Poem

Crafty Child

Bright-eyed young girl,
Curious and crafty,
Let’s start a project and learn to crochet.

Tiring quickly,
She abandoned the lesson.
She couldn’t see past the first stitch-
Obsessed with chains, with growing taller,
The neverending line of connection
So easily unfurled.

Chains, chains, chains.
Chains everywhere and every day.
Quickly and carefully created by this crafty girl
And unraveled even faster,
The impermanence of childhood
Displayed through her repetitive ritual.

She lost interest as quickly
As any other once-inspired child,
And many years without crocheted chains passed
Before a spark of inspiration woke her from her daze.

Timid hands picked up threadbare yarn, dusted with age.
Fingers moved as if possessed,
Creating chains came so easily
And her inner child was elated by the familiarity
Of her once daily routine.

The desire to unwind, to unfurl
Pulled so strong within her,
But the necessity
To create, to give life, to build something that matters
Overcame all else.

She kept making chains.
She made chains and then kept working.
She kept building on the foundation
To create something strong
Something useful
Something beautiful for herself.
For herself, she kept creating.

Prodigy

Fate took control

A force to be noted

Unfolded from the start

Of an unknown tune-

A pick against taut strings

Rock the house of our future

Transforming into a dance floor,

Den of movement,

For which we travel through

Until the court rules

Whether our lives

Will be forever intertwined.

 

Private Concert

When you see the massive black headphones

Enveloping ears with the booming bass

And powering the soul with a newfound life force,

Imagine the concert taking place

In the venue between

An ever-changing dance floor

With a party that never stops supplying energy.

 

You can see the effect and feel its presence-

The music taking your pain away

Freeing your soul from the pressures of your life

And makes you unstoppable.

You can hear the emotion present in the tremble

Of staccato notes like hiccups before a breakdown.

 

Your judgment is worth nothing

To the power of music held within,

So push it aside

And enjoy your private show

Of an artist getting lost in their work.

 

On My Mind

Midnight thoughts

Intrude on seductive sleep

And push it away,

Pulling my mind

Into a late night tango

Of past moments and parallels.

This exhausting dance,

My body moving to the tempo,

Keeps moving to the music

Until my legs can’t keep up.

These thoughts,

These nights,

These unforgettable moments

Make for mental messes

To be ignored- an insomniac’s gift-

Until the next late night

Where my mind won’t stop dancing

To the beats of the past.

Where We Came From

Let’s reminisce

About the days

When we were old enough

To know better

But young enough

Not to care.

When we spent

Our hard earned money

On temporary satisfaction

Gone as soon

As they’d been obtained.

Liquid courage

To get us through

The days to come-

And the only things

We have to show

For our mistakes

Are the friendships

That made us stronger

And the lessons

We’ll never forget.

 

Extraordinary You

You are more
Than the sum
Of your lessons
Since the beginning of your time,
Stepping stones that lead
To potential
Forks, pitfalls, and hills
On this journey of life.

You are more
Than the difference
Of past and future colliding
The Impossible distance
From where you’ve been
And the peaks you’ve conquered
To where you’ll go
Speeding ahead into the unknown.

You are more
Than the quotient
Of your loved ones
Provided by a lottery
Good or bad
And the ones you choose
To reveal yourself to
Based on circumstance.

You are more
Than the product
Of society and individuality,
Pressure and instinct,
Colluding with each other
In public and in private
To create a version of yourself
For your success.

You are more
Than a complex equation
Of contradictories
That takes time and patience
For a solution.

You are more.
You are so much more.

Work in Progress

Vivid white paper

Stands out against dark lines

Waiting to be written upon.

Words may come

Words may be erased

But thoughts are never ending.

This time,

Write in pen

To immortalize your intentions.

Take action to show improvement-

As all living things

Are a work in progress.

Fighting For Freedom

Age-old stories of coming to America

With nothing but minuscule amounts of money

To determine worth

And sell your soul.

How can you free yourself

From societal binds and pressures

Without first succumbing to them?

Monopolize your time

Build properties on your day to day life

And watch them come tumbling down

With every step forward that you make.

Has the patriarchy crushed you?

What about all the world’s woes?

When are we free

If we have done nothing to fight?

Lace your shoes tight

And fight with your sole-

Getting closer to your goal

Step by step.

 

Finding Myself

Exhausted with potential interests

I bury myself deep

Layers upon layers of comfort

Holding me back from exploring.

A fire burns within me

But my cold emotions seek solace.

Envy’s seeds are planted within,

A hint that spring is coming.

How do I plant seeds of hope instead?

I want to change along with the seasons

But what can I do

To break free from old habits

To explore new possibilities

And to find myself whole?