Sunday Sprinkle: him + me

him + me 

a lot of initials have been carved

into me over the years

they are now scars on my bark

I used to be beautifully untouched

until there was me + him

first mark

[him + me] [me + him]

that’s what I thought they’d be

black letters etched

they have collected on my trunk

a trail has been worn around me

a romantic gesture permanently traced

Sunday Sprinkle: Somewhere Out There

Somewhere Out There

            Standing on my balcony in Kansas

and the most I hear is the hum of a generator,

a couple random birds, and an obnoxious duck.

The quietest my life has been since I don’t even know.

            It’s a Saturday night, too.

My soul doesn’t know how to stand still like the tree I’m seeing.

In this quiet concrete moment, I know there are thousands

of people in stadiums watching a game. My soul can hear the bustle of traffic

and people trying to find a parking spot in the city. She can hear

the clank of dishes and glasses being served at ritzy restaurants and busy bars.

            Ah, the mood lighting.

Someone is tasting sweet wine on their lipstick lips.

And some guy has his eye on her.

But no drop of makeup on me tonight.

Instead of a tight short skirt that’s worn by ladies across the world,

            it’s tight yoga pants for me.

I may not be participating in the world tonight, but I wonder

if I’m running through someone’s thoughts or if my name is being said

            or sitting on someone’s tongue.

Is someone thinking about sending me a text,

but deleting it before they press send? Is someone wishing

I were right there next to them laughing and carrying on? Does someone want me

to tell them a story right now?

            Does someone’s bed feel empty?

Are my pictures being looked at and are my words being read?

I might not be out there tonight, but part of my soul is somewhere out there.

She’s out there as someone is having a first kiss and others are

stumbling out of bars drunk and getting into cabs.

            She’s out there.

Floating across time zones. She left me at home. She knows I need the rest.

Sunday Sprinkle: X.X.

X.X.

a smile for you, Jake

I.

One day after class, we sat on my couch and we resembled

high schoolers in college-kid bodies the way we sat side-by-side

and flirted and giggled. And how he doodled two stick-figure people

on my thigh with his pen from school. One of the characters had

real tall hair. I took a picture of it and didn’t wash it off right away.

II.

With a cheesy horror flick on that he rented for us,

we laid on the living room floor atop my pink quilt blanket.

I laid on my stomach as I talked to him.

My finger gently tracing the tattoo on the inside of his arm – JG

It was the night he kissed me for the first time.

III.

I was standing on the patio of the bar he had first recommended

to me months before. Before he started working there.

The bar I went out to for the very first time.

He was working that night as a bouncer.

He came out the door to the patio charging straight toward me.

Almost the way he would if he saw a fight beginning.

Without saying a word, he pulled me in and gave me a big kiss.

It felt like to him I was the only girl there. The only one that mattered.

IV.

In the back alley of the bar, I was about to walk home with a friend

and he snuck away from his job and he kissed me quickly and told

her to protect me and keep me safe, “because she is awesome,” he said.

V.

After he helped me load up my car for my summer back home,

we stood in the living room of my place and I had my arms around his neck.

I kissed those big lips of his and his gorgeous smile.

I put my hands on his cheeks to feel the scruff on his face

and he asked, “Are you going to miss me?”

My head shook the biggest yes it could.

Long before I knew the kind of missing it would be.

Sunday Sprinkle: (A Sketch)

This is a sketch of a poem I started earlier this year. I wanted to show you all the starting points. I hope to eventually add to this and play with more nature-like comparisons. Once it is revised and polished, you can see the differences and evolution of the poem. 

Title is still yet to be imagined

You're a big gulp of fresh air.
The kind after a spring rain that lasts all day.
When the lungs are woken up from winter.

You're the breath that's caught
after stepping out of the car for the night.
When you look up at the sky sprinkled with stars.

You're the vines I want to get tangled up in.
The ones that grow together.

Sunday Sprinkle: 'Round Midnight by Kim Addonizio

Poem by Kim Addonizio

'Round Midnight 

In the book I’m reading: hard rain,
spike heels on pavement,
a man waiting in a rented room

to draw a woman down onto his bed.
She’s the wrong woman,
she’s a car wreck in a silk dress

and he can’t wait to touch her.
No plot without desire,
the more desperate the better.

I look up to find that here, too,
it’s raining. And now that I’m back
in my own quiet life

I feel like a character who’s barely
been imagined yet, just a name
wearing a faded T-shirt,

reaching for her glass of cold wine.
If only the river would surge into the streets,
if only a tree would uproot itself

or the roof fly off in a funnel of black wind.
Such is my life: A minute ago I was happy,
immersed in a book. Now I feel misery

only violence could cure. Now
I have to invent a story
to drag me out into the city,

toward music and grainy light
and the wrong men, I have to discover
what it is that I want

And who I’m going to have to hurt to get it.

