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About this blog

Where I keep my poetry 

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Rainy Days

I can really appreciate rainy days.
Sometimes the sun is too harsh
Or the snow too bitter.
Give me days where the clouds,
          like my eyes,
Are overcast and the fog,
          like my shoulders,
Hang low.
Something about bleak colors
Cold earth, speckled windshields,
That I embody.
Sympathizing with 
Worms drowning in puddles
Lacking the energy to save them.
Empty bottles kicked beneath feet
Only to be forgotten and left
Sinking in the mud
Indifferent to life and death.
On days like these
I imagine Mother Nature as
A girl in a hoodie
Walking through puddles
Headphones in
Music too loud
And probably a coffee in hand
Not to warm or wake her
But because caffeine is a drug
Required to keep herself moving.
On days like these
Stillness is equal to death
Physical or mental
the lines blurred
Not unlike the horizon in the fog.
On days like these
I can’t tell Mother Nature and myself



This must be very, very rough for you,

And I’m sorry that it had to happen like this.

Rest assured, this is hard for me too.

Making the decision was something I did

Because I thought it would make things easiest.

College is already on its way,

Life is changing,

We are changing,

Time is changing.

We both knew this would have to happen sooner or later,

And it does suck.

But I want you to know that it was never

Because of anything you did.

You were always an amazing girlfriend,

And excellent friend,

And a wonderful person.

You still are.

So don’t think you ever did anything wrong,

This isn’t a punishment.

Honestly, things would be totally different

If time wasn’t pressed against our backs.

But we both knew something like this would

Happen sooner or later.

That’s the magical thing about the universe,

It always balances itself out.

There has never been joy without pain.

Everything must fall once it has been raised.

Every day has its night.

Every mountain makes a valley.

It’s all part of a cycle built on an

Infinite wave of ups and downs.

So things might be bad right now.

They might be bad for a long, long time.

But they will get better.

They will always get better.

Never forget that.

So, if this, or anything else,

Is ever hard to let go of, just remember

That it’s because something wonderful happened,

And now the universe needs you to pay a price.

But whatever happened was certainly wonderful enough

To make you feel terrible,

And that’s a blessing. Life is short and ever-changing.

Our time is limited,

And as simple, insignificant humans,

The most we can do is enjoy the dance.

Love deeply,

Sing loudly,

Share your secrets,

And never stop asking questions.

So don’t feel bad about mourning,

It’s just another part of living.


Cry whenever it is needed,

But never forget the good times.

Never forget why you cry,

Or, more importantly,

Why you smiled at the start.

So take that energy,

Find what makes that smile,

And pursue it relentlessly.

Chase it to the ends of the earth,

Because if you don’t, who will?

I can’t guarantee that you will do wonderful things.

I can’t guarantee that life will always treat you fairly.

But I promise that if you look for love

Wherever you travel,

The universe itself will smile upon you.

Open your heart,

Open your hands,

Close your eyes,

And leap.

Let the world swallow you whole.

Never be afraid to drown,

Because some don’t get the chance to swim.

From the deepest well of my heart,

Thank you Jaiden,

For everything.



Love Poem

You asked me to write you a poem.

I’m sure that you hoped for a love poem

So sweet that it makes your teeth hurt.

I’m sorry but I can’t do that.

I can’t write you a love poem.

But if you let me

I will write you a new sky,

Describe to you in detail the way the clouds war

In the moments before they’re about to cry.

I can’t write you a love poem.

Instead, I can write you butterflies.

Butterflies that tickle your stomach

In those precious seconds before

Planes leave the ground,

Before lights flicker in the dark,

Before a snake strikes,

Before you talk to the girl you love for the first time

Or the second time

Or the hundredth time.

I can’t write you a love poem.

But maybe, in its place,

I could write you a spring breeze.

The very same breeze that gently brushed

Her hair in her face.

A breeze that orders flowers

To dance a slow waltz

Your hand against the small of her back

Holding her close enough to smell her

But gently as not to break her.

Flowers are best left unpicked.

I can’t write you a love poem.

But, to make up for it

I will write you constellations

Describe how loudly they sparkle

And how it sounds like laughter

From nights spent in trees and

Next to fireplaces.

Constellations you have memorized in the

Freckles on her face

Mapped out by the gentle touch

Of fingers to skin.

I can’t write you a love poem,

But I will write you a creaky swing set,

A slow moving stream,

A cloudy sky,

A warm afternoon.

