Posts Tagged ‘moving on’


Posted: March 9, 2016 in Poetry
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Dear Diary,
Let’s call my heart a progressive patriot,
It has finally caught on!
Or has it Diary?

Its cheerful wink and confident gait excites my usually dreary soul,
Its beat is inches steadier,
The pulse is far from restless,
And the warm blood sings in my narrow veins;
It HAS caught on Diary.
Why does it still write him unfinished letters that his dark eyes that are like chunks of frosted ice will never read?
Why does my patriotic heart still forcefully exchange e-mails with my rebellious brain forcing us to remember that he liked his coffee black and lukewarm?
I had hoped that we had forgotten that he preferred his white Napoleon T-shirt to his bottle green hoodie,

Diary, I’m terrified that my heart still remembers our first kiss,
Our first quarrel, then several more.
My heart is supposed to have got wind that like the proverbial mysterious ghost, it is unseen.
Unnoticed by his dark eyes.
But in its usual fashion, it will defend itself and declare haughtily that it is part progressive and part traitorous.

But still Diary, I swear- I PROMISE that it has caught on!
It’s simpler.
It’s easier to believe.
Someday, it will not remember his blank stare,
His neat handwriting,
Or his penchant for frigid weather.
Presently Diary, my heart has slipped off from my chest, it is strictly perverted and needs psychiatric care.




Posted: April 23, 2015 in poems, Poetry
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Exactly two minutes ago the clouds had been white and fluffy and he could see heaven,
Presently heaven was littered with angry dark clouds, lethal electricity that flashed every two seconds and rumbling thunder,
And he wondered at the speedy transition,
How was it that white could change so fast to a scary black?
And he raised his eyes to the dark skies and tried unsuccessfully to catch a glimpse of heaven,
A flash of lightening,
A far- away roar of thunder,
And soon, the skies opened up.
The angry clouds squeezed all the water out of their demeanor,
Ice cold drops that would eventually be the cause of several bursting rivers,
Perched on his seat at the window, he wondered again how such little drops could wreak so much havoc,
And two minutes later, he watched in amazement as the skies cleared right before his eyes,
The clouds had squeezed all the blackness out and the fluffy whiteness had returned,
The thunder and lightening had disappeared somewhere behind the distant hills,
A streak of orange and blue and red and yellow and violet was noticeable in the presently clear sky,
And he laughed.
A short mirthless laugh that rung loudly in his empty insides,
The heavens must have pulled a fast one on him.
But, no matter.
He could now see heaven again.