Get this bread. Fill your head.
Love endlessly. Laugh often.
Nail the coffin shut. Strut
your stuff. Call their bluff.
Say anything except “but”.
Find different ways to
fill your cup. Look up to
your friends, not your foes.
Survive the lows and enjoy
the highs. Become surprised.
Live through your own eyes.
Don’t wait until they dry.
It won’t last if you go faster.
Slow down in times of disaster.
No need to talk when you can
listen to the voices you have
been missing. Enjoy this time
as death will, one day, take
both you and me away.
These words aren’t mine. Well, the configuration,
the arrangement, and the manifestation of them
are mine to tell, yell, or sell. The rest falls on me.
I own nothing. I just borrow letters and words
that were said, used, or abused in old worlds.
I rent these words – these phrases: these upper
and lower cases. I use these words. They don’t
go to waste. These words help me save face.
They can tell you things that my mouth won’t.
I will never dishonor these words as they are
sacred to me. They provide light: the insight
that does me right. Like eyes that envision
better days, these sentences help me create
early mornings and dark nights running late.
These words aren’t mine, but I treat them
like they are. They carry me through the day
when I don’t have anything to say. Anyway,
I use these words to tell you to stay true
to yourself and to never forget about things
that will help you through all of the pain.
Don’t hesitate to wait. Good things
come to those who wait. Divine
powers scour at those who rush.
Those who rush can lose touch
of the things that mean the most.
Just wait. You will see a new start.
You will write many more pages,
poems, letters, and texts about,
and to all the people you knew.
Patience is a virtue, so just wait
for tomorrow to come. Just wait
until this day is done because
the best part has yet to come.
You’ve taught me
You’ve been strong.
You’ve been fierce.
You’ve shown me
what it means
to be human:
what it means
what has been
stop the joke;
it’s not funny.
I write to you
in hopes that
you change. I
hope you can
bring me bliss
me through all
of this. That’s
my one wish.
I am part of a tribe that feels alive.
We drink, dance, and indulge.
We talk, laugh, and cry into the night.
We understand how to combat the cold.
Once reunited, I become excited.
This feeling of bliss, I just can’t fight it.
I am one with the group – I am one
letter in this alphabet soup.
When others seem to often debauch,
we turn around and refuse to watch.
Love is our group’s practical practicum;
We receive love, then give away some.
Much like how pandas clench their own,
we seize the night and hold on tight
before we notice the morning’s light.