I did not write this:

Broken Poet

Remember, i was a broken poet
holding on to the drama of life in the doldrums
you were a strong lover
in both heart and muscle
you could have been my mother
for all those tears you caught

Remember, i was a fucked up writer
more depressed than inspired
you were sick and tired 
of all that i cried 
and our lion fire
musta surely suffered from the rain


Tanya Davis 2008

a small poem

you are playdoh, smooshed into the carpet of my heart 

a wine stain on my couch

i'll pretend I tried to scrub out 

tiny moments

why do tiny moments haunt us
more than speeches
sand paper fingertips, on my forehead in the dark
cranberries tainted with second-hand smoke

i'm choking on milk
it spills all over your mom's spaghetti
from laughter
we eat it any ways

and why do you haunt me
you were a tiny moment in this life
a friend
lingering in my mind like a lover, abandoned

your penmanship
explosive on my closet walls
and everyone we'd meet
would swear that we were sisters

a distant muse of distant art,
your tiny moments
close to my heart

small late night poem

nothing better than waking up dehydrated,
feeling around on the bedside table
and finding a cup
half full
but
what if
that cup were half empty?
sitting there on the bedside table,
and when you woke up so parched, it just wasn't enough?

Happy Hanukkah

(Hanukkah means more to the non-Jewish when their in love with a Hebrew soul)

Called to tell her "Happy Hanukkah."
she slurred back to me,
"Oh is it? Well thank you for giving me a reason to be drunk"

Leonard Cohen "Old Ideas", Toronto, Ontario

        Tonight could not have been more perfect. Leonard's voice has only grown more golden with age and I am truly blessed to have witnessed the magic in that concert hall...his knees buckling-the passion still present in his eyes now drooping, mostly hidden by his infamous hat. My beautiful mother to my right, smiling and clapping, silently enjoying. From my eyes tears were streaming, my heart heavy with meer satisfaction. The swaying bodies of the elderly-their fingers intertwined with their loved one's. I am but a young fan, hopelessly devoted, while they are likely- life long lovers,saying goodbye to the waltzes once shared to his records. Four hours I'd been longing for, I can not ask for anymore-just memories of melodies upon that stage. Proof that beauty comes with age.

"Old Ideas"

At last! Tomorrow is the day I've been waiting so very patiently for...Leonard Cohen's "Old Ideas" performance in Toronto at the Air Canada Center. My grandma managed to score me some beautiful seats and I will be attending with my mother-escorted by my father:) I'm not sure if my heart is completely prepared for what is going to happen to it tomorrow night. The reviews have been absolutely phenomenal so far...three hours of glorious music with such a legendary man. The tears will be flowing...this I can promise you.

Greetings from our Home to Yours

Friends

"But I want to surround myself with crooked views and soft ground, to lay my head without making a sound that would break ear drums and pull away from the crowd" - Church, a flu season

http://gotochurch.bandcamp.com/

a small poem

you are
on a city bus
trying to pick up a quarter
trimmed your nails last night
why did you do that
a minute has passed
you leave the quarter
for someone else

Name Totem

            I have been practicing a guided meditation in search of my name totem (pagan) for the past couple days...the meditation leads you through the dark trunk of a tree, exploring the inner veins and arteries of the trees's body. I was lead out through a tunnel into a meadow where I sat for a while on a rock that had been carved into a chair. I sat there as the wind and the water whispered my name, releasing powerful energies. In the past I have heard my name shouted, spoken in anger, in love, in desperation...but now it was if I was hearing my name for the first time, giving it a whole new meaning. After sitting in concentration for several minutes, I explored the land, making note of physical details and waiting for my animal totem to become apparent to me. I heard my name spoken  in a strong whisper coming out of tall array of pine trees-when out of the forest came a moose, strong and graceful. I looked at it for only a moment, and then it was gone. After spending a few more moments concentrating on the moose, trying to bring the image back to me in the hope of asking it a few questions it did not return. Until I got up from the stone-chair, making my way back to the opening in the tree to return back to reality. In the entrance to the tunnel once again was the moose. I believe that this confirms the moose is my animal totem, since I saw it twice, and there were no other animals present in the meadow as far as I was aware.

