Manila

There are black clouds above Manila

tiny islands tiny lights, roads winding

Into towns into staircases tiny causeways

to your heart

There are black clouds above Manila

little lights little surfers little sands

little sparks

maybe someday

little lanterns

write their way

into your heart

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You Start Dying Slowly

By Martha Medeiros:

You start dying slowly

if you do not travel,

if you do not read,

If you do not listen to the sounds of life,

If you do not appreciate yourself.

You start dying slowly

When you kill your self-esteem;

When you do not let others help you.

You start dying slowly

If you become a slave of your habits,

Walking everyday on the same paths…

If you do not change your routine,

If you do not wear different colours

Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.

You start dying slowly

If you avoid to feel passion

And their turbulent emotions;

Those which make your eyes glisten

And your heart beat fast.

You start dying slowly

If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,

If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,

If you do not go after a dream,

If you do not allow yourself,

At least once in your lifetime,

To run away from sensible advice…

Ivy

Scattered pencils

attic,

Green

You left our memories in the hallway

Wishing somewhere, someday

make it all come back.

Sleepy wide eyed, wondered

Pictures paintings, slumbered

You woke from grasp

we clutched my heart

exploded, stars

Press these vines against your chest

let them climb inside your veins

overgrown, rush

let them hold your tangled heart

Sometimes things are better left

unforgotten

Bookends

I want to devour those pages

those words, intoxicating fantasy

the pit in my stomach,

Ravage you, cover to cover

I want to feel your cobblestones against the soles of my feet and revel in the sunshine playing off of your shoulders

The window gaze reflecting sharply searing into my consciousness

Take me down a little dirt road to faraway England where the sun shines down on the fields of peat

Take me through forests

Replete with dew

The smell of cinder in the trees

Take me through twists and turns to that old bar

Brett Ashley smoking in the corner

lazy gaze of wine, drunk, and afternoon glistening in her eyes

Take me running through glittering cities

breathless

the grates hitting our heels endless causeways

and then lead me back to that forgotten orange

Sitting in the fruit bowl placed up high

Long gone summers, kisses, laughter

Take me through those corners and tell me why you always keep the light on in that empty room just in case

I want to feel those corners like they’re mine

Memorize the pages, run them across my tongue like aged honey

Filling my chest like love found,

Like love lost.

Take me back to the time we were sitting in that old Chevrolet and the dust was catching the sun just right across the windshield, lazy day in 1979

You put your sunglasses on and kissed me and everything felt like cigarette smoke and sunshine.

-mh

Rivers

You tiptoed away into the forest

the leaves fell sylvan green

branches crossed light filtered through

the specks of light turned shadows

 

You looked back at me a moment

I thought I felt your hand against mine

 

it was just the warmth of the sun trickling through the trees.

 

And when the fog lifted

rubble, boots, rivers

the things you whispered still floating in the air

 

I realized that it was just me.