She claims she likes her/
differentness, what raises/
her above the rest.
OR
She claims she likes her/
uniqueness, that which raises/
her above the rest.
Tag Archives: Email poetry
Why Be A HopeLESS Romantic? Romantic Email Haiku
Shouldn’t a hopeless/
romantic be hopeful and/
hope-filled, not sans hope?
Late Spring Night, Utah Lake: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poem
It is said there are
ten reasons
Walking barefoot can
Heal you
And connect you
With Earth Mother
And her vibe
And her nurturing
And her love,
So you can feel whole
And connected
And in tune again.
I take off my shoes
And leave footprints
In the sand.
I walk out
To the lake water’s edge.
I feel
The universal harmonic
Healing,
Putting me in sync.
The rest of my clothes
Follow and pile
On my shoes.
My glasses,
Too,
So no one can see me.
My toe marks
in the lake
Are quickly scoured
clean
By wavelets
And my wake
As I walk
And walk
And walk
To where my knees
Stay damp.
In the half moonlight
I guess
I look like a white blob
As I lean back
between her cold breasts,
into her firm stomach
And let her
Wash over me
And around me
And through me,
And connect me
And harmonize me
And cleanse me.
I stand.
She
And the east wind
shrink me
So much into myself
That I feel me
In me
And know who I am
As part of her
And it
And all.
Muse Never By Name: Romantic Email Free Verse Poem
Some may call out
their Love
loudly,
in public.
I would never,
by name,
name her who inspires,
uplifts,
motivates me.
She
will be
still.
Quiet.
Unknown
to the world,
known only
to me.
As it should be.
I won’t write
about her,
by name;
by specific reference.
The world would never say:
“This piece about her,
specifically.”
Who was the piece
“Fuer Elise” for?
Who was Elise?
If she is my muse,
I must write about her.
I cannot keep silent
about her.
But no one will ever know,
for sure,
it is her.
Just as God writes about people:
“There was a certain woman …”
keeping her identity
private,
only by inspiration
known.
And if she asks:
“Is it I?”,
I may smile.
Thanks For Miracles: Revolutionary Email Haiku
How do you fully/
thank someone who gifts you a/
new life miracle?
Replicate Like Willows: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poem
As the willows replicate,/
so do I, /
expanding my reach/
as I bow into/
and to/
the Living Water.
And Now, Apple, What? Romantic Email Free Verse Poem
Now, I’ve returned.
Now, we’ve again met.
It was nice seeing
her again.
Now what?
My enthusiasm is not
rampant.
My desire is not
intense,
unlike the past.
But I’m not ambiguous, either.
I’m calm,
waiting,
like sap within
an old apple tree’s roots
after a long winter.
It waits to be warmed
by spring sun’s rays.
To rise up
and flow out
and push the buds
into blossoms
that explode
inscentandcolorandbeauty
and eventually
bear sweet fruit.
Outside, pink-red
like her lips and skin.
Inside, light gold
like her hair,
moist like the sap
that is starting, now, to move.
With stem to twist
and ask,
at harvest,
“Now what?”
Pick, and taste,
and savor the sweetness
and nourishment
.
Or ignore
until the fruit
grows past
what it could have been
and falls,
unnoticed,
to the ground,
where it bruises,
and turns brown
and sour
and rots.
An Open Email To The Insecure: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poem
I’ve been there.
I know,
not exactly,
but partially,
how it feels
to doubt.
I get
that you don’t get
how fabulous you are,
how positive we are.
The dreams we hold
dear,
as children,
as princesses and princes,
or as knights
or court jesters,
get beaten.
We lose.
Instead of dreams,
nightmares.
Or worse.
Because in nightmares
we fight.
We rage,
rage,
against the onslaught,
against the lava
that covers us,
against our pants
falling down,
preventing us from running
until we awaken,
wrapped
and trapped
in the sheets
designed to hold us
and keep us
safe
and warm.
No nightmares
take us to death’s door,
stop our dreaming.
It is the belief
that we can’t.
We fear to close
our eyes,
not because we’ll dream
nightmares,
but because we fear
dreaming
nothing.
That fear
follows us
into life.
We believe
the doubts.
We believe
the nothing.
We see
nichts.
But we are always
wrong.
Even when we are
nothing,
we are something.
The likelihood
of being great
is just as great
as the lie
we believe
of nothing.
You tell me
“I think I am
nothing.”
I tell you
“I think you are
something.”
Which is right?
Even in a straight-up
gamble,
there is fifty percent
likelihood
you are
something.
This is no gamble.
It is real.
You exist.
And because you exist,
you are
something.
How great
your something
is
can be discovered.
If not,
it still exists.
It is there
because
you are here.
You just
have to accept
the fact
that,
no matter how you see
yourself,
(or don’t),
other people are going to see
you.
Most will see you well.
And they
(at this point in your life)
are more likely to be closer
to the truth
than you,
sadly,
are.
Some day you will get back
to seeing yourself
as the awesome
and creative
and talented
and intelligent
and shining
person
you really are.
Right now,
you just
have to take
my word
for it.
Word.
Truth.
Take Your Time: Romantic Found Email Haiku
I’m getting sleepy./
Take all the time that you need./
I will not be there.