Careful, He Adores Deeply

If I could paint the world the way you see it,
I’d have to use colors and shapes that have
Only existed previously in the psychedelic
Walls of your mind.
I only wish that I could see that same
Ships that rocket across your closed eyelids and
Soar between the complexity of your heart
And the simplicity of your actions.

I want to help you find the
pieces that fall in between the spaces
Left where you have been broken.
Nobody warned me ‘please be
Careful, he adores deeply.
Please openly love, listen and remember, devotion
doesn't always come in the same form that
you desire it to.
And in his strength he is fragile,
And he cares about what he cares about
And has yet to learn how to care about everything else.'
Yet somehow I still understand you
without a caution sign, getting that the way
in which you view life soars beyond even the
psychedelic experiences of less extraordinary people.

You only express to me how you feel when
You know that I need it,
For I should already know that the way I see us in
My heart is also what you see,
Except you leave it undefined, unlabeled, and
What feels like neglected until I remember ‘be
Careful, he adores deeply’
More deeply than I can reach
More deeply than you can express
And most of all, more deeply than
What this world is prepared for.

Generally, Each Note Often Reveals Another

We match.
In the times where I am most voluminous,
You reflect on the world quietly,
And when I fall into silence,
You fill it with the things I wish I could say.
Sometimes we aren’t very poetic,
And our wise moments seldom coexist, but

We match.
The music in your feet syncs
With the music in my voice
And the music in our minds is in harmony
Even if we are jamming in different genres.
Generally, each note often reveals another,
And you’ve helped reveal me to myself.

We match.
Laughing at the same things,
And knowing it’s okay to cry,
Though we probably won’t.
Still, crying is an option moreso
Than it has been in our entire lives.

We match.
Knowing the things we wish we could articulate
Without needing to say anything,
And being so strong in friendship
That we don’t need to hope we stay friends
Because we simply will.
I will stay with you through the ups and downs
Because no one matches me like you do
And nobody else can match like

We match.

Love Under Construction is Loud, Lively, Excellent

You are beautiful, brilliant, outrageous, and fabulous,
So it is only understandable that you desire the exact same
From someone else, but you desire such perfection.
Even your view of flawed perfection is beyond
All levels of ability contained within average people.
Extraordinary is something that can only be seen after
We’ve learned to love what is ordinary.
And I only wish that you’d allow someone to
Love you the best they can until you can grow together
And you both learn to love even better.
Love under construction is loud, lively, excellent,
And so far from perfect that it is beautiful,
So far from flawless that it is magnificent,
And so ridiculous that everything feels just right.
Know that you deserve the best,
But that the best love comes in many forms,
And the realest love can rise from the greatest dysfunction.
And your love is far too
Beautiful,
Brilliant,
Outrageous,
And fabulous
To go to waste.
So let go,
Breathe,
And just love.

Friend Zone

You're the extra sparkle upon my
already smiling face,
the frosting and sprinkles upon my
delicious but dysfunctional cake.

You could be the world,
a beautifully flawed learner,
poetry seeping from your pores
and pain ridden confusion hiding in your eyes.

I do not aim to save you from yourself
but I'd love to make you smile
and be a small part of your journey to
discover that there will be
happiness in healing,
power in vulnerability, and
beauty in breakdown.

I will not become your foundation,
nor your walls,
your roof,
or your windows,
but I can help you decorate,
or be some area of coziness
where you can escape, be warm
and spill coffee on the floor,
because though you hoped otherwise,
you are not spill proof.

And though your heart may be broken and leaky,
it's worth holding on to,
and I can put a cute bandage on
this beautiful mess and know that
you will heal and your
heart will beat stronger
and you can feel safe in this moment
with me.

Imitation Poem.

I think you are most yourself when we are alone;

Breaking silences with laughter from inside jokes,

The funny way you smile, your cheeks red and eyes gleaming

As though you are caught between joy and sorrow.

You are neither flawless nor imperfect

At understanding who you are.

You wouldn’t be the greatest friend, love

But you’d never be less than amazing.

I think of how different everything might have been

Had I judged you for the money, friends, habits you have

Your unreliability.

But I always thought I was drowning

In the icy distance between us,

I always thought your heart was moving too slowly to save me,

When you were loving as deeply as you can.

Pictures & Thoughts.

It is said that a picture is worth
a thousand words,
but millions of pictures couldn't
possibly capture what I want to
say to you.
I love you.