          After awakening from the meditation, I was curious as to what it meant to have a moose as an animal totem so I did some research online. This is what I came across, and found very accurate and empowering. I have numbered the phrases in the explanation that I found exceptionally accurate when referring to my personal self and my interpretation can be found below.

Giant dweller of forest and marsh-land, I face a time of uncertainty. Fill me with your confidence, your wisdom. Teach me when to speak and when to be silent. Help me find a point of balance and harmony That success may be mine in honor.

Self-Esteem, 1) Primal Feminine Energies Moose is one of the most ancient of the power totems.    A Moose totem gives you sacred and unique energy.  With a Moose totem you will be full of 2)contradictions.  3)Awkward yet graceful.  Large yet able to move swiftly and silently.  Moose people usually have excellent depth perception.    Moose is also associated with the maternal forces of the world, the primal feminine energies.  This can be awaken through 4)water or the sea, the womb of life.  Mediate using the sounds of water or ocean.  5)Autumn is the power time of the Moose.  People with a Moose totem instinctively know balance: 6)when to use gentleness, when to use strength.  They know what to say, when to say it and to whom.  Moose people are usually 7)wise beyond their years. _____________

Interpretation:
1) I have always had primal feminine energies, attracted to the beating hearts of women, fulfilled by the image of a pregnant woman or the innocence and naivety of a young girl.

2)Often accused of hypocrisy, my opinions often contradict my actions- I have always been an extremist...and hard to pin in general due to my flaky opinions and ever-changing interests

3)Self explanatory if you've ever encountered me in day-to-day life.

4) The animal totem guided mediation focuses on the person's name..my name is Morgan and the meaning of my name is as follows:
-Bright sea, dwells near the sea (Celtic)
-Fighter of the sea (Irish)
-Lives by the water( Shakespearean, Welsh)

5) I am a Libra, born on October 2nd- in the fall, I am at my strongest and most confident self during the autumn months. (not to mention I look good in fall colours and layers)

6) I pride myself on good judgment- the ability to handle most situations in ethical ways-defending myself when necessary.

7)I have a wide array of life-experience for a 19 year old...I have learned a lot of lessons through my own mistakes and successes, as well as those of my loved ones. I retain advice and learn from everything that touches me.

             This is just my personal interpretation of the moose as my animal totem. I found it exceptionally interesting and would recommend this meditation to anyone that is even remotely interested in the concept. It really opens up your mind to spiritual possibilities and if anything a better understanding of your self...can't really go wrong:)

Morgan

Meditation

Find myself addicted to meditation...I have downloaded several deep meditations and will be experimenting with different ones over the next couple weeks. The list is as follows:

-Native American Flute and Shamanic Drumming (unguided meditation)
-Discover your Spirit Guide (shamanic journey)
-Deep Relaxation (shamanic drumming, unguided meditation)
-Fulfill Your Heart's Desires (guided meditation)
-Cosmic Love (guided meditation)
-Create your dream life (hypnosis)
-Secret Attractions (guided meditation)
-Discover your name totem ( pagan, guided meditation)
-Connect with your Guardian Angel ( guided mediation)


So far I have dipped into the first two on the list...and am planning on spending more time with them this week. I have found the shamanic drumming exceptionally powerful and have been doing some research on shamanic journeys for a literature presentation tomorrow. I need to strengthen my ability to deeply concentrate in order to get as much as possible from my mediation. After a few sessions of "Discovering my Spirit Guide" I was able to make out what he looked like physically, but still felt like I was merely having a conversation with myself. After doing some research I understand this is normal, the phenomenon of feeling like you are "making up" a journey. However I am told this is not a negative thing but a positive- which will ultimately lead to a deeper understanding and more successful meditation.

I will be keeping my readers posted as a continue on this journey and would love to hear feedback and maybe even shared experiences regarding meditations. Suggestions for other meditations are highly welcome so please share!

gripping

torturous tales are told as I sleep:
you face the back of the couch
and it's clear you are only half there
all my mind will give me is your
hair through my fingertips
freckles
a whisper
shouting words I hate to hear
but it's barely a nightmare
you're barely there
but i'm still gripping

Two Broke Girls Costume

My friend Lynsey and I on Halloween dressed as Max and Caroline from Two Broke Girls.
She made the costumes:
-Dress (H&M, 14.95)
-Aprons (Table cloth)
-Jewellery(Value Village)
-Lipstick (Cover Girl)