Sunday Sprinkle: Charmed Drawings

This poem is an old favorite of mine. I wrote it as an exercise and practice for myself while I was taking poetry classes in college. It's an imitation poem of Kim Addonizio's "A Childhood" from her book, Tell Me. The lines follow a specific ABCD pattern and are repeated in different ways. It was really fun to follow such a narrow structure with repetition while trying to show a story. 

Charmed Drawings

We walked home under the stars

after a late night at the bars.

He charms me

the way he always does.

After a late night at the bars

people let their bodies and mouths run free

the way he always did.

I don’t know what draws me to him.

People let their mouths run free.

I have to figure out what to believe

and what draws me to him.

He weakens me.

I try to figure out what to believe.

I wonder if he even likes me.

He weakened me

and I decide to go home with him.

I wonder if he even likes me.

I kiss him anyway.

After all, I went home with him

because I’m drawn to him.

I kiss him anyway

because he charmed me

because he knew I’m drawn to him

when we walked home under the stars.

Sunday Sprinkle: Redecorate

This piece is from November 2013. I remember the process of creating this. It took a weekend to crank this out and the whole time drafting and revising, I only listened to Say Something by A Great Big World featuring Christina Aguilera. I like thinking about the writing process and the weird things that spark our creativity. It's also fascinating how a song can put a visual in your mind and heart through your ears. 

Redecorate 

I sit alone with my knees to my chest.

Sitting alone in my heart. It’s big.

And it’s turning cold.

The posters of my past hang on its walls.

They’re starting to crumple & peel away too.

It’s silent. Colors fading.

It feels empty. I’m empty.

I look around at the dust.

The sea of gray all over.

The floor is worn from the people that have come through.

I graze it with my hand thinking about all the possibilities we had

and the moments that made me believe it might be something.

Hurt shows up too.

I throw one of their t-shirts across the room.

It slides against the floor.

I watch it go away like they all did.

I lay down on my side and let my head touch the holy ground.

I forgot it was okay to cry here.

I had almost forgotten how to.

I let go. I let them all go.

I’m waiting for someone to knock.

I’m waiting for someone to stay.

Someone to help me redecorate.

Sunday Sprinkle: A Different Way

This piece was created a long time ago. It's amazing how much people can shake you up. It's also amazing all the different emotions one can feel. I've done a lot of mending and when I revisit poems like this, it's weird to think how much my feelings have changed or how intense I felt things at a certain time. Now those feelings are so different. Another moment in time where I can see my growth through past words I wrote. 

A Different Way

My memories of the view from the night sky

of the Pittsburgh lights brings tears to my eyes.

It’s taking my breath away again, but in a different way.

It doesn’t mean I’ll be seeing you shortly;

that you’ll be meeting me at the airport at 11:40.

I won’t be seeing your face, giving you a hug,

and kissing you for the first time in a month.

My heart is missing you again, but in a different way.

I’m wondering if I’ll ever get to walk up to you

as you look and take me in with your eyes.

My eyes miss seeing you in your glasses

that make you look like the college professor you will be.

My mind won’t let me live a day without thinking about you.

What did you do to me?

You held onto me longer than you should.

You didn’t want to let me go; just couldn’t get enough.

I loved you more than I thought I could.

You like to have what you can’t.

I’m missing you again as my man.

Maybe I really am your lady.

You said, “see you soon” and kissed my runny-nosed face

and I didn’t know it would be in a different way.

Sunday Sprinkle: Star

The following poem was one of the very first poems I ever wrote in my first journal I ever owned in 1998 when I was in kindergarten and first grade.

Star
A star is in
a sky so high
when it's dark.

Sunday Sprinkle: 7th Street

7^th Street

Under the street lights

and the lights illuminated from the bar,

people trickle out of it.

They see us, but we don’t see them.

You’ve got your eyes on me

on the sidewalk of 7^th street

The city is feeling alive.

We’re drunk on the Royals

---high on a series game win

after how long it’s been.

I let you go to first base with me

on the sidewalk of 7^th street

You could hardly wait any longer

---maybe it was a long time coming.

It was a blue October

that overshadowed my blues in September.

Care fell to the ground and I was free

with you on the sidewalk of 7^th street

Sunday Sprinkle: The Dating Scene

                                    The Dating Scene

                                                      We’re both sitting against the wall

                                                      not saying anything at all.

                                                      The life and the party still going on

                                                      and nothing is louder than this song.

                                                      I look and I can see it in your face

                                                      as you wonder if I’m worth the chase.

Sunday Sprinkle: How The Dictionary Discouraged Me

How the Dictionary Discouraged Me

My lack of vocabulary has me discouraged.

Maybe I should have stuck to reading the dictionary that day

as an aspiring 8-year-old wanting to know everything about the world.

I didn’t even get through A.

Maybe I got discouraged.

Or maybe I had gymnastics practice to get to.

Now I wonder what eloquent words I can use in my poetry

because I am discouraged thinking my poems about puppy love,

immature boys, bars, and my broken heart won’t be good enough.

Now they’re really going to think I’m a beauty queen.

I’ve heard you can’t let rejection letters discourage you

and that it means you are one step closer to getting published.

