Status of Humanity

Status of Humanity

be diminished by

Past questioned, Look, Voice-

and- Expression- thereby-

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Voice and Pen

A Voice is the thing to use-

without Pen at hand.

A Voice will raise the Truth,

a Pen will make It grand.

Once

Once I cried from my powder blue room

my wails rising from my crib

like awful birds- beaks targeting ears

at which to peck.

 

Once I reached inside myself

and found the nerve to kick off the training wheels

and form my own path, unencumbered.

 

Once I found myself in a four square court

and the ball bounced between me

and people who introduced themselves

as they held that yellow rubber sphere.

 

Once I looked at the monochrome clock

that crouched, always in the same place,

on the mocha-brown walls of a building

that always smelled of new shoes and Lysol.

 

Once I found myself in a room-

painted a darker blue, the same

room where that doll-sized impression of myself

used its voice to rouse people from slumber.

Now I can use my voice to do the same,

but in spite of everything,

I take my own initiative

and set forth, out of the crib, onto the street, into the halls

on my own.

Long Time, No See. Short Time, No Say.

Because our two lives

are of different orbits.

 

I’d be lying if I didn’t say

I wanted to see you again.

Sometimes concealing the truth

is as bad as lying.

 

But if I could be anywhere,

I’d be in London,

or Paris. Alone.

 

I’ll have to pay off student loans

before I can afford a plane ticket

to Europe. I don’t think I’d say

goodbye to you before I’d leave.

 

Maybe I’d leave you my orange sweatshirt,

just because you won’t be able to wear it.

 

Maybe I’d leave you with the book

I made out of every poem

I’ve written about you.

 

Maybe I’d try to meet you beforehand,

and leave you with a word spoken out loud,

because you may not miss the sound of my voice,

or you may not remember it- I don’t

remember yours. And that scares me.

 

So I’ll leave you with a word,

if you’ll just speak my name.

Intonation of the Wind

The Intonation- of the Wind-

scraped against my Ear-

but what Fortune that it was

the Last thing I would Hear-

Voice of the Universe

And the Wind Howls out in anger,

such Feelings I repressed,

but the Universe- it Knows me-

and Wants to be noticed.

“I believe the universe wants to be noticed.” -from The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green

And So

And so I have to put aside

what fantasies I had.

And so I must try to silence the voice

in me that says “I’m yours.”

And so I must try to look at you

without blushing.

I must try to fight the urge to hold your hand,

to fawn over your smile,

to talk to you

simply because I like the way you talk.

I feel sad,

though I shouldn’t.

I haven’t lost anything,

not really.

I’ve gained a friend.

That’s something.

So,

I’m alright.