Wednesday and Raven

a quiet rant ( I lied, I am vocalizing the ups and downs)

You apologize for speaking in your native language but I wish you'd never stop
that Hebrew rolling off your tongue, it makes me dizzy with desire-overwhelmed and alive
as you gossip and clarify translations, emotions, vibrations
I pick up your accent accidentally-in a silent attempt to adopt the adorable nature of broken-English
you accuse me of "smiling hard" and I blush as you rush to correct the mistake of your flattery
you know that it hurts me this back and forth bribery to stay and to leave
and you love it
you'd rather I didn't
naive and at ease
second best as I rest
my head down on your pillow I hold in my pee, so I don't let you free

I'm happy because I am stupid

a small poem

Now I know her last name
I am in this far too deep- I know
when she wants a cigarette-I know
where she goes to sleep

a small poem

Drunk breath on my neck
in my series of nightmares
I fear they transfer
from my body to hers

I did not write this:

One of my favourite poems by Tanya Davis...heart-breakingly relevant

Ravish your lover while you still love her
"(this poem is) to my lovers who were once the suns in my skies: i am sorry that i never ravished you enough and that there is nothing to be done about the passing of time"

remember your lovers
but, especially, don't forget them, while they are in your bedroom
with their hair dishevelled and their clothes strewn
make sure you notice them as they stand before you
as there they lie
tell them that you're touched a thousand times
of every inch take a picture with your unabashed eye
because this will change, as pictures fade, so love does die

smell your lovers, their wide open skin
like bare shoulders, before toast, in the morning
pheremones will be what you don't know you miss
when you're standing beside x's
feeling suddenly nostalgic
could be soap, could be freshly-washed clothes
most likely its the mix of hidden chemicals
the silent scent
that perfumers will never get
but you will remember it
long after love goes

hold your lovers close
as you are drifting off, sharing oxygen and oxytocin both
memorize the napes of their necks, the crooks of their wrists, the way their breathing rises and falls
knees get cuddled only in one kind of spot
and they will miss this once the spoon is gone
like you will miss the puzzle when you don't get to be a part
and, so, while you are
with your limbs entangled in ways that warm your heart
remember to notice it
so that the last night doesn't go by without you noticing
and suddenly it's over and only in the sunshine do you know these things
while you pine for one more chance to lay with your loved one when night is falling
so, hold your lovers close while you're in their company

this is a plea, mostly for me, so i may remember next time i am a puzzle piece
as well, for the lovers i have held and known
who have been my comforts
and also my abrasions
i have daydreamed about the days when we were first mating
and of the love we made then
like we were scorched earth and it was raining

floating period

in the midst of an emotional experiment
won't be writing during the ups and downs
so not to confuse my readers
might change my mind tomorrow
but sometimes it is best to simply float

I didn't write this

So, anyway, there I wasJust sitting on your porchDrinking in your sweetest declineYour sweetest decline
What's the use in regretsThey're just things we haven't done yet

"Maybe... you'll fall in love with me all over again."
"Hell," I said, "I love you enough right now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes. I want to ruin you."
"Good," I said. "That's what I want too."

~Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

retrospect

yes
the clams were great
but we did not hold hands
on our date
and we sat in your car
heat blaring 'til dawn
but we did not touch
no we did not touch
and these things happen
and these things happen hard

begging

please let me hate you
dominate your heart
with regret and despair
braid your hair so tight
your eyes are open wide
so you can see this
for what it is
and only that

an ode to a phone call

sobbing smiles
deja vu

what can I do?
this is no reward
for caring and laughing
boiling water as I do,
for you.

would things be different
if i kissed you?
forced you to subside
past feelings and live
presently,
finally?

haiku for you

stair-case memories
you escape inside the door
explosive laughter

a small poem

moisturize your elbows dear
and watch the morning news
do not speak a word my dear
endure the midnight blues

for people come
and people go
and from this sadness
you will grow

"It takes courage to enjoy
the hardcore and the gentle"
-Bjork

First five empowering songs in my i-tunes

 1.  212 - Azealia Banks
 2. Take on Me- A-HA
 3. Happiness by the Killowat- Alexisonfire
 4. You're Gonna love again- Avicii
 5. Okay I believe you but my Tommy Gun Don't- Brand New

My Morning Jacket

"Simple little bookworm, buried underneath
Is the sexiest librarian
Take off those glasses 
And let down your hair for me"

a small poem

heart racing beauty;
my distant distraction

painfully shy

Constants

     As mentioned in my previous post I have been struggling with some changes in my life...while adapting to these changes, I haven't been feeling like myself and I haven't been happy. Because of my reaction to this, I feel as though I am resisting the change and ultimately denying growth. I am going to try a couple methods in the next week to see if anything helps these negative feelings I've been having. 