I love you softly, but it hurts and
I love you definitely, but I am so unsure.
I love you slowly, but everything is moving so fast.
I love you with all that I am
but I have so little left to give.

If you can picture it,
think of the ocean, deep and seemingly endless
connecting everything that is beautiful.
Think of perfectly content sleep,
lost in dreams and emerging completely energized and relaxed.
Think of a sunny day, warm rays of sun and a smooth breeze
making my summer dress brush against my skin.
Think of the perfect kiss, locked lips interrupted by smiles,
goosebumps appearing on skin at each touch.

Most of all, think of me.
Picture my face and my heart,
and think of how I yearn for you
with every cell of my being,
and know that if I could paint a picture of love,
I'd cover my canvas with you.

Short.

Our love was like reflective street signs,
appearing so distant until
we've hit and passed them,
moving more quickly than
we'd realized on a one way
street to which we'll never return.

The heart is capable of such sacrifice.
Slow down,
Turn around
and walk back in the direction of love.

Jimi Hendrix

I do not apologize for making music my religion,
For being one with every note that
you found to be unorthodox
while I felt each one to be distinctly beautiful.

I do not apologize for making it all seem effortless
Because blues is easy to play but difficult to feel,
And I felt the music
Pulsing in every cell of my body.

I do not apologize for feeling as though craziness and
Heaven are the same place or for believing that
Knowledge speaks but wisdom listens or that
When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.

I do not apologize for living the way I desired
For sacrificing the things I loved for the love of music
Or for putting my faith in the world upon
Letting the music set us all free.

I do not apologize for when 6 became 9
When the wind cried Mary
When the foxy lady made me want to scream
Or when we all became bold as love.

Most of all, I do not apologize for dying,
I played, I lived, I loved, and I kissed the sky.
I urge you not to mourn, for I was not invincible,
And my castle was no more safe from the sea than anyone else’s.

Waltorrrr.

In poetry class, we were told to write poems that were about figures that everyone in the room would know. I chose one of my close friends, Walter, as my muse. Fortunately, he's read this and greatly approves of it. So no, I am not a creeper.

As I flip my hair back and smile into the crowd
I know that there is an unreasonable amount of people
that are paying close attention to the sparkle in my smile.
This smile, upon a face I wake up to every morning,
is not only staring back at me in my mirror,
but in the newspaper,
on posters,
and on brochures.
The resident celebrity,
known by all,
admired by many,
hated by none.
They all expect me to do great things,
and I will,
with the eyes of the university always watching me.
I keep smiling,
running from meeting to meeting,
representing various organizations,
exceeding expectations by leaps and bounds,
and speaking to everyone that I possibly can,
so they can know me
and know that failure is not an option,
and the only person that can and will control my success is me.
So I keep running and running,
my body aching,
my mind exhausted,
hoping that I can find myself between
now and my next obligation.

Reefer Madness.

Another creative writing class product.

“Even at lower doses marijuana impairs attention and coordination and affects the way the mind processes information. 50 percent of individuals aged 18 to 25 used the drug at least once.” – Marijuana Fast Facts at Justice.gov

(based on true events/conversations)

I wonder how many of our waking hours are spent being high…

If I were a mystical creature, I’d definitely be a

Color changing,

Size changing,

Breed changing,

Sometimes invisible dog.

Who would ever try to argue with a giant blue Saint Bernard with a barrel of whiskey around its neck?

That’s a big barrel of whiskey.

I wonder if a blue dog would slobber blue…

Like blue koolaid…

Have you ever even thought about questioning the flavors of koolaid?

Never is it grape or cherry or blue raspberry,

Just purple, red, or blue ‘drank’.

What is juice anyways?

It’s all made of real fruit, mostly apples.

I guess we prefer sugar, water, and color for our hydration purposes.

You know…I think it’s pretty risky to put an apple on your head

And let some blindfolded hooligan shoot an arrow at it all willy nilly.

What happens if he misses?

Bad decision, my friend.

You know what else is a bad decision?

Purple cauliflower. It really exists!

It belongs on another planet,

But not the planet we created out of playdoh.

The aliens probably wouldn’t like that vegetable either.

Maybe they would all turn into transformers and

Morph into giant robot dinosaurs stomping all over their playdoh castles

Yelling how angry they are that someone thought that purple cauliflower was a good idea.

That’s what I did, at least.

I am so hungry!

Did you know that 50 percent of people our age have smoked weed?

That means that the other 50 percent haven’t!

