Portal Poetry

Books, movies, rocks, cups….

But for her,

I wish I’d had enough.

Because I loved her most.

I know who I’m doing this for.

Eventually I’ll give generously

to the city that I wish loved me more.

To the city of children’s dreams

taken at the point of a gun.

But I don’t play with them, I reprogram them.

I spill my ink intentionally

and has demons that we ignore.

We’re locked in families, bruised egos,

and remnants of ancestory

warring for nothing.

It’s hard to carry that so far.

It’s impossible to mend every scar.

So, start with yourself and what you want.

If you read this, just know that

Sunlight nestles perfectly in the crevice between two old buildings.

Ages ago, in this perfect crevice, I dug holes and planted flowers that grew in rich soil.

Now a piece of my heart slumbers beneath that soil, too.

Water is charged deep down in the well on this land and it flows right next to you like a tribute.

Home, I suppose I’d call it. Countryside, I’ll always bleed it.

Cornfields, stargazing, and more stray cats than I could name.

and I don’t care who is confused.

In fact, I don’t care who can’t face me

because that’s less work for me to do.

This is always who I’ve been;

Literally, I chewed on pine needles

to deepen the fragrant sensation

of earth permeating the air.

I inhaled deeply in the countryside

far away from stifling commerce

and the peanut county fair.

I thought I’d want the city life,

you throw all your insults at me.

I don’t take the injury, but I see

that you don’t mean to hurt me.

You just consider me invincible

but I reproach you

when I hate what you’ve done.

When you are careless and stupid,