     I am dedicating tonight to "constants"...things that I feel ground me, remind me who I am and make me feel more at home. Despite my extreme feelings I haven't been inspired to write any poetry, so I am writing in journal style for you today as a way to let things out. 

Constants in my life:

1) Tidying my room

        when I tidy my room I come across items that remind me who I am, gifts from close friends, old notes, photographs, favourite books...tonight I came across my "worry dolls" -which are an old comfort for me:

2)Lighting Candles

       Really any candle is comforting but right now I am enjoying the familiarity of my "maple sugar" candle because it reminds me of my old apartment.

3) Spending time with a pet

       My turtle always makes me feel better, and brings me back down to earth if i'm feeling lost- the idea of silent company is a real comfort and something I enjoy as a constant in my life.

4)Beautifying

      When I'm not feeling like myself I find it helps to put on clothes that you feel represent you...a favourite band t-shirt, favourite pair of jeans. Tonight I have my "Magic Sweater" on...which everyone close to me knows is a constant of mine. I also like to spend some time doing my makeup and hair in a way that is familiar to me so that I feel good about myself even if i'm spending the night in.

5)Finally I like to talk to someone I love...as if nothing had changed. It is good to talk about things that are going on presently but when you are going through a big change sometimes it's nice to just talk. Talk about things that you would normally talk about-gossip about people you both know and act as if it hasn't been a while since you've since that person.

So tonight I will be trying all of these strategies...while the rest of the students go to "First Blast" a huge party on campus to kick off the school year. Some would say this is a typical scenario for a recluse, but I really just need tonight to regroup so that I can have a better day tomorrow and hopefully feel better about myself and my surroundings come next week.

Changes

 My room is pink and crowded, my turtle is happier than ever and the ladies just love him.
People have been treating me like gold-letting me drink their beer and showing me where my classes are. I wonder how things are going to pan out but I'm not putting much thought into anything- trying to live in the present. I'm procrastinating on getting my student I.D, gym membership and text books. It will all happen eventually. I slept in and missed my program orientation this morning, instead I watched t.v all morning with the boys ( something that is quite unusual for me but I enjoyed it none the less).

holla if you hear me

Deleting someone off every social media to eliminate the chance of contact/conversation/confrontation-deleting a contact to avoid drunk texts exposing sober feelings. Applauding yourself for your bravery, self respect and independence-"sooo over it" only to find yourself driving by their house 3 times a day to see who's car is in the drive way- a honk and smile, a shout and a finger-stuck straight out the window and high in the air- well how does this show you don't care?

party animal

Dear New Tenant,

In my empty house it smells the same as last october and the floor is sticky with spilt drinks, empty nails distrupt the walls and I'm saying good bye to home all day today and all day tomorrow. I sold my couch for 50 dollars with no regard to memories; conversations and bodies weighing it down, tipping it over. The door doesn't work as well as it once did, a push and pull strategy to lock strangers out and the hole in the screen remains, now blocked by glass restricting air flow to keep animals out. My shampoo and tooth paste lasted my whole lease and now I'm starting new, tossing stale food in black bags where I run them to my old work past midnight -clandestine effect. If I knock on the hard wood under my feet- hollow, for they are leaving too and it's true if we are meant to be together again we will but it still hurts a little knowing we aren't a story apart anymore, I won't be waiting around anymore for foot steps on the stair and balcony visits with boys I grew to adore. But I'll remember fruit kabobs and the roots and urban legends and racooons and cuddling and ignoring and coughing and laughter.

I'll miss the green chair in the laundry room, having to use a wrench to start the dryer and napping while it does it's job.

