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Make Room for Poetry

by Anj CP | Love Poems and Other Mushy Stuff

Author

anjc815

I love writing short stories for my daughter, who, on the other hand, loves editing my work. I survive my full-time job by writing make-believe worlds and poetry on the commute to work and crafting on the weekends.

Always Lying

I say I still love you

And you say you still love me.

But we are always lying.

Sometimes it’s me

And sometimes it’s you

But we both pretend we believe

so that we don’t hurt each other.

Someday our lies

Will catch up to us

And then who will we lie to?

Rehash

You’ve changed your nose.

It looks good, I’m not gonna lie.

You wear better clothes,

You’ve found your style.

And for a while, I forget why I ever left.

But you open your mouth

And your stories are a broken record

Of mistakes you cannot move from.

And then I remember

Beneath the beauty and bluster

Is the same you.

Eternal Hopeful

I have this long standing belief,

In spite of all previous experiences to the contrary

That love will find me again

Except this time, it will blossom into a garden where now only lies dry soil

And it will be overflowing enough for everyone to get a share and come home with their own love to pass around.

So while I momentarily grieve each broken heart,

I remain steadfast in the hope that the next one will be that kind of love.

Fixing an Unbroken Heart

I tried fixing your heart

and you let me.

Out of kindness, I suppose.

Who knows?

But upon careful examination,

My unfavorable conclusion

Is that your heart’s not broken.

It just doesn’t beat for me.

Shall We Begin This?

You’re the almost to my maybe

The missed boat to my open sea

The one risk I haven’t had the chance to take

The best decision I have yet to make.

Timing can ruin even the best songs

One misstep can lead to all sorts of wrongs

But what’s a song if it’s not sung?

And what is us if we haven’t even begun?

Your Face is a Poem

Your face is a poem.

With eyes that dance to a meter,

and lips that speak in rhyme.

I sometimes understand you.

But mostly, I find you open to interpretation.

That is your secret,

and I am endlessly fascinated.

Sticking to Simple Dreams

I know we’re in the middle of a world’s that’s gone and flipped itself over,

and I can’t make heads or tails of things beyond me.

So I’m sticking to this simple dream–

I just want someone to kiss hello,

and to blow kisses goodbye.

On Guns and Hearts

On Owning a gun and giving one’s heart:

It should only be given to a person who can responsibly care for it.

It should only be possessed by a person of sound mind.

It should only be accepted by one who knows he consequences of misuse.

*Somebody reminded my yesterday that poetry can be used to make a stand and my stand is responsible gun ownership.

I think one important key to determining responsibility is complying with a strict protocol on dispensing gun licenses. You wouldn’t give a license to a person not fit to drive, and so should it be for a person not fit to own a weapon.

Shared Air

We are a tumble of breaths,

Each not knowing where one starts and one ends.

with your every inhale, my ribs are pulled in,

And in my every exhale it is your breath I smell on me,

We are so close, we share the same air.

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