Mar 19

peter, where are you


how have you hidden this time around?
i will steal the car from the garage if it means
i’ll find your key ring somewhere on church st
because if ever there was a portal to heaven
it surely would exist under leunig’s where
the cherry French toast trails under every door
and the first breath in heaven contains
oregano, because there’s nothing more
heavenly than food cooked with delight
and i’m positively sure i saw you once
in the dim light outside of the restaurant,
facing the corner and looking mysterious
because it’s not right for a saint
to look bored in any way.
i almost called out your name but
i’m certain you would have pretended to not know me.
your hand would have hovered over the
key ring, and the one silver key that
never fits in door locks, that you claim
is just for a diary,
must be for the door that humans
spend their lives trying to reach.
Mar 14

Line Break: Episode 1

The long-awaited first episode of YWP's podcast, Line Break, is finally here! This week I joined IrishJayne and we discussed her poem, "A Reminder About The Boy You Love," physics, inspiration, and a little bit of Harry Potter. I hope you enjoy and let me know about any interest in participating in the podcast! Iris :)

 
Audio download:
firstpodcast edited!.mp3
Mar 13

truth is

the truth is
i never wanted to say goodbye
i never wanted the sun to set
or the stars to appear amidst 
the darkness, i never wanted to
part ways. i never wanted 
to feel alone, i never
wanted to wish i wasn't
here. i never wanted you to 
forget about me. 
i never wanted the radio 
to stop playing jazz, 
i never wanted to close the piano lid. 

the truth is
i never wanted you to go into the dirt.
i never wanted you to cease being mine. 
i would offer you an apology, but i never
want to seem breakable. 
 
Mar 13

Tale As Old As Time

this box of darkness, mine
i am running from you, father time
catch me if you can at the
turn of a dime,
sleight of hand,
a quarter from my ear.
 
these hands of restlessness, ours
we sit silent in uncomfortable cars
more than anything we wish to stare at the stars
i’ve been told about this feeling of not having
enough hours, not having enough time,
putting your emotions behind bars and
locking the cell with twine.
 
this mind of ambition, mine
my plans are as straightforward as a traffic sign
you wish that you were half as smart as i,
yet when our GPAs are revealed senior year,
you won’t be the only one wishing you had spent fewer
days dreaming about apartments in the east village.
 
these crazy years, ours
someday we’ll look back at these poems,
surrounded by dust in a musty attic or basement,
hidden in a box marked “CHILDHOOD”
Mar 13

Amen

you are my refrain
slink into my thoughts
water-
fall
 
again and again
i think of you
i wish it wouldn’t be
in all my poems, every haiku
there’s a giant sea
i swim in it
& you wait for me
 
you are my refrain
slink into my thoughts
water-
fall
 
maybe i’ll send you a letter
today, maybe then i would feel better
maybe you need to see my face,
maybe we’re just not in the right place
 
you are my refrain
bring me back from the pain
 
i’ll let go when you let go
you are my refrain
 

 
Mar 13

Line Break: Episode 1

Feb 20

misery

i know where you like to hide.
i know that your fingernails like to
tap along the wall of a blue whale heart,
i know that you like to see how small
your body can become inside an artery.
 
i know you prefer human hearts on occasions-
when the blue whale heart becomes
too stiflingly large,
too anonymous, not nearly enough control.
 
i know you hate anything that stands before you,
i know your mittens are often looped together like handcuffs
and your scarf appears like a noose.
 
i know you like to shimmy into veins,
swim in the dark dangerous blood,
stain the bones with despair,
blame it on chicken pox and be on with your life.
 
i know your type-
staying just long enough to make a difference
and leave a footprint on my chest,
but i know that your feet are too small
to have any weight,
and the prints left on me are self-made.
 
Feb 20

Dear Iris

I wonder where you will be in a few years
 
if you will read this poem and roll your eyes
at the way I idealized everything, the way
the ferocious teenager writing this poem
is so desperate to become a version of herself
that isn’t fully formed yet;
to become someone who is sophistication and
selflessness personified.
 
If you’re reading this and trying to remember
who you were at sixteen years old,
you should probably ask yourself first:
am I still that teenager, still the one with blue eyeliner
and a curling iron, and poems enough to fill
the heart of a blue whale with room to spare,
am I still that girl?
Am I still the one who counts her publications-
I think it was 37, but maybe 38, but maybe it doesn’t matter,
but maybe my worth does not depend on reading my poems
in the back section of the newspaper on Friday mornings.
Maybe my poems are extra-
Feb 10

Chapter 16: Risotto & Poetry


I am me; imagination, creativity, and big plans in an even bigger world. I am me; a girl with glasses and dreams and a restless feeling in my heart to be someone.

I’m clumsy and I laugh a lot, and sometimes I forget what I’m saying in the middle of a sentence. I’m short and think my nose would look better on a hawk. I only paint my nails when I want to be glamorous, then I peel off the polish because I don’t recognize my hands when I look at them. I don’t forgive people easily and I’m a professional at holding onto grudges.
Dec 17

evolution of humankind

we evolved
the wings that once sprouted from our shoulder blades

disappeared
they couldn’t stay-

humans aren’t supposed to fly
we never should have learned how to be in the sky

because once you love something so impossible

you can never let it go
so on that day forever ago

amid the thrashing landscapes and the tepid waterfalls

the humans stood-
gathered like the monarchs before migration, 

they stood like us today

in a sort of unity that we do not understand anymore
and as the waves slowly licked the rocky shore

our feathered wings molted away from our bodies 

and were ground, by the wind, the air, the rain, 

into the grass
we evolved

because our bodies know it isn’t healthy 

to give humans the power to fly
 

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