I'll miss the buzzing of the tattoo machine, the collections of people in my house who wouldn't have been there otherwise-all permanently marked with ink, tainted by the air from my apartment. The late night dancing in the dark and lying to get someone to leave it's really all a blur to me now...from chinese food to strobe lights it just seems right, and I'm sad to let this go.
And when you are sweaty in the night remember it's only an excuse to go outside, breathe that air and hear those noises- listen closely to the voices of the drunk and crazy people on Eramosa hill- begging for rain in the dryest week of summer.
And I don't know you and you don't know me but in a way we are connected-I hope you love apartment D as much as me and I hope you're not too hard on it. It's a sanctuary in many ways: having to take a bath everyday- enjoy it.

Sincerely,
Morgan

6 am

phantom smoke rises
and disperses amongst the glow
of the street lamp
the phantom foot steps hadn't reached
7 minutes later
- maybe they were merely rain drops

my pets

mixed feelings

where is your garden?
I'd like to pick all the flowers
to make you feel empty
for twelve hours
while I tie each stem together
into a blanket over you

Apples

Six fragile cores
resting on her bedside table,
performing the trick of time
before our eyes
growing golder, moments older

flattery

I remember waiting for the shadow
tattooed beneath her eyes
one thousand times
I'd tell her
It was my favourite part of her
and no matter how hard I tried
my iron level was always at par
and my nights-sleep long enough

bleeding

intoxicated by femininity;
my shedding endometrium
has me feeling strange,
I crave-
a baby held close to my heart by pashmina ,
and stare sexually at passer-bys

I bit my lip at a woman unwittingly
and she joined me on the park bench

a small poem

Just a child in a hammock
enveloped in egyptian cotton
trusting the strength of roots running deep
I sleep
and imagine conversations around corners,
the familiar drifting;
impatience and desperation
I can barely see the sunlight
as it lowers in the sky
I am high
and nearly skimming the earth
just a child in a hammock

I could cry for an eternity
for everything I'm missing
in my life--plain site
I'm practically indulging in all my misfortune
love
loss and longing
the future I'm prolonging by
sitting and writing of
almost-moments
and almost-lovers

experience needed

Judgemental Israeli female
sharp, naked eyes
warn and welcome me

I want a knock at my door
around 4
in the morning
I'll be up for water

the washing machine
was the first thing
to raise my heart beat
today
and I feel as if I owe it something
for abruptly changing cycles like that
we fall into pattern without noticing sometimes

I sat down here
because it is chilled
it gives me chills
and the cement is alluring
when paired with lint
and detergent

Please:
turn off these taps
when you are through

nailed to wood
that was the wall
and all
the humans
in this house
sat in this green chair before
I hope.

and there stood his bike
or was it her's?

Shy

her name meant 'gift'
and that she was
a quiet voice on the telephone
blurred out by passing traffic
but beautiful
none the less
her Hebrew tongue
spoke words of sadness
I could not mend easily
and her visa
gave her 2 months
in Toronto

Thunder

Getting soaked sitting by my window sill
I wait
for an invitation down a story
for there are three below me
and we all know the fourth
would be the most dangerous place to sit
if lightning struck
but we spend too much time
waiting by windows
getting soaked
all alone

Sigh

If I were a noise
well I'm sure I'd be a sigh
because sometimes I find
myself releasing like that
involuntarily
exhaling something
and who really knows
what i'm letting go of
those few moments in the day
but that is why
I would for sure
be a sigh

Toby

I don't even know if a photo exists
of which we are in the same frame
and it breaks my heart
to hear your name,
And there are these images
in my mind alone, how long can they last?
I swore
It would be impossible
to forget your smell,
cigarettes and perfume,
your voice on speaker phone,
questioning, worrying
as if I was your own,
and I was.
It's the reason I think I see you
on the sidewalk, passing me
I double take
when my heart skips a beat.
I want to see you again,
but I'm afraid there is no way
my heart is heavy,
with all the words I'd say.

and
why did they get to say good bye?
why did they get to hold my best friends?
While I was a thousand miles away?
I think about you everyday
and all I can do is cry
because
I'm left without a picture of us
just wondering why

a small poem

tea on an empty stomach
1,000 thoughts caress my conscience
toying with my nerves
i'm nauseous
but without the tea,
without my troubled mind,
where would I be?
somewhere else entirely.
but it is clear
that I am here not there

I'll be biting my finger nails
'til the day that I die
and you wanna know why?
because
I've been biting my finger nails
since the day I was born

"Here's what you need to know," he tells you as he places the ornament in your hand. "There are no meetings, no by-laws, and no dues, and if you lose the pin, you get another." Naturally you join. There follows a wicked smile, as if to acknowledge his awareness that this is one of the few instances of human association that makes this easy.

