found poem 2

down to the wire
if this is what it takes
to take me even higher
then i'll come through
like i do
when the world keeps
testing me
testing me
testing me

it's sad that this is the only way we communicate what we're feeling

broken this
broken that
broken promises
broken hearts
broken bones

brake...

i'm beginning to think "broken"
is the only word she knows of
well i've got new for her
everything is broken
or has been broken
at some point in time
yes, everything has been broken

things are supposed to break
that's how the pieces get put back together
to make something better
that's how things evolve

see, she forgets
that nothing and no one is perfect
and i think she thinks she's supposed to be

if she were perfect,
i would not love her
no one loves to be around someone that doesn't break
because then they would never grow
and i like a person who can grow

and, you see, she forgets also
that she grows
everyday, she grows
i miss being a part of that growth
i miss seeing her grow
i hope she is flourishing

because i'd like to see how much taller she stands
in the end of this
and maybe she'll see
that even though i'm four foot ten
we can stand tall
together

you see, i don't want her to give up
i don't want her to give up
i don't want her to give up
on us
but i think she is
and every day i don't talk to her
i feel more and more like she's slipping away
like she is forgetting
that what we have
is so much more
than skin
and blood
and heart
and body
no, what we have cannot be contained
cannot be constrained
by these insignificant human entities

what we have is soul
and a soul cannot be contained by anything
but she is trying, i think
she is trying to contain the soul we share
because she is afraid
afraid of hurting me
afraid of hurting her
afraid of a lot of things
so she is enclosing

this isn't something that can be contained.

please don't forget this while you're waiting for the wash cycle to end

i would hate to be my clothes
spinning, spinning
twisting
tumbling
spinning
drowning

i would regurgitate if clothes could

i would hate to be my clothes
but some days
i feel like i am
some days
i feel like life is drowning me
and spinning me so fast that there is no way out
no way to stop its centripetal force
no way to slow things down and do them my way

so many things i would have done different
so many more times i would have said
i love you
so many more moments i would have taken the opportunity
to let you know
that you are the only one
that you are beautiful
that you are no monster
no
you're not
so stop telling yourself that

we are my clothes, whether we like it or not
we are spinning and twisting in the washing machine
we are drowning and tumbling and things are out of control
we are purging and processing 
but every wash cycle must come to an end
and baby,
together in the end 
we will be clean

please, baby

most hours
i don't think of you
i try real hard not to
keep myself busy
surround myself around people
it helps

but there are moments
where i have no choice
but to be alone
where i think of you
long for you

the memories flooding my synapses
and i get that rush
i felt the first time we kissed
the first time you touched me as more than just a friend
more than just a lover
but someone whom you've fallen in love

and i can feel that toe curling
back arching
nail digging
screaming in pleasure feeling
i saw so many more of those in our future
and i wish we had more in our past

but now they are just in my dreams
and they taunt me
i miss you
i want you
i love you
i am in love with you

and if you do come back to me in the end
i promise
this love will be forever

and if you don't come back to me in the end
i promise
this love will be forever

i will never forget.
i will never stop.
don't you either.

lies, lies, lies

by now, i should know
how to pick up the broken pieces
and move on

this is the third time
and they say, third time's a charm
well whoever said that lied

love me right

i have a tendancy
of picking the wrong ones
the wrong one

i want to pick right

women in iran?

there are no women in iran
they have died
the men have killed them
for their beauty
is too dangerous

"too beautiful, you are
i cannot control myself
and i must have control

men must have control


you make me weak
and i cannot be weak
so i must kill you"

men
men, they are weak
men want control and power
but they are too weak
to hold the burden of responsibility
how can men control others when they cannot control themselves
men only know kill

"kill, kill!
i kill you with this hijab
strangle you neck
sew shut your mouth 
martyr your face
but leave your eyes open
to see the injustice

look what you've made me do
you beautiful woman"

in the mind of a young adult reading a self-help book

self-help
self confidence

why do they call it self-help when you're getting it from a book?
oh right, the book is what gets you to help yourself

i have to remind myself of that sometimes
but the book works
it's just really hard
to learn how to be dependent on myself
instead of others

i have to keep telling myself
i will not find happiness in others
i will not rely on others for happiness
for success
i must rely on myself
i must be positive
think positive
and the self confidence will come. 

