Original Poem: UNREQUITED

UNREQUITED

In this fictional world she lived in, I was
a lonely ice cube in her Long Island ice tea.

She was a passing snowstorm
and I a simple snowflake.

She was a hurricane
and I a gentle gust of wind.

She would shout and I would whisper.
She would bawl and I would shed
maybe one tear, one tear too many
and she could talk a mile a minute
and I could sometimes
speak no words at all.

She was the Blair to my Serena,
the Thelma to my Louise,
the Monica to my Rachel.

Except I loved her with everything,
everything I ever had. But all I ever was
was a twinkling star in her entire galaxy.
Just a little crater on her
luminous moon.

Original Poem: To The Girl Who Loves You Next

I hope you know that when he says
‘five minutes’ – he means fifteen.
And his favourite colour is blue,
kind of, it’s actually mostly green.
But never tell him when he is wrong,
because he isn’t keen to admit
things like that, he’s stubborn too,
you just have to get on with it.
I hope you listen when he is sad.
It’s not often, he doesn’t like to cry,
because his tears taste like salt to him
and he’ll never tell you why.
He’ll never cook you dinner, but
it’s definitely for the best, as his
specialty is tea and toast, and sometimes
fresh lemonade, but not the kind to fizz.
I hope you enjoy the music he shows you
because they’ll contain his every thought.
He’ll teach you about your own self worth,
even though this cannot be taught.
And i hope you know how lucky
you are, to have him all the time.
Some of us don’t have the luxury
of saying ‘oh yeah, he’s mine’.

And Even Though // original poem

And even though

I wrap myself up in the scent you left behind,
intertwined beneath your bed sheets
and even though you aren’t here anymore
the smell of you lingers so pleasantly
through my entire being.

And even though it hurts so much
being without you, I can’t stand
the thought of losing
the only thing you left behind,
so I stay there,
wrapped up in your dirty laundry.

And I miss the way we used to be,
a tangle of fingers, and thumbs,
and sloppy kisses, and naked bodies.
Like how you used to get your hands
caught in my hair in the frantic manor
in which we made love.

When things turned sour,
I thought I’d never again
see the glorious sunshine,
even as it poured through my open window.

I cried for you every single night for a year.
I could have picked anyone and I’d still choose you.
You are the reason I breathe.

I lay in your musk, sweat, aura and
clutch at the memory of what used to be,
of you and of me.

I still roll around between your silky sheets
and wait for your return,
even if I’m waiting years.

And even though things may hurt,
I still leave a little something,
for underneath your tree.

The best poetry I’ve ever read 

A litany for survival- Audre Lorde

Cordon Negro- Essex Hemphill 
Where do you enter- Nikki Giovanni

Lineage- Margaret walker

The night rains hot tar- lance jeffers

Bullet points- Jericho brown

A small needful fact- Ross gay

Black lady Lazarus- diamond sharp 

Bird on the wire- Leonard Cohen

If it is the summer of 2009- Hanif Abdurraqib

Praise song- Nate Marshall 

What they did yesterday afternoon- warsan shire

Self portrait in case of disappointment- safia elhillo

Elegy- aracelis girmay

Gravity- angel nafis

Let me handle my business, damn- Morgan Parker

Summer, somewhere- danez smith

I, too- Langston Hughes 

Half caste- John agard 

Having a coke with you- Frank O’hara

Dance me to the end of love- Leonard Cohen

Phenomenal woman- maya angelou

Where the sidewalk ends- Shel Silverstein

If you forget me- Pablo Neruda

I carry your heart with me- EE Cummings

The road not taken- Robert Frost

A dream within a dream- Edgar Allen Poe

There is another sky- Emily Dickenson 

Life is fine- Langston Hughes 

A girl- Ezra Pound

Messy room- Shel Silverstein 

To my wife- oscar Wilde

Still I rise- Maya Angelou

Let America be America again- Langston Hughes

To you- Walt Whitman

Stopping by woods on a snowy evening- Robert frost 

Metaphors- Sylvia Plath 

I wandered lonely as a cloud- William Wordsworth 

Funeral blues- WH Auden 

Touched by an angel- maya angelou 

The raven- Edgar Allen Poe 

Do not go gentle into that good night- Dylan Thomas 

A word to husbands- Ogden Nash 

A life- Sylvia Plath

I’m not yours- Sara Teasdale

All the worlds a stage- William Shakespeare

A poison tree- William Blake

Daddy- Sylvia Plath 

A red, red rose- Robert burns 

I know why the caged bird sings- maya angelou

Happiness- Raymond carver

Alone- Edgar Allen Poe 

The road not taken- Robert frost 

Cold dark corner- Blake Duffy 

Lady Lazarus- Sylvia Plath 

Love letter/Suicide note?

Is this a love letter? where I’ll talk about;

the spectacular colours in your eyes,

and the mesmerising sound of your voice, 

and how the rhythm of your heart beat 

creates magenta patterns in my own. 

Where I’ll write your name in the finest ink

Is this a love letter?
Is this a suicide note?

Where I’ll talk about;

the bitter coldness in your eyes,

and the anger in your voice,

and how I cannot hear your heart beat

even with my head upon your chest.

Where I’ll write your name in my own blood

And crave every pain you could give me

Is this a suicide note? 

Friend zoned by a Feminazi

Friend zoned by a Feminazi

I do apologise, for telling you lies, about what I had in mind.

I talk too much, and smile as such, and you mean to wind me up.

A brief hug, this does not mean love, yet you still try to fit me like a glove.

You buy me drinks, too often wink, boy please just stop and think.

I say ‘stop’ and ‘can you not’ but you say ‘baby you’re so hot.’

I push you away, we call it a day, ‘you’re such a tease’ you always say.

You were my friend, but now it’ll end, because it was friendship you didn’t intend.

How naive was I, to think you a nice guy, to fuck me was all you would try. 

I didn’t know, this was part of a show, so now you need to go.

As we part ways, your mind will erase, the pain on my face, as I hid from your embrace.