What's good on your soul will be bad on your nerves

Joanna Newsom

I will pack up all my pretty dresses
I will box up my high heel shoes
sparkling ring for every finger,
I will put away and hide from you

Lacey

there are three minutes left of her birthday
and i'd give her the world if she'd take it
keep it in her pocket
her purse, slip it into her bra
for later
when she needs it and I know she needs it
when she's all alone
when she's with 15 people
and feels all alone
she'd have it
all the trees and the swing sets
and the coins and the birds
all the hearts
broken and used
full and loving
each one pumping,
for her
and if I could give her the world in a whisper
I would
and i've tried
when she's sleeping
I can tell from her breathing
she needs it
she needs me
and "I love you" won't cut it
a hand on a forehead, she can't even feel it
asleep in my bed
asleep in his bed
I am miles away and just want to say,
once more:
Happy Birthday

the sacramental feeling of bed in the morning
makes millions quit their day jobs
surely
and it should

a poem by me

There are charades
I can't let go
and even though
it is hate inside
I tried,
to see it through

I went on a walk
with the old me and you

I have a door that doesn't close properly
to remind me
-trust no one

I didn't write this

“I live in the Twentieth Century
and you lie here beside me. You
were unhappy when you fell asleep.
There was nothing I could do about
it. I felt hopeless. Your face
is so beautiful that I cannot stop
to describe it, and there’s nothing
I can do to make you happy while
you sleep.”

bolt, n. and v.:
The noun stays, the verb goes. I feel we all have that potential, to shift our meaning because of the way we’re used.

Closing Time

a not nice poem

Don't ask me what my vice is
I am but a child
and I can't top your impressive disorder
of alcoholism
sorry
I don't care that you have money
buy me a drink
don't linger like you know me
you don't know me
never did
don't compliment my hair
my smile
my attitude
Don't talk about my turtle
you don't know him either
Don't ask me who my friend is
Don't fucking drink and drive
Dr.Pepper helps
but you still look like an idiot
with a stupid tie
don't talk to me
I stayed and danced with you after hours
because I am polite
don't sing to me
don't touch my hands
get a hair cut or grow it out
it's in an awkward stage right now

a poem

I didn't paint last night
like I said I would
I didn't want to go to bed sad
like I knew I would
eventually
because I could paint all night
but morning would come
and I'd have to sleep alone
then too
so I went out dancing
and watched the way the bodies moved
so elegantly
different than mine
I know i'm not a dancer
but I know I am a feeler
I feel the music
and the affect of
too many
double gin and tonics
the energy of everyone in the room
their complications
their simplicities
their trouble minds
and liberties
I feel it all
so it didn't take long
for my heart to feel ok
it didn't take long for me to say
"I love this song"
and I said it 15 times
even if it wasn't true

I was wearing all black
but opted for my humming bird earrings
it's important to bring a part of yourself
out with you
even if it breaks the illusion
I don't know what my illusion is but
it doesn't matter because I changed my mind.
Kate's pissed
but i'm painting
all night long
with my high heels on

"Baseball"

When I was little
I would try and force myself to think of nothing
not the word "nothing" but nothing
and I don't know why but for some reason
I always thought of baseball
and not the sport of baseball
but the word "baseball"
just the word.
to this day when I try to think of nothing
and
it's impossible to avoid that word
"baseball"

Last Night

headlights on the highway
our favourite band is on
and we didn't have the best night,
but this passenger seat feels like home
You let off on the gas "my car died"
and I prayed that it was true
we're a walk away from my place
and I'm already missing you

Urszula

My best friend was scared to tell me she was modelling in Ottawa because a long time ago I mentioned, threateningly, that I wouldn't be her friend if she was a model. I feel horrible and in all honesty this would have stayed true, if she was anyone but herself. But let me tell you she is the most elegant creature I have ever laid my heart on and my eyes welded up with pride when I saw her walk in that long white dress because yes she is beautiful, but she still walks likes Urszula.

