Meteoroid - 06/07/16

I always thought that I was going to
burn,
disintegrate into a billion pieces,
fall apart,
lose cohesion,
scatter like ash,
as nothing large enough to impact,
as a meteor.

But as the surface looms
I think I might
survive.

A Lesson In Cosmology - 12/04/14

You are so incredibly
small.
One in seven billion people
on a planet that is
one in nine orbiting
a sun that is
one in 400 billion stars
in a galaxy that is
one in 100 billion galaxies
in the universe that
is all
of everything.
Infinitely big
that makes you look so
infinitely small.
And the same is true
of everyone you meet.
Your cosmic insignificance,
your fear, and your pain
are shared
by every other being
in existence.
You and I are so incredibly
small.

You are so incredibly
huge.
You are one made of
100 trillion cells
made of
70 trillion atoms
made of protons, neutrons, and electrons,
made of quarks and gluons,
made of light an energy,
made of singularities,
down to the smallest limit.
You are 7 billion people,
you are 9 planets,
you are 400 billion stars,
you are 100 billion galaxies,
you are a universe
that is all
of everything.
Infinitely small
that makes you look so
infinitely big.
And the same is true
of everyone you meet.
Your cosmic significance ,
your pride, and your purpose
are shared
by ever other being.
You and I are so incredibly
big.

When I Say That You're Stardust - 01/19/14

Don't let anyone tell you that you can be anything;
that if you dream it, you can be;
that you'll get anywhere wishing on stars.
This world was not built to grant your wishes,
nor mine,
and, someday, you'll find
that your blood is required to get very far.
I want you to know this going in.
I don't want you to know
that the world is mostly darkness;
I want you to know
that you're the world's only light.
I don't want you to know
that life is a battlefield;
I want you to know
when and how to fight.
I don't want you to know
your place;
I want you to know
how to scream,
I want you to know
what your words taste like
when they leave your mouth;
how to say "love" and mean it;
how to say "hate" and mean it;
what equality looks like,
what power feels like,
and how to have the parts
of both that you want and need
in order to breathe
a sigh of relief
in this eighty, ninety, hundred year struggle
of your life.

I want you to know
you'll never get anywhere wishing on stars.
I want you to know
you'll get exactly where you are
and you'll never be happy
if you aren't allowed
to watch comet trails in the night
and imagine a utopia
where you don't have to fight
for the right to be
exactly the way you were born.
I want you to know
that a star is more you
than a mirror and
I want you to know
that the same is true
for everyone you meet.
I don't want you to know
that you can be anything
because I want you to know
that you are everything.

2014 - 01/01/14

Capture the world in more words and memories
and less regrets and fantasies.
More tea, less coffee;
more coffee, less espresso shots;
more espresso shots, less procrastination;
more procrastination to look at the stars.
Look at the stars.
Look at the moon.
Ask friends to walk with me,
ask friends to dine with me,
watch movies with me,
laugh with me,
sit in silence and study with me.

Even I - 10/14/13

Even I can't fall in love with the moon in the sky,
even if I try,
not matter how I try.
I can't pull the stars out every night,
not with all my might,
no, not with all my might.
I can't turn a scream into a lullaby,
that would make you sigh,
that would make you cry.
I've got nothing up my sleeve,
nothing up my sleeve,
anymore.
I've got no more parables
to keep you warm,
to keep me warm.
Even I can't fall in love with the moon in the sky,
even if I try,
even when I try,
no matter how I try.

Soft Serenade - 06/02/13

Despite
ignited engines,
thumping speaks
in chilled chest cavities,
bombshells and butterflies
begging to be released,
roars resonating
in riveting rockets,

I long only to sit,
lips meeting in a gentle, silent smile,
and listen to you call
universes
into being with your words.

She Never Put Her Heels On - 04/26/13

The universe
has runs in her stockings
the origins of which
we have been trying
to describe
since Copernicus
first looked to
the skies.