WHAT ARE THEY DOING?!

Do they not know that their nachos will taste a thousand times better

if they had some maryjane dancing in their systems?

Haha! Marijuana doing the dougie in my lungs! Yesss!

Even Barack Obama blazed back in his day,

Good ol’ Barry O being high as a June Balloon.

Clinton didn’t want to admit he smoked the reefer.

He said he didn’t inhale and didn’t enjoy it.

He obviously wasn’t doing it right.

Obama inhaled.

‘That was the point’ he said.

Dude! Feel my pulse! Raging!

It’s like…I need a nap right now,

But I really need a burrito.

Such a dilemma.

Am I the only one who thinks it would be awesome to have

Morgan Freeman narrate their life?

I wonder who narrates his life!

Maybe Mr. T or Bill Cosby.

But it can only be Bill Cosby if Mr. Freeman is wearing a badass sweater.

And maybe Superman narrates his life on three day weekends.

On a scale of one to Pluto, I am definitely soaring at Galaxy 45!

Superman high.

So high I am above the influence!

I wonder what Barack Obama is up to…

Probably smoking a bowl in a badass sweater.

God bless America.

Tagged.

This is a poem I wrote today for my creative writing class. I hope you like it. 

Tagged

My heart drops to my stomach

As I watch her life flash before my eyes,

A film running through my mind beginning with her

Bundled up with her father, a cozy toddler

Unaware of all the unfortunate events that would

Plague her life until every drop

Of childhood innocence was drained out of her.

The next scene I picture is her standing on a stage,

The rest of the world in shadows

As she sings “somewhere over the rainbow”

For the church play,

So nervous, but so in love with the music

In the days before she was told that

Her dreams and passions were less important

Than the money she could make getting a ‘real job.’

The image develops into her playing in the snow

The last bits of light left in her eyes shining more brightly

Than they ever have since.

She’s building a snowperson and creating

Scattered snow angels in the backyard,

So beautiful, her brightly colored winter clothes

Against the white of the blizzard

Before she is covered and blends in

Starting to disappear.

Tears well in my eyes

Blurring my lenses

Causing me to lose my focus,

And then jump forward to

one single frame that reveals that she is no longer

Anything I expected her to be.

Her secrets exposed,

This picture,

Taken in a room filled with smoke

Bottle of vodka in hand,

Donned in the clothes of the man

That has his arm wrapped around her.

Her eyelids hanging low as

Her lips brush the neck of a scantily clad female that has

Jumped into the picture before the

Intoxicated photographer yelled “1…2…3!”

This is who she has become,

This is who I’ve let her be, and

This photograph,

Available for the whole world to see

My child

Pretending to be an adult

Is in no way how I expected this

Movie to end.

Ode to Cork.

The following is a poem that I wrote in my Creative Writing: Poetry class after being told to pick up a random inanimate object out of the variety of items placed on a table for us and write an ode to it. We were told that we only had ten minutes to write about whatever we chose, so...I picked up a cork from a wine bottle, and this is what I came up with.

You are all that remains of a night
that I hardly remember.
Pulled from a bottle of Old Vine Zinfandel,
you were the only thing standing between me
and a plethora of decisions that I
never would have made had you
chosen to put up a fight.
Flashes of light
loud music blaring from the speakers
Shaking the floors and walls around us,
dancing silhouettes skin to skin
in a room filled far beyond
typical levels of comfort.
Sweat dripping from the pores
of a good looking man I barely know,
Passion rising in each movement
Getting lost in the bass of a song
that is overplayed on the radio
but tonight it speaks to us
and our bodies move together
with the uninhibited confidence that can only
be tapped into after the night has fallen
into a drunken haze.
He whispers in my ear
as alcohol whispers to my conscience,
"just do it. you only live once."
and hours later,
I'll do the walk of shame
with a smile on my face,
the sun peeking up behind the trees
feet getting wet from the cold morning dew
and I'll arrive home
get into my own bed just to wake up and
try to piece together
the previous evening's events
and thanking you,
dear cork,
for being the beginning
of an out of control
but amazing
night.

You.