22-years-old and I barely know an inkling of the world,

but I still have the 8-year-old aspirations to know everything I possibly can.

It’s when I think about all the books I still haven’t read, the songs I haven’t listened to,

and the movies I haven’t seen that I get discouraged again. The world is so big.

It’s all about time and what I do with it, really, though.

All this time I have been writing this poem,

I could have looked up synonyms for discouraged in the thesaurus,

which would give this poem flavor, but instead,

I chose to use [discouraged] as a motif.

Did you catch any alliteration earlier? Hmm.

…So maybe I have learned something since being 8-years-old.

Things a dictionary certainly couldn’t teach.

When I wasn’t reading the dictionary, I was experiencing things.

Things I can write about in the first place.

The dictionary won’t read my poetry anyway.

It’s you that I need to relate to.

I can go to the dictionary for help if I need it.

What I need is to continue living life.

You know, that doesn’t sound discouraging.
More like the antonym: inspiring

Sunday Sprinkle: In Retrospect

In Retrospect

In retrospect, jokes become funnier.

Stories become morphed a bit more

after each time they are told.

They are narrated to how we like it.

In retrospect, I dodged a bullet.

In retrospect, hurt becomes dull

like the knives we find in our back

and how color fades over time.

Our bodies don’t feel the pain pricking

at it as hard as it had before.

In retrospect, I was a foolish girl.

It’s in retrospect that we see clearer

and our eyes finally meet the signs

that flashed and waved and burned

bright hoping to be noticed one day.

           

In retrospect, maybe she was a little crazy.          

In dark moments, I tell myself,

In retrospect, this will be nothing.

You are going to look back and ask,

“how did I go through that?”

In retrospect, maybe he did love me.

            Maybe the other one didn’t after all.

In retrospect, it’s amazing because

in those tough moments, we feel like

the weakest person we have ever been,

but when we look back in time, we wonder
how we were ever that strong.

Sunday Sprinkle: Listen

Listen

I want to lay my head on your chest

and listen to your heartbeat.

I want to listen to the beautiful organ

that gives you life; keeps you alive.

I want to listen to his own song.

Instead of waves coming from a seashell,

I’ll listen for him to whisper and spill
all your secrets; about your crush on me.

Sunday Sprinkle: All the Time

All the Time

I’ve never had all of you.

But she does. She has you.

All the time.

Except for the when you see me.

When you send me a message or a text.

When you look at me in a certain way.

When I lay next to you.

I can act like I have you

          for that moment.

But it’s not real.

I’m not your reality.

I’m a fantasy.

Maybe even a goddess.

I’m a high.

A fixation.

A sin.

I’m an attraction.

An infatuation.

I might even live in your imagination.

You live in mine.

Because all I can do is imagine a real life with you.

Just you and me.

All the time.

Sunday Sprinkle: When Rain Falls In Love

When Rain Falls In Love

The first drop of rain kisses the pavement,

more starts to trickle down to earth.

drip, drop.

The water drops all boundaries,

lets the walls down

so it can fall

in love

with the pavement,

in love

with the blades of grass too.

It wants to be soaked up

by the summer soil that needs it

because the rain needs the soil too.

pitter, patter.

The raindrops collide

on life’s railing that I hold on to.

But the rain knows not to clutch

on to the clouds. They let themselves

fall freely in love with the ground.

*Published in Emporia State University student literary journal Quivira 2013

Sunday Sprinkle: Glittered the Sky

Glittered the Sky

At night, I look up to see the stars that glitter the sky.

It takes my breath away for a moment

and then gives it back to let me shine too.

…

Sunday Sprinkle: A Bad Reminder

A Bad Reminder

Somehow, someway, or another

I became your bad reminder.

Not from my actions or anything I said,

but everything you pretended and all that you did.

You can’t escape from the thing you lost.

We didn’t last forever, but I will.

I’ll be in your mind next to all the lies I bought

and the void you’re trying to fill.

The after-taste that won’t go away.

I’m not here to haunt. You choose to stay.

…

Sparkle&Shine.

Rachel

@theglitterylife

facebook.com/glitterandthegirlygirl

Sunday Sprinkle: Fighting For Fireflies

Fighting for Fireflies

I fight for fireflies at night during dark days.

Their bursts of light are shining inspiration.

Like a heart beats; they twinkle.

Keeping my curious spirit alive.

I search for rainbows in storms.

Their colors grace cloudy skies

showing me to cherish the good

as the same as the bad times.

I yearn for butterflies in my stomach.

Their wings flutter, kissing my feelings

all over. Making me tingle from his touch;

teaching me about that 4-letter-word, love.

I dream for girls to love themselves.

Their confident smiles glowing loudly

and their skin breathing fresh air.

Flaw wouldn’t be a word anymore.

I fight for fireflies.

I search for rainbows.

I yearn for butterflies.

I dream for girls.

I write for you.

Sparkle&Shine.

Rachel

@theglitterylife

facebook.com/glitterandthegirlygirl