Story People

I once read that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand
& the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow.
I wish I had a thousand words for love,
but all that comes to mind
is the way you move against me while you sleep
& there are no words for that.

Brian Andreas, Story People

100th Post & It’s All About Moi!

I know I’ve neglected you, oh WordPress. I am terribly sorry and at a loss for words. I have nothing but piles of excuses from how sickly I’ve been to how much work overload has been dumped on my shoulders. But nonetheless, I am back and have noticed that with the effort I put in this blog and being a newbie, I’ve finally reached my 100th post. Huzzah to moi. So, I have decided, to finally share tidbits of myself to my reader friends. I’m sure you’ve wondered . . . right? Haha.

I am . . .
A woman with many fears
A woman that loves long phone conversations
A woman that is jealous
A woman who acts tough but actually possesses a frail heart
A woman filled with tears and laughs and many emotions
A woman full of regrets
A woman who loves to talk
A woman who is full of sadness thus tries to hide it by laughing and smiling more
A woman who gets hurt from too much affection
A woman that is selfish and a troublemaker
A woman that gets lonely often
A woman that can’t honestly portray how happy she is
A woman that only thinks for herself
A woman that gets caught with every lie
A woman that does not like to be lectured or nagged
A woman that daydreams too much
A woman that craves attention
A woman that does not like to interfere
A woman that likes praise
A woman that can get heartfelt from a simple letter in the post
A woman that wants to be beautiful
A woman that is cold and cruel
A woman that is clumsy
A woman that often trips and gets bruises with also scrapped knees
A woman that is constantly in pain with her body and soul
A woman that never turns back when it’s over
Can you ever like someone like me . . . ?

Thanks for reading that randomness poetry(?) about myself.

P.S. I just got a new twitter that’s connected to this blog, so add me please and I’ll follow back to hear and read more about you too! Follow me @love_oclock :]

Just Friends

I know that I don’t own you,
and perhaps I never will,
so my anger when you’re with her,
I have no right to feel.

I know that you don’t owe me,
and I shouldn’t ask for more;
I shouldn’t feel so let down,
all the times when you don’t call.

What I feel, I shouldn’t show you,
so when you’re around I won’t,
I know I’ve no right to feel it –
but it doesn’t mean I don’t.

Lang Leav

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in)

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

                                            i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

Apologue #34: Something Yours Became Something Mine

I ran across a piece of poetry that caught my attention a few days ago that I would like to share here today. It caught my eye solely because how I was already in tune with the author’s feelings and thus, I was even able to add a little bit of myself at the end. It’s not the best form of poetry that will leave you thinking, but it is the kind of poetry that is simple and direct, and enough for you to feel.

The truth is
I stopped talking to you,
not because I don’t like you anymore
but because I thought I was annoying you.

And I’m just waiting for you
to say that you miss me
because I miss you everyday,
every hour, every minute, every second
and it hurts.

These next two parts are all me. I’m not a poet but just wanted to input a little bit of what I do as I’m waiting.

No matter how many times I look down at my phone
just to see if you called —
No. Even a simple text
but to see nothing makes me lose bits of hope every single day.

I don’t know how and why I keep trying knowing already
that you will never be the one to call me back.
But I keep waiting in hopes that I really had some significance
in your life just as much as you did
to mine.

It’s a frustrating and belittling feeling, I know. We’ve all been here once or twice. I’m currently going through this right now with one of my friends. We don’t have a romantic relationship but the same rules apply where I’m waiting and constantly waiting more for him to call back or even shoot me a simple text, but I get nothing back.

I used to text him first all the time because that’s what we do, we text insanely with each other because talking on the phone is awkward for us. But when he suddenly stopped replying, and I didn’t know the reasons why, it felt just as heartbreaking and undeniably cold as when a lover starts ignoring you.

Mostly the reasons to why I text him so often was because I miss him. He’s my best friend. I haven’t talked to him in months now and we used to talk via text almost every single day. See how significant his presence may be now that he’s not there anymore?

A couple of weeks ago, I finally mustered up the courage and texted him a long message to not understanding why we’ve grown apart and if there was anything that I did wrong, that I apologize for it. I noted that I missed him and that it would be great to talk out whatever is wrong so we can fix this. That he’s family and I don’t want to lose him.

