Poem: Ground Control #2

Poem: Ground Control #2

It’s the same song again,

But a different feeling,

And maybe I’ll never know why

I feel so pressured by the passage of time,

But the same voice promises

That I’ll be fine

Even as my heavy heart

Distresses me further.

It repeats the same lines

So many times

That I might start to believe it

Someday.

j.p

Part of the “Ground Control” series of poems, written while listening to the same song (“Ground Control” by All Time Low) several months apart

Poem: Cotton Candy

I’ll dream of you

In navy blue

Like you wore on that late spring night

When the festival light

Of fireworks bright

Was reflected back by your wide eyes.

I’ll sing to you of the world as I knew it

Amid the neon boom

That pounded in my ears.

It was the same night that I knew I loved you,

Cotton candy caught in my curls

Like the woven thread

Of my fingers intertwined with yours,

When I stood close enough to you

That I thought I could hear

The navy blue neon boom

Of your heartbeat matching mine.

j.p

Poem: About Balloons

He asked me to write him a poem about balloons.

I said, “What about them?

Their defiance of gravity?

Their vibrant colors against the dullness of the sky?”

His reply:

“If you could, write about me as a balloon.

I know that it’s impossible,

But I dream that I can fly.”

I gazed into his eyes,

Which, in turn, met mine.

I said, “You believe that you can’t

Because you haven’t dared to try.”

He asked me to write him a poem about balloons.

I said, “Why about them, when I can write about you?

You, whose laugh conjures cotton candy among clouds,

Your heart the gleaming sun that brightens up my life.”

j.p

Poem: Unspoken Lines #3

A Haiku // The One about a Walk

“Let’s go for a walk

And watch the sun rise for us

To bask in its light.”

j.p

Poem: Streamers

In another world,

You and I would step out,

Arm in arm,

To dance beneath the streamers

That scream “PROM”

In shades of neon

That you’d call “nauseating”

But make you smile nonetheless

Because the atmosphere there is too upbeat

For a poor design choice to make a difference.

We would sway to too-loud tunes,

Slow-dance on what is supposed to be

One of the best nights of high school,

And pretend that we will be okay,

At least for one day.

j.p

Poem: Beauty

I saw a half-drawn image of a girl,

One whom I nearly mistook for myself,

Before I realized how much smoother the lines were

That were painted on her face,

How few eraser marks I could discern on the page.

Her skin too vibrant,

Her eyes too bright,

How could I mistake her silky hair for mine?

I saw a half-drawn image of a girl,

Who bore no likeness to myself,

Before I realized how alike we were

In the first moment that I saw her,

When I saw my half-drawn self

Reflected in her eyes,

When her half-drawn eyes

Reflected her half-drawn self back into mine.

j.p