4400 Deer View Road, Downstairs, To the Right

It wasn't exactly supposed to be a bedroom

I mean, it was probably intended to be more like

a small toyroom

a storage room

or a sitting room.

That's not to say I was mistreated

although I never understood why my twin sister

demanding her own room

meant me moving

down the hall

into the smaller room.

But after a while, I was glad I got the room

It had one big picture window

that looked out onto the yard.

Of course, the window did start at ground level

so the only thing I saw was the dirt underneath

the deck.

It had just enough room to squeeze in

one trundle bed

one bureau

and one nightstand.

It went through a lot of themes

jungle first

complete with a potted palm tree

and neon green, high-gloss walls.

Then dragons

I am not sure why that ever happened

it was a boy's bedspread

black dragons with Asian script.

After that was Hawaiian

bright blues and greens

with hibiscus flowers.

And then we moved

I miss that room.

I spent most of my formative years there

Well, junior high anyway.

why i hate darkness and times to stop and be still (shadow poem)

lying awake at night

looking up at what I

know to be a ceiling

even though I can't see it

I hear you breathing next to me

and I hate you

because the love you have for me

the love I can feel and hear and taste

the love I don't have to assume exists

well, that love wouldn't be alive

if she still was

The Best Kind of Laziness (Witnessing Poem)

The grass around my body is smooth and soft

it tickles the bare skin that touches it

my fingers and toes and elbows and ankles

feel the organic realness of this grass

better than any man-made carpet

this is God's carpet

I look up at God's ceiling

there is one fluffy cloud

white, buoyant and happy

not lonely in its aloneness

I resolve to watch this cloud

relentlessly, until I can't see it anymore

but relentlessly is a harsh word

to describe watching a cloud pass overhead

the way I watch it is more contentedly

and full of dreaming

and less like a watch dog or a prison guard

and more like the slow lapping of waves

on a quiet shore

or the soft whisper of the wind

through the screen of a porch

Harjo Poem

All roads lead to obscurity.

The collection of items on my desk is
random interesting depressing

Nyquil, Dayquil, two old cups of tea
glasses
earrings
pennies
And on the shelves are rows and rows of books
Rand
Hemingway
Salinger
And the top shelf is even more eclectic
Two potted cacti
ten boxes of tea
A cup of paintbrushes
And all this makes me ask is
what’s
the
point?

Brenda Jones Response Poem

The Disconnect

I will paint them all in those colors

the dismal, unfamiliar ones

but I will paint myself

in the familiar, beloved shades

I will paint myself likable and red

healthy, happy, and dancing

but the other women will be gray

and olive, and even cold and naked

but I will be clothed and beautiful

despite their wrinkled and despairing faces

I will stand set apart from my women

cisneros poem #1

(a tiny bit of)Life

The Perks of Being A Wallflower
is carefully perched
open on my desk
with the spine in the air
and half the book
leaning on either side
like a very small
teepee

Karen O is singing about
worried shoes
and my shoeless foot
is tapping
to the beat of her
sad sounding song

My old and worn
shoes are sitting
on the floor
open wide
expectant and welcoming
like two mouths
happy and in the middle
of a laugh
not looking the least bit
worried

The window is open
revealing sunshine
and letting the spring breeze
blow through
like the first glimpse of
hope after a long period
of despair
or at least snow and ice

Right now, I know exactly what
Charlie meant when he said
“I feel infinite”
like no matter what
this moment is here
and it is small
and it is simple
but it is happy

Slam Poem.

piece of cake

sharing a dorm room with your twin sister isn’t
the piece of cake that everyone assumes it would be.

living with someone I’ve lived with my entire life
and who has lived with me her entire life
gives us certain liberties that
most friends don’t take with each other

most friends or random roommates
are too scared to say how they really feel
or complain about unwashed dishes and dirty laundry

not us.
most people end up biting their tongue,
and not yelling about stupid things like
toothpaste caps left off and light switches left on.
again, not us.
many people silently dislike their
roommate’s habits
be they unbearably messy or freakishly clean.

there is nothing silent about our dislike.

most people don’t bring up their
roommate’s hypocrisy on the subject
of their demands of the lights being off when they sleep
even though they don’t always turn off the light if they’re not
the one sleeping.
oh, we bring it up.
the average person doesn’t deliberately
think of ways to annoy their roommate
because they know their pet peeves so well.

well, we do.

however, most normal, unrelated people
suffer a sort of awkward, drawn out stony silence
when a fight does erupt.
we don’t.
many people end up internalizing their deepest
and darkest dislikes about their roommate’s habits
until one day, they explode.

we internalize nothing.

most people tread carefully around their roommate’s feelings
but also tread carefully around deserved apologies.
where others tiptoe, we stomp.
we aren’t afraid to fight, yell, and huff out the door.
but we also aren’t afraid to sheepishly walk back in
four and a half minutes later.

we really aren’t.
fights may last a few minutes
or maybe even an excruciatingly long day.
but most people’s fights don’t end in laughter and genuine forgiveness.

ours do.