Dream House

What do you have to say for this love we built like sand castles

For the way you let my legs drape over your shoulders so that I could use our combined height

To create our dream house

For the way you stood on your tip toes and stretched your arms longer than I have ever witnessed

To build our dream house

For all of the wind and the weather and the waves we ignored to keep building and building, building

To create our dream house

What do you have to say for the fact that we chose a beach and we chose sand

To build our dream house

What do you have to say for the fact that we chose the water but we live in Michigan where it’s cold

What do you have to say for the fact that we took our separate dreams and amputated them from our bodies

To birth our dream house

What do you have to say for the fact that we let these limbs wash away

To create this dream house

What do you have to say- what do you think- what do you think about the separate realities we have attempted to merge

What do you have to say for the fact that I was building a sandy ranch on the beach and you wanted floors, and floors, you wanted a palace

What do you think about the fact that we were both working on the same house but a different dream

What do you have to say about the names I wrote in the sand, how I perfectly merged our names

How nothing ever really stays

in sand- it either blows away, or is crushed, or washes away

What do you have to say. What do you think about the fact that we have not washed away

But the floors of this dream house keep collapsing

Each gust of wind is like a spell against us

To build this dream house

What do you have to say of all the sand covered spells we cast on each other with eyes and tongues

What do you have to say of all the sand covered love we have shared in the sun

When the winter we live in has crept up slowly on our backs

And the tingle on my spine has a name written in the sand but it washed away with ours

And what do you have to say. What do you have to dream about anymore?

Now that the water has come and gone are the walls and the floors and every imaginary door

Of our dream house

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California

Once I went to a land so beautiful I wasn’t sure I’d ever return

My soul would never return

I would forever be changed from the sacred spaces

My soles would forever trace these lovely places

I went to a land I treasured more than anything I had ever owned

Because true beauty cannot be owned

Because I worshipped my travels and sought light in the golden state

I found that humanity is plenty warm

I found a place to spend my days

I found a place so near and dear I craved it even when I was there

I learned I’m much luckier than I thought

I learned that sometimes you don’t make a plan but the universe makes a plan for you

And it works out more perfectly than anything you could’ve constructed in your small mind

Opened by new places

Enamored by these new faces

Something in me has ties to here

And I feel like no matter what I do

I won’t be able to shake this feeling

I am intricately and innately connected to this place

I have longings more complex than I can fathom

I am here for something bigger than myself

I was here to see the world is so much bigger than myself

And my impact is so much farther reaching than I thought

I went to a place that shined a light on my face and showed me the treasure inside

I went to a place and found authentic bliss, then I cried

I went to a place that helped me realize all of my imaginings could be true

They could be truer than true and better than I could’ve ever imagined

I went to a place that showed me this life

Is better than I imagined

I went to a place that filled me up but left me wanting and needing more

I went to a place that tied a string on my heart

I went to a place that changed me permanently

Taught me the difference between permanent and temporary

And that I better start working on my life now because we don’t wait for the future

The future is now and my future is here

I am tied to a place without me and I am tied to a life and a dream where I can thrive in this space

I dream of a life thriving on exactly what I’ve been doing with my time here

I can see the future and the future is a shade of gold only my eyes can register

I went to a land that brought me my future

And brought me hope

I went to a land so beautiful it broke me

And promised I could be whole again if I would ever return

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This Life

And I am thankful

For all

For all of the relationships gone awry

All of the fuckboys

Who brought hate

Into my life

For the confusion

Over every single multitude

Of my identity

For all the nights I laid

Awake and cried

And wondered why

For the fact that I

Was afforded the small luxuries

Of paper and pen

Of a home and of Zen

Of a path with enough cracks

To reflect

Something so magical and twisted

Of a life

Filled with heartache and bizarre

Happiness in the most accidental places

Of new beginnings everyday

Of something I am

Always longing for

Yet never reaching

For without my words

For without poetry

My story would not have been told

And without this life

There would have been nothing to tell.

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Let me be your poem

Call me poetry

I want to be the one

That falls off your tongue

Like a raindrop on a window

Like my head on your pillow

Call me your spiral bound

I wish to contain your thoughts

Feed me your aspirations

With passion open me up

Let me be your sacred word

A phrase so delicate

It holds together by

The perfect syllabic arrangement

So gentle so wise

Let me be your poem

Breathe out my entirety

One by one each side of me

Dazzle the crowds with your proclamation

Pen me up like your divine creation

Let me be your canvas

For your dreams, your lack thereof

All your mediocre frustration

I will be the series of thoughts

That follows you home

And holds the crevices of your deep dark mind together

Let me be your favorite one

Let me twist inside your mouth

And inflate your lungs

Let me bring you to the purest moment of joy

When the letters intertwine

Every stanza a splendid spell

Something I can do so well

Let me encompass your soul

I can make you feel whole

Your stomach will be so damn full

When you absorb everything I am

Let me be your sticky sweet jam

Let me be your delight and surprise

As you scan and you scan and you scan the lines

Let me be your little white lie

A writer tells himself to cope

Let me be the last word that runs

Through your brain at night

Let me be your little aching ever alluring

Poetic strand of hope.