The Photoelectric Effect - 11/25/12

I cleaned out my idea books

to make room for textbooks,

set down my quantum books

to fiddle with computer programs,

rid my mind of poetry

to welcome in philosophy,

turned away from all I felt

until I thought no more.

But the stars don't care

how you interpret

quantum mechanics

or what images

you make with them

or how you came to be,

for they are

your creator,

the still image

of their past lives

making its way to you,

slowly.

I turn away and the light

cannot be said to shine.

When I do not write about them,

they do not wait,

yet are still where I left them

when I come to my senses,

turn back around

and see.

The city lights are star,

fallen on the ground,

and the path I take to see them,

a black hole's event horizon,

dangerous and dark,

Nine pm out on the bluff,

with cold stars of night air

burning my burnt fingers,

and stars of water molecules

rippling down below

and stars of thrilling melodies

ringing from the bell tower

and stars of my own,

palpable as I peak

from under a branch

and the city glitters into being,

stars of probability functions and many-worlds

collapsing in the existence of many-minds

but somehow always the way I see it,

and only when I see it.

Each scientist and poet

got their fame

by listening to the stars

and reporting what they heard.

No more or less

could ever be said

about anything in the world,

but stars and stars

is all we are,

little nuclear reactors of light

so bright

our after image spans the solar system,

pushing further everyday.

Sierra's Concerto - 10/26/12

Sweet Jupiter rising
Sweet cascade of moons
Flying
Flying for you
Somewhere
Out there
Another body of water
Awaits the spark
That brings it all to life
Rearranges the dice
Turns back time
Sweet Jupiter spinning
Sweet storm clouds look so pretty
So far away
Sweet Jupiter singing
Where no one can hear
Or say
A thing anyway
Sweet Jupiter
All for you

The Hardest Part of Packing Up - 8-12-12

It's like
plucking a memory
from the
soft tissue
under
my bone.
Pulling sounds and songs,
twisting whispers and words up
to be piled neatly and sorted through.
Which to keep,
which to leave behind,
which to recycle.
The synapses that hold
them together
all shoved in a tiny tack box.

It's like plucking a memory,
pulling down my posters from Cross Fit,
cards from birthdays and valentines,
invitations to parties,
paintings and doodles
by me and dear friends,
withered flowers from ex-boyfriends
and neighbors
and parents
and friends,
trinkets,
Pokemon cards,
awards for math and science and poetry,
schematics,
blueprints of spaceships,
images of the cosmos,
hearts, brains, photographs,
magazine clippings,
membership cards,
album covers from old LPs,
clocks, stickers,
and the model of an atom
that I nicked from my chemistry class
in Sophomore year
on the day Mayer didn't come to class.

How To Be Brave - 01/13/12

Against the inconceivable emptiness of space,
stretching on far longer than existence,
light streaks through nothing,
exploding over distance faster than anything else.
As it rolls through space,
in waves and particles,
out toward the end of the universe,
out to infinity,
out into nothing,
does the light know to what it is headed?
Can it perceive its journey,
the unending futility of its path?
Yet on it runs,
reverberating beyond existence.
 
It is in certainty of failure that boldness comes easiest.
When there is no chance of winning there is nothing to lose.
So take the leap from the sun
and travel out to the blackness.
No more harm can come from flying
than from waiting for a super nova.

She's Very Pretty From Far Away - 10/15/11

This has probably been said,
in a previous poem,
but on dreary nights
such as this,
when I return to old poems
with a gloomy music backdrop,
I relive those
feelings, those
thoughts, those
moments of futile sadness.
It is in those bleak moments
that I come to understand
why he wouldn’t want to talk to me,
the real reason I don’t care about prom,
the best course of action
in my social life.

Maybe I was meant to be
a scientific poet,
mixing physics equations
into verse
and observing love from
a cold neutron star
light years from the feelings.
Dead stars don’t care
if you’re awkward, or nervous,
or helplessly sad.
Dead stars don’t worry
and stand back when they see
your dark thoughts.
Dead stars don’t feel,
it’s as simple as that.
Dead stars don’t care,
can’t.