I want you.
I want you to fall in love with the sound of my silence
because in those moments when words are absent
is when I am attempting to wrap my mind around how
incredible I feel when I am around you.
In this same silence,
I am trying to find where in the blank space
my soul and yours meet
for longer than the time we find
each other's gaze and look away quickly enough
to wonder if the other had seen
the adoration seeping from the depths
of our beings.
Or maybe this silence is stemming from the reality that
our stories do not sync
for one of us has lived a life epitomized in the
statement of 'bad things happen to good people'
or a devastating series of unfortunate events,
while the other has experienced life with a silver spoon in tow.
I want to teach you what pain is,
but not in a way that requires you being hurt,
moreso in a way that teaches you how to love
and will make you more able to understand
that I need you, your friendship, your love,
as much as you need to find yourself
and the concept of sorrow,
love,
life,
and silence.
That though our lives may not be the same
your heart can complete mine's sentences
and your passionate and patient soul
can hold mine
and those lonely gazes can meet each other
and collide
erasing all things that put you out of my league
or me out of yours.
Wounded together,
hopeful together,
silent together,
but together
nonetheless.

Beauty.

It is said that beauty is in
the eye of the beholder
and here I am now
beholding the most beautiful
human being to have ever walked
upon this planet,
your flaws perfect
and your imperfections flawless.

I would kiss you from head to toe
just to remind you that every
square millimeter of your body
is the most beautiful thing that
I've ever seen.
And I would need the entire world's
population to help me count on
their fingers and toes to help me
even begin to attempt to number
all the reasons why you make me smile.

I never want to let a day go by
in which I do not remind you of
how stunning you are
because you don't believe you are beautiful
and think that I deserve something better than
what you have to give
but little do you know that
never have I felt more lucky than I do now
that you desire to let me hold your heart in my hands.

I could paint a portrait
of your face with the color of
my irises because I only
have eyes for you.
And I could sing you the most
beautiful love song
to have ever been composed
with the air stolen in the
moments that you've
taken my breath away.

There is even beauty in the
sorrow that you carry
around on your shoulders,
but it is sometimes more than you can handle
and I would take it all from you
just to be able to witness the moment
in which you can finally stand tall
and feel the sunlight on your face.
You don't know how to completely
love because you are afraid of
landing alone if you fall.
Let me catch you
sweep you up and erase
this fear you've built because
there has yet to be someone in your life
who can hold you as gently
and love you as strongly as you've always needed.
If I could give you the universe,
I would be giving you only a fraction
of what you deserve,
But I will give you pieces of my world
One by one
If it means I’ll get the privilege of
Seeing you smile
and the joy of knowing
that in this moment
You are just as much a part of me
as I am of you
and the world
is ours.

Maybe.

Maybe we can hold hands and watch the sun as it
sets over the horizon, blurring the lines between
sea and sun and clouds, a beautiful mixture
of blue, red, orange, and life.

And maybe we can explode the earth with
our passion, smiling more than anyone
ever has because we simply enjoy each other
and life as it currently is, pain, sadness, drama and all.

And maybe we can explore the city, from
the random walls plastered with graffiti to
the 24 hour food places around town that make less than
fantastic food, but it's perfect because of the company
and the time being the wee small hours of the morning,
and we all know that everything tastes better at 4:00 in the morning.

And maybe we'll never need drugs or alcohol
because we are already so high and drunk on
life, but also keep in mind that a shot or two or
maybe some magical, psychedelic trip never really hurt anyone.

And maybe we can take pictures of anything
and everything, like that dog over there or you
capturing me as I am trying to capture a perfect
photograph of something else, or maybe we'd simply take a photo
of me smiling with that sparkle in my eye as you
stick your tongue out the moment that the camera flashes.

And maybe we can be those meddling kids that
laugh for too long in movies and walk too slow on
crowded streets, because we are too distracted by
how incredibly beautiful the world is when
we're together.

And maybe, just maybe, for even a moment,
we can just...escape.

Back to Me & You.

Back to you
my heart stumbles
knowing that more likely than not
it will be handed back in a million
torn pieces
the moment it finally feels whole again
still it pushes on
closer to you
because there is not one person
that deserves to break it
more than you do
for never did it know
such beauty
existed
until you taught
me
how to love.

By: Leandra Stanley
September 30, 2009

____________________________________

Back to me
my hands tremble
knowing that I
don't know how to handle
your heart beat for
I don't mean for the hurt
that is bound to happen to occur
while i still feel
you push on to me
as I attempt to put the pieces back together
which is hard cause it's
like holding sand
yet still I fail
at loving easy
cause I allowed your beauty
which is existing with me
this very moment to teach me
how to love.

By: Noah James http://noahtheartist.blogspot.com/
December 10, 2009

Fall.