I will write you the color of her eyes,

The smell of girly shampoo,

The sound of burning wood

And the heat from it on your skin.

You asked me to write you a poem

And I can’t write you a love poem.

Instead I can write you my love.


Poetry Idea: Nostalgia


I saw three young children

Jumping on a trampoline today

And it made me sad

Because I remember being that young

And finding joy in small things,

Such as trampolines,

But now I am older

And I find joy in nothing.


Poetry Idea: Two Cents

Two Cents

There are some things

That I will never forget.

Like the habit of asking

“Two cents for your thoughts.”

As if thoughts can be bought

Using any type of currency.

Since none of that makes sense,

Here, take two.

It may not be much

But at least it means something.

It’s always worth something

If it’s coming from you.

There are some things

That will always survive

In my mind like how

Instead of two cents

You always gave five

Because you always sought

To find what I’d hidden

Deep inside myself.

So you begin by slipping

My religion from my hips;

Pulling my insecurities

From my chest and over my head

Until we exist with our souls

Embarrassingly naked.

Our interests rushing through our veins

Starting the blush in our cheeks.

Our battles recorded in

Scars and bruises

On the soft parchment of our skin.

Habits freckled across our bodies

Mapped out like

The constellations in the sky.

There are some things

That will always make me wonder

Like how you claimed that

You were made of the stars,

That you had galaxies in your eyes,

Planets in your mind

Creating life and new ideas.

And you spoke the wonders of space

When you said that one day

You would do incredible things,

And that one day I could too.

There are some things

That I will forever recite.

Like your poem about the fox

And it’s rejected love.

And now, like the fox, I sit,



Maybe hoping

To find someone like you

But I’m not sure if I want to.

Because the one thing

I can’t unfeel

Is the night you left me for another.

Somehow I always knew that

I was nothing more than temporary,

But I vowed to

Never share thoughts with a lover.

So instead of two cents

For your thoughts,

Here’s a quarter to

Keep it to yourself for a change.


Three Little Girls

Envy stood at the edge of the park

With her pudgy arms folded

Across her small chest.

She scowled at the children

Who sat in the sandbox

And left no room for her.

Lust kicked the grass

And shrieked at those kids

“I want it! I need it!

I must have it! It’s mine!”

Greed pushed and shoved,

The girl with brown curls.

She punched and bit

The arms of the boys

Until the sandbox was empty

For only her use.

Gluttony’s Feast and Sloth’s Defeat

Gluttony arrived

In the form of locusts

And ate at the

Tall golden stalks.

They ripped the flesh

Of Sloth’s wild crops

And beneath them

The life disappeared.

As the plants died

At the mouth of Gluttony

Sloth made no move

To stop him.


Broken trees and

Broken bones;

Deep valleys and

Deep gashes.

Streams of mud and

Streams of blood.

The earth’s own wrath

Destroyed the city,

But that same wrath

Destroyed itself.


I paused at the doors

Of a chapel of gold

And saw Pride preaching there.

From outside the gate

Words bombarded my ears

Before being lost to the world.

Many, like me,

Paused as they passed

Entranced by the display of wealth

Some even entered

The luxurious church

And heeded Pride’s every remark.

I could see in Pride’s eyes

That he not only believed

The people of the street would listen,

But he also expected

To have the attention

Of even the omnipotent God.


The sun kissed the earth

Gently and kindly

And their love

Colored the sky


Unrequited Love

I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend.

Back then, my life was a song

With the bright music that reminds you of your youth

The one that screams “I’m wild! I’m free!”

Like doves we stuck together

Like ying and yang we were complete opposites

But somehow always seemed to fit.

Like the moon and the stars,

We were works of art.

And yes the moon had suitors but everyone must have known

That I was just one rock

In comparison to a billion suns.

My words a jester’s nonsense

To her majestic poetry.

My maturity that of a child

But she held the stature of a queen.

My heart an open box

Hers a hidden treasure chest.

With her by my side, the world was new.

I had someone to sing with.

College isn’t just a new song.

It’s a new genre,

A new atmosphere.

It’s instruments that I’ve never heard before

And voices of complete strangers.

Upon separation, we cried together.

We talked as often as best friends do,

She says, “I hate it here. I miss you.”

And together we count down the days until Christmas.

Our flipped hourglass recording the seconds

As we scratch the number of days into the walls with our fingernails

But somehow we still have the strength to write a To-Do list

Because, sure, I hate Utah,

But it seemed a little more bearable thinking

Of all the things we would get to do together.

