New York

They call her grand.
Her beauty alone causes the success and failure of millions.
Her beauty...
Is as dangerous as it is appealing.
But the fear of rejection stops no one from attempting her.
Everyone thinks they are a winner,
And she?... well she never says otherwise.
She craves the love and affection given to her.
And love her they do.
Unable to help themselves,
Infected with an obsession that even they themselves cannot explain.
They crave the place they call Newyork.
They want to possess her,
But me?..
I simply want to call her home.

The Ambitious Ones

This hotel room isn't big enough for us all.
The weight from each of our hopes and fears is almost suffocating.
The question is who will be the first of us to succumb to the pressure?
Eyes filled with envy smile around our circle.
Were each failures in our own right,
but will go to our graves before admitting it.
This hotel room isn't big enough for us all.
And yet the question still remains,
Who among us will be the first to persevere? 

Untitled

Ive been listening to that music again.
The songs that comfort me, but that also remind me  of my broken world.
The lyrics are so beautiful,
even as they break my heart silently.
I wish I was stronger sometimes...
I tell myself that its better to be reminded of loss, than to hear the echo of my distraught heart.
It's cries are so agonizing at times.
I soo wish I could compel myself to forget.
But even I know the pain is a reminder that once in my life,
I had a place to call home.

Reflection

They call her beautiful.
The girl with the crooked smile and one dimple on her left cheek.
They say when she smiles, it's as if the sun rises higher in the sky.
They call her beautiful.
The girl with the crooked smile,the one dimple in her left cheek and the chipped black nail polish wearing on her fingers.
They say that when she smiles,
It's as if all is right in the world.
They call her beautiful.
The girl who smiles with her eyes,
And who hides the broken pieces of her heart in the glossed over creases of her lips.
The weight of her world cements her feet,
Dragging her slowly through her ,"I'm okay"s and "everything's alright."
They call her beautiful.
...And sometimes, just sometimes
I believe she is too.

Untitled

I want to meet my lover in between the lines of a poem and a fairy tale,
That way no matter where the stanzas takes us,
We'll know for sure that we'll have a happy ending.
Prince Charming  meets princess,
Princess meets Prince Charming ,
Love ensues.
And the journey of Ever After will begin replaying itself, 
So that each time our journey creeps close to our end we'll remember 
The moments of first kisses,
Warm embraces,
And the ever genuine I love you's.
The real stuff that you only read about as a kid,
At the ages where insecurities have yet to set in.
And when a boy liked a girl,
It was even if she was wearing pig tails and overalls.
Innocent.
Real even.

Love

I’ve never had the pleasure of being in love.

Not because I won’t open myself up to the idea or even because I am picky.

The men simply don’t go for me.

It seems as if my type isn’t appealing to one’s eye.

I’ve been lucky to have years filled with travel.

To see places that explorers only write in their journals of.

And yet still,

I’ve never had the pleasure of being in love

Oh what I would give to be the center of someone’s attention

To have someone think of me just as much as I think of them

To be held in the arms of a lover after our bodies have exhausted themselves.

To simply be in love

Oh I can only imagine.

Honesty

…And honestly,

I checked out of this conversation the moment our eyes met.

This whole two strangers, randomly having an awesome conversation in a popular cafe, is too much like the movies.

And I?,

Well I’ve seen my fair share to know that they are for entertainment purposes only.

But I want you to know,

That if I wasn’t my overly  pessimistic, skeptic, broken hearted self,

That I would let you love me.

                                               

Moments In Between

For a moments time,

The breaking can’t be heard.

The hurried breaths of panic are hushed with a waves of serenity,

And for a moment…..tranquility overwhelms.

Myths of night having a dawn prove true,

And suffering has its reasons.

Warmth heats the face with tears traveled across them,

And the silence of it all is no longer deafening.

For a moments time,

Serenity exist

Transit In Pause

The train station on Charles street continues to fill and empty.

The echo of footsteps traveling “somewhere” draw my attention.

I wish I had somewhere to go

Someplace to be

And someone excited for my arrival.

My home is miles away and long forgotten.

The guy in the green baseball cap is sitting further away than I would like.

If he were closer, he would see the dimple in my left cheek.

I would smile for him.

Even if he wasn’t my type, I’d still smile for him,

But he isn’t close enough,

And my head is down writing something that isn’t even intriguing.

But ‘oh how I wish I was intriguing.

How I wish I was of some importance.

Love is so unfair.

But a’las I shall continue to sit with my head in this book.

Far from a home that is miles away and long forgotten.

And continue to listen to the echo of footsteps of people traveling “somewhere”

…wishing I had somewhere to go

Someplace to be

And someone excited for my arrival.

The Profession

I’ve never had a good work ethic,

And that’s even before I learned what it meant to have one.

I am a soul that was destined to fly

And fly I will.

No alarm clock sounds for the spirit of an eagle.

The wind is what moves me

The wind is what drives me

A sky filled with nothing but opportunities

has me at the door ready to knock.

I am the listener of soft whispers and heavy sighs.

The interpreter of all the things that no one says.

I sleep between the sheets where the scent of star crossed lovers linger,

And revel in between unspoken lines of poetry.

I am a writer.

A story teller of sorts.