1/30/16

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An Ode to Yoga, and the Way in which it brings me closer to myself

Imagine the most relaxed you could be

Imagine every little worry

Melting off your back

As you roll out your mat

And you forget where you’re at

The only sound becomes your breath

The only smell perhaps your sweat

Each time may vary in intensity

But you’re always in tune with reality

As you center your thoughts

And you become lost

In the transcendence of your own movements

Palms and soles sink deeper

Mind becomes clearer

Each breath fills you

With more life than the last

Each moment could last forever

This time you come to savor

Gratitude is the only flavor

And there’s nothing more you want

Than to fulfill this hour of solitude

Each shape you form-

Imperfect like you

But you appreciate that your body can move

In such magnificent ways

This is how you want to spend your days

So you realize when you’re done

You have only just begun

Your journey inward

All you see is yourself

Oh, your heart pours over with wealth.

yoga

My Take On: The Paris Wife

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I am a lover of classic books. I have been since the first one I read. So you can imagine my enjoyment at the discovery of a book on one of my favorite classic authors, Ernest Hemingway. The Paris Wife by Paula Mclain is historical fiction, written in the voice of Hadley Richardson, Hemingway’s wife. Before I read this book, I knew nothing of Ernest’s life besides an involvement with war, so reading it to me was a surprise on every page- and I loved it that way. I absolutely adore this book and I now consider it one of my top five favorites. From the first encounter of the two lovers, I was hooked. Ernest and Hadley had a chemistry almost uncommon today. Hadley’s perspective is so well exemplified that it is easy to become her in the story, to lose yourself in the dazzle of their love. From the beginning, they were troubled. Ernest’s relationship with his family was tense and both Hadley and Ernest had lost their fathers to suicide. Hadley was perhaps the one with the least feeling of promise, but when she became involved with Ernest that changed. He struggled as a writer throughout their entire relationship, and Hadley surrendered herself to the success of his dream. Her affection for piano never really blossomed into any success, and Hadley found herself jealous of various objects of adoration to Ernest. Ernest was privileged to be mentored by some of the most notable writers of all time, including Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound, but even those relationships grew increasingly strained over time. Through all of this, Ernest and Hadley traveled wherever work took Ernest or wherever they desired. The imagery used to paint Paris is so vivid and lively one feels global just reading of their accounts. Travel is truly echoed as something of importance through Hadley’s words. Throughout their adventures, I grew eager to settle myself in various spots across the globe. As simple as it sounds, the world is a place to find yourself, and an even better place to revel in love. The reader comes to respect and trust Hadley’s opinions, as it is her voice that provides us with such a remarkable journey. One of the most noteworthy places they resided was Spain, where Ernest became somewhat obsessed with the Running of the Bulls. Others reviled at the violence of such a “sport”, but Ernest loved the bravado of the fighters and the intrigue of the edge of life and death. As we discover Ernest’s interests we grow to really know him. A headstrong man with passion for multiple endeavors in life, we really root for his and Hadley’s relationship, even as tumult continues. The arrival of a child, affectionately named Bumby, further surrenders Hadley of her singularity. But she remains a strong force of a woman. She voices her opinions and concerns often to Ernest, and though blood boils, their love remains ignited for what seems an infinity. Hadley finally sees meaning in her life when she is with Ernest. The couple basically becomes each other and it is joked by Hadley, “eventually every wife gets her husband’s feet.” All of their friends adore them together and see them as the epitome of what love should be. This book is an emotional journey for the reader, and even as things start to really fall apart, it seems worth it. I won’t spoil what comes to be of the couple, but I can assure you it is well worth the journey. I came out of the novel with an understanding of both Ernest Hemingway and Hadley Richardson, and a new look on love. My absolute favorite quote from the book is “No one you love is ever truly lost.” This speaks volumes for what life means in the end. Through tragedy and bliss, seduction and falling outs, love provides a higher meaning than what singular life could ever mean. We involve ourselves in others’ lives for happiness, and though tangled these relationships may be, they save us for a time. Though something great may only be temporary, it is beautiful for that time and provides meaning well beyond its years. One human can tolerate a lot, love many, accomplish much, but still suffer greatly. Some suffer beyond words and cope in ways we do not approve, but love remains our greatest possible offering. For all those years, throughout that journey, her life with Ernest, Hadley was the Paris wife. And that was exactly who she wanted to be.

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