Should I accept that fate?
Should I step away from the scene,
float back to the star,
watch his movements
and never speak up?
Something keeps nagging
that I should,
telling me it’s best
but for once I can’t figure out
who it is.
Certainly not the heart.
And the mind is lonely
and bored
and overrun with hormones.
And the soul is
exasperated and sad.
The body’s voice is obvious,
if obnoxious.
So who is saying no?
Who bites my lip until it scars
and says “Never, never, never”?

There’s a part of me
that doesn’t want
to be happy.
I don’t write very well when I’m cheerful.
All my fantasies
are smeared with blood.
All my thoughts follow suit.
And my only dreams
are horror scenes.

I know that part,
wherever, whoever it is,
I know it is wrong.




So why do I listen?

Synesthesia - 10/15/11

I had no desire
for anything to do with
your heart, your mind, your soul.
You were cute,
that was all that I wanted to think.
You were handsome,
that was all that I wanted
running  through my mind
when I blushed as you walked by.
I wanted a lobotomy,
a heart transplant,
and a computer with a sex drive for a soul.

And you stood up
with a binder full of poetry
and read.

There is magic
in the universe,
particles smaller that electrons,
dimensions I can’t see,
physics I can’t understand.
There is music in the cosmos,
vibrations of heart strings,
sighs at frequencies yet unimagined.
You read poetry
and I heard the space’s symphony.
You spoke art
and I saw sound,
colors replacing noise,
filling the room with swirls
of painted vapor.

So pardon me
if I flirt,
despite knowing your heart
belongs to another girl,
because I saw pixie dust descend
over a classroom
and I felt light enough to fly,
because I tasted music and poetry
and would have swallowed it whole,
given anything more than the aroma,
because it doesn’t matter
what comes of longing and looking,
only that I can enjoy the view,
because life is too long,
love is boring,
and although I cannot
control feeling good,
I can try my hardest not to care.

Crushed By Nothingness- 08/29/11

What do you say to the stars?
What do you say
When they see your scars?
What do you do when their light bombards
The cracks in your head
You’ve been hiding so hard?
And how
Do you
Ever come back
From the black hole’s trap
Once you’ve seen such darkness?
How do you live
With the pretty, rich kids
Who smile with softness?
Where do you go
When the sad music plays?
Does your head spins out of control
For days?
When the vacuum takes you,
Where do you stand?
Firm on the stars
Or sinking in the sand?

Starshine - 08/09/11

Sometimes it seems like
The lights on the edge of the world
Fade further every day

I'm chasing down a star
Wondering how it got so far away
Aren't you lonely, little star?
Would you like a friend?
Well, I'd like one too

But if you can hear me
If you can feel me
If you wonder what's she like?
You're too close
Take a few steps back
She only like the stars

The Edge of the Universe - 06-07-11

Let me just try to explain
The changes in my brain
The shift in the synapses
The rearranging of the road

Sit alone,
On the edge of the universe,
Looking out.
What do you see?
Probably nothing,
You can’t see anything
Beyond what exists.
But I can.
I have found the right lens
The right glasses
The right perspective
That allows the images
That are just beyond the edge of the universe
To filter into my brain.

This used to be what drove me insane,
Trying to see what wasn’t there
Trying to image what I couldn’t fathom
Trying to hear smells,
Taste light,
See sound.

Mr. Meursault
Thought to kill a man
For the sun.
He shrugged at the guillotine,
His long face still unemotional,
The crowd cheering hate.
I held my tongue and waited.
Listened.
Sat still as Siddhartha on the river,
Listening to the trickle of rememory,
All the different generation blended
Into a single reflection,
Reflecting himself.
Patient in the countryside,
Clara sat at her desk and wrote,
And waited for the right time to speak,
To use her voice.
Patient in the plains,
Ida sat before the screen,
And kept her powerful story
For the end, the climax.
Patiently in the ice,
Shukov lived one more day.
I listened,
Patiently,
Quietly,
Hidden behind musty pages
And fictional titles.
Observing what was beyond
The edge of the universe.

