vulnerability

Take My Arm

I’m hoping that there never comes a day

We end up forced to go in separate ways

Not long ago, I never would have known
How much you’d mean to me and just how much I’d grow

 

My heart is on my sleeve, please take my arm

In this cold hard world I’ve never felt so warm

And if in time you feel you have to leave

It’s yours to keep cause being close to you is all it needs

 

In spite of battles that you’ve had to face
I found peace in you, retained with grace

And it didn’t take me long realize

That home away from home inside your eyes

 

While what I’ve got to give may not be much
A shoulder, an ear; a gentle touch

I pray that some day you might come to find

A humble hide-away, returned in kind

 

My heart is on my sleeve, please take my arm

In this cold hard world I’ve never felt so warm

And if in time you feel you have to leave

It’s yours to keep cause being close to you is all it needs

 

In this day and age

some might say

it’s a projection

of my objective

 

That can’t be true

cause I never knew

what could be
since you’ve awakened me

 

My heart is on my sleeve, please take my arm

In this cold hard world I’ve never felt so warm

And if in time you feel you have to leave

It’s yours to keep; it’s yours to keep.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I imagine this might be subject to some revision.  I really hope not, though. :)

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Poetic Performance Anxiety

I don't have that knack

The knack for freedom of expression. Something holds me back. 

The possibility of failure and rejection. 

I'll do readings all day long: there I can safely hide behind the mic and the paper. 

But no, not performances because someone may see that this calm and poise is nothing more than vapor.

I'm all smoke and mirrors--an artfully contrived veneer. 

Behind the mask I'm trembling and overwhelmed by fear. 

So part of me is still hiding. Yes. That must be it. 

The artfully concealed self-deprecation and doubt, I can't allow anyone to see it. 

What if I mess up? Or forget my words and freeze?

 What if a knowing eye catches mine, strips me bare with a glance and brings me to my knees?

So I'll take along my armor and pray that enough of me still rises from this damp and sweaty, tightly-clenched page,

Deep breaths, girl, and slow.your.pulse.--there's no escaping now--the MC just called your name and it's time to take the stage.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this in about 30 minutes on 3/21/2017. I have so much respect for artists that can perform their work. I don't have that knack for freedom of expression. Something holds me back. Fear of failure and rejection I suppose. I'll do readings but not performances. Part of me is still hiding. That must be it. Cuz what if I mess up? Or freeze? Or forget? Or catch someone's eye that sees through me. #PoetryPerformanceAnxiety

Open (day 123)

What would you ask for

if you knew the answer was yes?

I’m asking you because I can’t answer,

I can’t tell you

what to feel,

where to hurt me,

the places I have torn before

and so they can so easily break.

 

What would you tell me

if you thought the world was new?

For some reason

I kick myself to melt the fires,

string up my thoughts to bring you closer,

wind up every time we meet again

and the elastic keeps me running for weeks

For some reason

I only love what always dies,

I try to steal what cannot live.

 

What would I ask for

if I lived on long-lost breezes,

the stirring of the wind that could write you bare?

I would rip off the horizon, breathe

I am open here for you,

you are still closed.

How much can I give

to get the key?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 11/30/16

Stirring of the wind

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