a small poem

Walking by Apartment C
I smelt good food
and wanted to knock on the door
ask them what they were cooking
perhaps they would invite me in
for a plate-full of something
but then I remembered things
that convinced me they wouldn't

a poem by me

I practised my penmanship
my whole childhood
every letter of the alphabet
until I got it the way
I thought was right
and I don't mean Standard Canadian Handwriting
either
I'm not sure what I mean
but regardless
it was a wasted of time
I should have been practising
my speaking voice
or smile
like other girls,
No one reads my writing

a poem by me

Inspire me, Insomnia
is what I would have said
years ago
as if lack of sleep was the answer
to these sorts of feelings
Now i've learned to live
consciously
during the day
so the words were there when I got home,
wouldn't need to fight.
I sleep soundly every night.

Poets

Patti had passion
and Leonard had grace
and both Patti
and Leonard
knew their place as poets

Happy Valentine's Day Love Leonard and Joni

I've got a pocket full of lovers
and a bucket full of love

February 13th, 7:25

'twas the night before valentines
and all through your apartment-
the echoes of nobody.
but do not fret,
'twas only the night before valentines

Bad Ass Photography

http://www.facebook.com/pages/SierraRose-Photography/123615691023216

Bon Nuit

fingernails

I got fake nails put on
a couple weeks ago
and they made me feel, girlie
so that's good
I guess you could say, pretty
so that's good
and it's strange how things can do that
I mean,
hands.
Regardless I broke them all off
with my teeth and it hurt
so bad -
Could have paid ten dollars
to get them soaked off nicely
but what's the fun in that?

Now I have raw fingernails, they look disgusting but I'm scared to paint them
plus I don't have any nice colours

a poem by me

I've got all these made up stories
I've been telling made up people
I've got all this built up anger
I've been taking out on no one
but at night I go home
and it's just me there
and you see there
is nothing wrong with that and it sounds really sad
but
it's actually quite nice
(some nights)
It really lets me love me

lottery

i've had some bad luck
lately
lately i've had some bad luck
falling down stairs-concussion,
hit and run in a parking lot,
microwave broke
- I lost the warranty
came home from work
to a break and entry
(too much for me)
so i've got these four leaf clovers
hanging from my ears,
you see,
they won't be coming off
until I win the lottery

there's a lot of things
that draw me to you
general you
not a particular you at all
like hairy arms
on girls
and hairy arms on boys
I couldn't tell you why this is
but it is
and
there's more
like when someone holds the door
for not only me but the three people
in front of me
the four people behind me
and they make it seem like they don't mind
they have time
I like people who have time

Rant

I miss having to prove myself. I miss staying up all night bleeding my heart out to someone i'm just starting to know. I miss the feeling of not holding back...Now I know better not to scare people away, or let them toss me into a pool of similar-to-me depressed low lifes with good intentions and heavy hearts. I miss lying on a couch in someone else's basement being totally innocent but yet still afraid. Afraid of what I know will happen, afraid of what I know won't happen, afraid of a parent's step on the stair, spying on our harmless actions. I miss my heart racing and wanting and needing. I miss passion, WHERE IS MY PASSION? I wanted to leave, I wanted to know things I wanted to feel things and I'm feeling them now. I'm feeling them all but i'm feeling the loss of so many others. I miss trying, I miss being patient and I miss putting effort into my relationships. But I don't miss the hurting, I don't miss the betrayal and I don't miss the confusion. I guess I really don't know what I miss.

crying in a hotel room
at some point
during the night
I looked to her for words
and all she gave me were these:
"I lost faith in you a long time ago Morgs"
(made me feel like dying)

a poem by me

Ignorance
is tiny leaves
burning them
while "saving trees"
but ignorance
is writing this
I'm quite aware
i'm full of shit

Plea

If you want to have a cigarette
on your porch
at night time,
that's fine
but by all means
don't stare at me while I cook spaghetti
in a sun dress
or make toast
in my underwear

biting salt off pretzels
too snowy to step foot outside
and my shoelace broke
on my burgundy boot
and my microwave
blew a fuse
or something
it smells like smoke
and won't turn on
I wish I had a television
I wish I had a heart
If I only had a heart