I’ve lived my life
For being genuine,
Others are loved,
Your lips tasted like heaven
But you left traces of
Down my throat.
II. We loved.
When our skin brushed,
The wound on my thigh somehow rooted into
Buttresses of your veins.
It poisoned your heart and
Robbed your breath away.
III. I left.
That night when your eyes burnt
In liquor wildfire…
I could smell her perfume on our bed
And taste the vanilla on your lips
While tears seared my cheeks like a bitter blizzard.
Ode by Arthur O’Shaughnessy
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers
And sitting by desolate streams;
World losers and world forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world’s great cities.
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire’s glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song’s measure
Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o’erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world’s worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.
I like this poem because it’s not only beautiful, but fitting on so many different levels to my life and who I am.