Summed Up in a Held Breath - 02/06/11

Do you know what “everything” means?
Do you understand “love”?
Do you know what “my whole world”
Is comprised of?

Little flashes of your smile,
Between sarcastic remarks
On my personal habits,
My sleep schedule,
My on and off anorexia,
My insanity.
That little eye roll.
Circular hand motions.
“Breathe” as a command,
Not a verb,
Not a word,
But my whole world
Summed up in a held breath
A skipped heart beat.
A gentle hug.
A quiet kiss.
Refusing to let me out of your arms.
Refusing to let my lips leave yours.
Jaws firm against each other.
Magnificence
In a scent
Captivating
Intoxicating
Stimulating.
Rocked in a sound wave
A perfect crest and trough
To sooth my pulsating mind.
Confidence flooding from it,
Intelligence raining from it.

Love,
To sum it up in a single breath,
Love and love and life and love and you.

And what more is there?
What more is there but sleeplessness?
What more is there but tears?
What more is there but holding
Clinging
Clawing into any sign of love there is
And hoping it doesn’t shake you free.
What more is there but wrapping
Coiling into life
Winding around it,
Devouring it,
And yourself
And the sun
And the moon
And the stars?
What more is there but hoping?
Hoping for love?
Hoping for life?
Hoping for understanding?
Hoping that today will not be the day you die?
Or that someone you know does?
Hoping that “sorry” will stop coming up
Because there is already so much
To be sorry for
And so much of it is worse
Than what you’re apologizing for?

Hoping for more hope.


A slight breath.
A sigh.
Silence.
Walking next to you,
Trying to match your pace,
Your strong legs.
Hoping the stars will fall and we will see beauty.

The Best - 02/06/11

Starlight.
Brilliant bands of hope
Radiating from what might be already dead stars
And yet still shining
Glowing
Illuminating the nights
On which we throw tear ridden eyes to the heavens
For a sign

“Do I continue?”
“Am I good enough?”
“What’s the point?”



I want to be the best.
The very best.
I don’t care what at.

School is out of the question.
Years of striving for a
4.0
Brought down
Like a house of cards.

I’m not the best friend.
I’m a liar.
Sorry to disappoint,
But I’m not actually
“fine.”

I thought I could be the best
Girlfriend.
Loving, tender, helpful, horny.
What more could a guy want?
But I’m needy.
And clingy.
And not the best.

And then
One tournament
I got a first place.
True, it was in a room of novices.
True, I couldn’t beat anyone with experience.
True, I wasn’t the best of the best.

But I was the best.

That thought flooded my mind
And the tears stopped,
Mid-roll.

But I was the best.

The starlight lit up on the cloudy night
Curled up next to me
Whispered with the delicacy of a lover

But I was the best.

The starlight held me there with it,
One of its own,
Its kin,
Alike to it,
Part of it,
Accepted,
Welcomed,
Loved.

 But starlight disappears behind the clouds,
Behind eyelids,
Behind quick words.

Starlight fades to hurt,
To pain,
To sadness,
To emptiness with her neck craned to the sky,
Waiting for the stars to return

Black Light - 11/21/10

If you need me,
I’ll be in space
Come and find me
Take me someplace
Bright

Rain casts light
In the night
As we walk
And we talk
The streetlights
Illuminate
My heart
So bright

All I Need Is A DNR And Some Pixie Dust - 07/06/10

So if I’m dreaming
Please don’t wake me
If I’m happy
Don’t disturb me
It’s better than reality
By far
Breathing in music
And dancing on stars
And swimming through pavement
As easily
As sliding down a rainbow
But I guess
You wouldn’t know
No, not a single clue
But that’s you
And this is me
And I am I
Would you like to change it?
Good luck
Say I don’t have to be like this
And it’s true
But I also don’t have to be like me
What if this is me?
And this is me
Me, dancing on dew drops
Lighter than nothing
Those who know everything
Must know nothing
Cuz everything
Is something,
Even if it’s nothing
Cuz we're all nothing,
But to me,
You’re everything