Poetry 21 - Broken Mirrors

It sat in front of me,

still and blueish.

Inconsistently colored,
smooth texture.
Hands like paper-thin, living leaves
of northern grass.

The lenses were covered,
but lifted, there was a reflection –
I digress, reflect –
Reflection.

I wish I could wake this corpse,
so it would look at me.
My favorite thing about eyes
is that they double as mirrors.

Poetry 20 - 8 Reasons Why It's OK to Lie

Ten Reasons Why It’s OK to Lie:

Eight, because harmless impulses could be humorous.
Seven, because the truth is boring.
Six, “truth resists simplicity,” and I can’t clear up the grey.
Five, your parents are on their way home and the party isn’t quite finished.
Four, you can’t run out of lies, but you can run out of truth.
Two, because you skipped number three.
One, because you’re a writer and that’s how you make your living.

Poetry 19 - Cosmic Paradise

The pale skin of a tanned girl,
which I touch,
which my fingers glide around,
like I am sculpting a recreation of her beauty.

Blue eyes may match the moon,
but for brown eyes,
where have the compliments gone?
Dare I tell her that instead
her irises match my lungs?

Whatever the case,
I must bask in her warmth.

Because
in this room,
I found cosmic paradise,
a heavenly escape
with heavenly standards,
a chaotic representation of grace.

In this room,
she holds me like she walks through air,
like she is my tightrope savior,
speeding on thin ice above the world.
And I am the same to her.

Poetry 18 - Internet in Person (When the Internet Closes at 12:00AM)

When the Internet Closes at 12:00AM (Internet in Person)

Work to do, Reddit to scroll,
and the time is dwindling
like snow under salt.

The Midnight Community Library opens,
as their browsers close.
The last minute workers and others alike
fly into the building.
They are burning and the library is a waterfall
of knowledge and connection and business and recreation.

The printers’ noise matches that
of the youth music room.

The quiet consolation chamber:
the sad part of Tumblr,
crammed into one room filled
with crying teenagers
and
weeping elders.

So much humanity,
humanity, humanity, humanity.
Communion,
squashed into one building.

This is
the internet in person.

Poetry 17 - Academic Achilles

My academic
Achilles bothers me and
also my GPA.

Poetry 16 - Half(ish) Shakespeare

In the layers of
haikus unfinished,
and between the lines
of poetic lies
is where I reside.

Tampering with rules -
and making my own
and making lame jokes
and glibly dancing -
syllabically
tampering with rules.

Cut Shakespeare in half,
toss out the rhyme scheme,
the historical,
wordy pertinence,
and you will get me.

Oh, yea, also add
poor punctuation.

Poetry 15 - Excuses

My grades are lower
than a redneck's IQ, and
please pardon fatigue.