She was that familiar song that

Reminded me of home.

Winter came and brought with it the cold and the silence.

The messages disappeared

The calls became a rare occurrence.

The music transformed into a

Mournful piano piece in the distance.

And college, college is walking the busy streets of New York by yourself.

Unbearably surrounded but completely isolated.

I’m alone in Utah with no one to call me “friend”

And I realize that I am waiting for someone like her

But you see, there is no one else like her

And she has already met someone new.

She’s got a new friend now and that’s OK.

“She’s adorable” she says.

“I don’t know how I’d survive college without her.”

I’m still alone but she still says “I miss you”

And I still love her and that’s ok.

While in the air, all I could think of was her.

I saw her in the clouds and in the sky

And in everything beautiful on the earth.

I heard the wind whisper,

“Everything will be ok once you’re together.”

It was the same thing that I had whispered to myself in the weeks prior.

Upon landing that plane,

My Christmas Eve gift to myself was a drive to her house.

“She isn’t here.

She is out with a boy.”

She didn’t ask me to see her again until December 31.

I know that date because it was the day my heart broke-

The day that she looked me in the eyes and said,

“No one has ever understood me like he does.

No one has ever cared for me like him.”

I’m surprised she didn’t hear my heart break.

To me the sound was deafening,

The sound of my quivering heartstrings

Of the symphony playing that tragically beautiful song,

The song that reminds us of the ones we’ve lost,

The song that no one wants to listen to,

But no one wants to forget.

How stupid of me to think that everything would be ok,

Because I was just one cold rock

And she was the life of a million solar systems.

I’m back in Utah now and this poem was incredibly hard to write

I hate to beat a dead horse,

But I feel like that overly played song on the radio.

The one that no one seems to like

But everyone is caught singing.

Constantly living in fear of meeting someone as she has

Constantly living in fear of repeating the last mistake.

But if our God really is “all merciful”

Then why is a mistake such a feared thing?

I hate to sound like that hymn you sing every Sunday

But whether you’re religious or not,

Can we all agree on one thing?

That no one is perfect?

I know that I should tell you,

“Don’t be afraid to love.

Don’t be afraid to sing.

Don’t be afraid of mistakes.”

But I won’t.

Because now I have become that horribly cliché poet

Singing that overly played song

Titled “Unrequited Love.”


Poetry Idea: Sunset


I’m surprised

By the gentleness

Of his lips against mine,

Like the sun kissing the horizon.

I can feel the colors

Pulse through my veins;

In my fingertips-

In my toes.

The kind of sunset

You want to capture

And never let go.

The kind of sunset that is inspired

By divine artists.

The kind you can feel-

Not just see.

But I wonder-

Can he feel the colors too?


Everything ends.

There was a girl

That was my best friend.

Together we did so much.

We went on coffee dates at the Starbucks downtown.

And sent each other pictures of the clouds.

We wrote poetry

And lived for foggy days.

We made awkward eye contact with boys to see their reactions

Wrote handwritten letters with coded messages.

But everything ends

And I’m scared that now she sees me

When she buys coffee at Starbucks

But I’m not there.

I fear that she sees me standing in the fog

Or sees my eyes when she catches the gaze

Of the boy across the room.

There was a boy

That I was in love with.

Together we did so much.

We baked pizza

And drove through the hills.

We slow-danced in his basement and

Offered each other 2 cents for our thoughts.

He played me songs on his guitar

Complimented my little striped dress.

But everything ends

And I’m scared he thinks it’s me

That he is making pizza with

But it isn’t.

I fear that he feels my rhythm

When he slow dances

Or hears my voice when he spots

The abandoned pennies in the console of his car.

There is a boy

Who I have come to care for.

Together we do so much.

We take long drives around town

And make frequent Taco Bell runs

Not because the food is good

But because we enjoy the company.

We match our flannel

And I took him snowshoeing for the first time.

And I was the one who introduced

My silly California boy to the

Starry night sky that the

Lights of his home

Normally hid.

But everything ends

And I’m scared that when it does,

He will see me in Taco Bell

But I’m not.

I fear that his flannel will hang

Gathering dust in his closet

Or that he will walk at night

With his eyes to the ground

Because he will hear my laugh

In the twinkling of the stars.

And I know that it will be this way,

Because everything ends

And I feel her hugs in the clouds

And hear his laugh in the hills

And I am scared that one day

I will feel his touch in the snow.

Because everything ends.

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