Still nothing. I texted him often because I miss him and think about him all the time. I’m partly waiting to see if he thinks of me and longs for me too but it seems like our friendship wasn’t as strong as I had thought it was. And that truth, is very heart-wrenching.

The Dream

I met her as a blossom on a stem
Before she ever breathed, and in that dream
The mind remembers from a deeper sleep:
Eye learned from eye, cold lip from sensual lip.
My dream divided on a point of fire;
Light hardened on the water where we were;
A bird sang low; the moonlight sifted in;
The water rippled; and she rippled on.

She came toward me in the flowing air,
A shape of change, encircled by its fire.
I watched her there, between me and the moon;
The bushes and the stones danced on and on;
I touched her shadow when the light delayed;
I turned my face away, and yet she stayed.
A bird sang from the center of a tree;
She loved the wind because the wind loved me.

Love is not love until love’s vulnerable,
She slowed to sigh, in that long interval.
A small bird flew in circles where she stood;
The deer came down, out of the dappled wood.
All who remember, doubt. Who calls that strange?
I tossed a stone, and listened to its plunge.
She knew the grammar of least motion,
She taught me one virtue, and I live thereby.

She held her body steady in the wind;
Our shadows met, and slowly swung around;
She turned the field into a glittering sea;
I played in flame and water like a boy
And I swayed out beyond the white seafoam;
Like a wet log, I sang within a flame.
In that last while, eternity’s confine,
I came to love, I came into my own.

Theodore Roethke

Apologue #21: Never Look Away

It always amazes me how you can just feel someone looking your way
Even when you’re not looking in their direction and you’re just working, simple like that.
I was working on paperwork and you were cleaning out the icebox
And I was too engrossed in reading what was in front of me that the silence we shared didn’t even unsettle me.
I guess that’s just how comfortable I am around you
But every now and then I can feel you glancing up and looking at me and I ignore it thinking it was the trick of the light.
Because why would you stare? Why would you look?
Because what’s in front of you isn’t anything different
It’s something you see that’s never-changing every time you come by and walk through my door.

But then at the same time I have that little light of hope and start thinking if there’s something there
Wondering what you think about as you catch a glimpse of me.
Is she really reading that paper? How come she never looks up at me?
And then when I think it’s safe to see what you’re doing and I look up and our eyes meet each other
I don’t know what to do but then you’re already smiling so I smile back and cover my face with all the papers.
Panicking if you saw the flush on my cheeks or hyperventilating in hopes that he doesn’t think I was just sitting here
Stealing captures of him with my eyes and not actually doing my work as I told him I was.

Ten minutes, twenty minutes
Thirty minutes seem like hours.
No words are being spoken but the tension is rising
As you know he can feel too how he adores the silence just as much as I do.
Because he understands me without having to deeply know me
By just feeling what I need and want from him because that’s all he wants back too.
But no matter how many times he looks up in hopes of catching me again with my eyes
I keep averting and looking away not because I’m shy.
But scared he’ll catch on and start seeing more than he should see
But it seems he’s already started every time I look away.

Apologue #10: You Look Real Good in Purple

He says I look good in purple
As he give me a thumbs up and leaves for the night
He says I need to watch Thor
Because I can’t come to really appreciate Marvel at its silent best
Plus it just happens to be his favorite movie and wants it to be mine too before we can go see the new sequel

He says he loves it when my hair is straight
But my natural curls always gets his fingers to want to entwine and play with them
He says he loves a girl with some meat on her bones
And isn’t just saying it to make me feel better about myself
But really appreciates that true women all have curves and isn’t afraid to admit that he likes to hold on to something when we hold each other close

He says that he wants something greater
As he talks about past relationships and failed commitments
He says that he wants us to be together
Because he can see the greatness that we can be combined as one
Compared to just a lonely one of two separate existences

He says however that he doesn’t want to get married
And doesn’t want kids and commitments to tie him down too tight
Although he already has two and another woman waiting for him to come down his pedestal
As I listen to him saying that she’s just his past and I’m his new future
As he still ravishes me in words that sound so flawless but gets me uncertain

But at the end of the day as our time comes to a close
And I’m here in front of him and he looks me real close
He still surprises me when I look up and think he’s not looking
But he is and I still feel a flutter as he smiles and he says
You look real good in purple

love o’clock