel the peace of the earth wash over me. each footstep crunching leaves to combat the sound of construction workers, each breath crisp as if it may just snow.

lately, i’ve been scratching my itches, but also itching my scratches. i really enjoy that phrase i picked up from a long term traveler wild guy, a while ago..

there is so much good, and i feel such a relief with this october.
but i am also at a constant loss - a push and pull of waiting, jumping, throwing myself forward, falling in love, like leaves. i embrace both, i’m tearing up my back as i wander and wander.

‘the world is absurd, and beautiful, and small’ sings old ani difranco,
and isn’t that the truth. 

why worrying is dumb, pt 1

“worrying is a waste of energy,” says my dad.
“back when i was your age, i don’t think i even knew what the word ‘stress’ meant.
if something inevitable is going to happen, it is going to happen;
worrying is not productive. worrying is taxing and lazy and hesitant and pointless.
if there is something that you need to do, and are worried you cannot, then start doing it. worrying sets you back. worrying is not preventitive nor is it proactive.”
“worrying is a waste of time,” says my dad.

and as i listened, worrying about this and that, i decided for a whole day i would shut down any worries i had,
what if she doesn’t love me when she gets back..
what’s going to happen after college?
what if i can’t get my painting done by wednesday?
what if… what if..?

and in truth? today was one of the most peaceful days i have had in a long time.
instead of worrying, i’ve begun acting, moving forward.
making the most of each day, making the best of it.

worrying is natural, and it happens. i’ve known it to the roots of my bones.

but really, try for one day to shut down all worries. think of all the good outcomes and work towards that. it’s really quite positive, and i’d recommend this to anyone.

i am home,
and not much has changed.
it is quiet, it is simple; my dog pants and my cat yawns,
my mum kisses my cheeks and tells me it will all be okay.

as i fall down on my bed, the rain pattering the windows
my sheets still smell of her from this summer -
i soak it up with every molecule of my skin..
the stillness holds my hands and tells me tomorrow is a new day.