i repeat these affirmations day to day
hour to hour
because i must change the way i think
and, in turn, change what i believe
to obtain the happiness i deserve
and to believe that i deserve it

i deserve happiness

i will have happiness

are you happy?

found poem

i have come
to watch the bodies burn
i meet my guide
he shoos away beggars
and children selling shells
that hold candles and marigolds
an offering for Mother Ganga

the murky river holds a thousand such lights
stars floating in dawn waters
real stars hidden
by a tent of clouds

from summer to autumn

it is a peculiar thing
the digression from summer into autumn

where i come from there are no leaves turning
from global greens to sunsety oranges,
golden yellows,
and firey reds

but the humid rains slowly invade
to turn our global greens greener
and there is a shift in the tides
the swells
the rip curls
from one coast to the next
the season of pipeline and sunset will soon be upon us

and the days, there are less of them
not that there aren't three hundred and sixty-five anymore
but they are shorter
just a few days ago
the summer heat was was inculcating
the condensation on my body
for up to sixteen hours a day
but the days have faded
it is the time when darkness will dominate the hours

i wish i could remember the last day of summer
but that last day comes and goes
and doesn't even say goodbye
it leaves me with the sticky beads between my breasts
and clinging on the cliff of my upper lip
i wash those salty summer diamonds away
with the last shower of the season

which leaves me denewed
with a feeling of change
but not necessarily the good kind
it's a feeling of sad endings
of the depression into change
change you're not ready to embrace
the feeling of emptied
but full
of memory
and nostalgia
the desire to return

to the golden days of summer

bronze bodies

sparkling sands


i will sit silently
watching the autumn rain drip
down my window pain
and await your return

misery

i see her through the lcd screen
and she looks miserable
miserable to be back in the town
where mac and the very laptops
that hold us together
got its start

she gives me that smile
the one that's half cheesy to make me laugh
and full desperate
trying to convince me that she's okay
in this place
that reminds her of people in the world she must tolerate
but shouldn't have to

no one understands
how this place breaks her down
how it makes her feel less than
it breaks her
to be here
but she stays because she has to
because it will make her stronger
things that i do not understand
but she tries to tell me everyday

tell me that it would be too easy to stay home
that she needs to be away
even though she misses

the chill from the first embrace
with the Sandy water

the fried panko and red sauce
that envelops tyson chicken
at a mom and pop shop turned local franchise

the tall girl with a name meaning memory
the kind that hits you so hard
you feel it in your na'au

and the man who has loved her
since she was born
for everything she is
she wants to be just like him

she misses all this and more
but she has to leave
because she has to experience misery
to understand
what happiness feels like

privileged

a co-worker wheeled a deal with a tourist family
in a surf shop we dare to call "local"
it isn't local when tourist demographics on our computers are rising
and the local demographics are dwindling
locals don't have money to pay inflated prices
for goods we make better use of than any tourist

this family had a son deciding whether to rock
von zippers or oakley's
and after about 10 minutes of trying on the two
he remembered that he didn't have to decide between the two
it must be nice to suddenly remember
that money isn't an issue
and only the lack of heart is
but you can't know you lack heart
when you don't have a brain to tell you in the first place

all you need to do is boss around the sales associate
demanding another hard case for you oakley's
because god forbid that they get smashed in your luggage
on the way back to your beautiful estate in LA
complete with a pool
mexican grounds keepers
and pristine white walls

colonizer

so tell me,
how does it feel to be on the top
of someone elses world?
how nice does it feel to have someone care
more about you than they do themselves?
how does it feel to have the power
to sway someone your way
to convince them to give in
to your every whim
it makes you feel good, doesn't it?
and the best part is, you don't even realize it
and don't try to tell me you realize
and it makes you feel bad
because really
you don't and it doesn't

and you'll never understand
because you'll never know
what feels like to be me on the bottom of your world