I stand here between you

And the edge of a cliff

Holding the beauty that is

Your heart

Out before me

With a loving grip

Showing you that it

Is safe with me

But if you desire me to

Return it, I can

Loosen my grasp

And allow you to

Hold both my heart and

Yours recklessly

As you tend to do.

Beneath this cliff that

You’ve pushed me closer

To is reality

One that I’ve refused to

Confront for as long as

Possible for it is

A long fall just to

Crash through broken promises that are

Softened with ‘I love you’s

And ‘my heart belongs to you’s

Being destroyed as you allow

Your body to belong to someone else

But what is even more

Frightening is the fact

That at the end of this fall

There aren’t even lies

Other women

Or betrayal to

Sugarcoat and ease

My landing.

There is nothing.

So I stand here before you

Tear stained and broken

Begging you for one

Last chance to prove to you

That I can be even more gentle

With your heart that I never broke

Just as I promised.

You look me in the eye and

Without any love or compassion

Tell me that I am still the girl

That holds your heart

Slowly walking toward me while

Extending your arms

and what little remains of my heart

jumps and beats vigorously

in my chest as I step toward you

hoping that there would be some

warmth in this empty embrace.

But then you whisper

‘but you are not the one’

And your extended arms

Push me over the edge

As you try to grab your heart

From my hands.

I continue to hold it close

As I plunge past ‘I love you’ lies

And ‘we’ll be together forever’s

And I somehow find a

Split second to place it gently

Between ‘will you marry me?’

And ‘it was just a drunk hook up,

She means nothing to me’

Hoping that it would be safe

For I would never allow something

So beautiful to collide with a

Black heap of nothingness

Where it could get lost

Or cold or dirty.

As it rests there

I continue my fall

Passing every memory of

How happy we were

And how sad we were

And most of all

How perfect I thought we were.

I plummet closer and closer to the end

My tears passing me as I fly by with

You flashing before my eyes

As I prepare myself for

The lonely drop into nowhere.

I hit the ground

Terrified of the loudness

of silence

And open my eyes to see

You in front of me

And a cliff behind me

As you tell me that everything is okay

And that I am safe

Leaving me wondering

If I am jumping off

Of this cliff on my own

By believing that you

Are any different

Than you were before

Or that this jump back into love

Will be any less painful

Than tiptoeing on the

Line between an embrace

And being pushed

And forced to fall all by myself

After you promised to protect me.

I inch closer to you

Wondering how your heart is back

In my hands

I run toward you knowing you

Will just shove me off again

But you pull me in

Hold me and kiss me

And tell me how glad you are

That we’re okay again,

Charming me just enough

To lower my guard

While you laugh a little

And push me over the edge again.

I thought I was prepared this time

But you poked holes

In my parachute

And peered over the edge

Shrugged and walk away

As you begin to flash before my eyes again

During this beautiful

Disgusting

Perfect

Devastating

Fall into nowhere

And everywhere.

I gave my every effort to

Take flight

And to love you hard enough

To make you pull me closer

Rather than push me over the edge.

For you told me that you had faith in

A perfect love

And that this perfection

Was in me.

And I had faith in you,

In us, 

In our love.

So I am stuck here

Falling

Hoping that this time

You’ll be there to catch me,

Because this is the eighth cliff

That you’ve pushed me off of

And I don’t know how well

I can continue to protect

You and your heart

For I am weak

And my reflexes are shaky

And I am not sure I will

Be able to open my eyes

If you aren’t there this time

To break my fall.

Song for you.

You are finally listening

So I am going to give you

Something worth hearing.

I am going to sing

loud, soft

crescendo, decrescendo,

staccato, legato

with feeling

and more emotion than you expected

or are ready to handle,

because no longer am I singing for you

I am singing to you

and hoping my words will

move past your ears

and be heard by your heart.

I am going to speak to you in song.

I will begin and you will smile at the

sweet sound of my voice

and giggle at the cliché romantic feeling of this moment

until you realize that every note that I sing

is being poured directly from my

heart to yours,

and your goofy smile turns into a feeling

that turns your cheeks rosy and

gives you butterflies in your stomach,

the kind of fluttering feeling

that makes you realize that

I am nothing like what you are used to

but somehow everything you've been

looking for.

So the song I was to perform for you

becomes a song that I am giving to you

and with the

loud, soft,

crescendo, decrescendo,

staccato, legato,

four minute musical moment

in which the song is my soul,

I will surprise you

and steal your heart.

Ready for Love.

A poem written after way too much conversation about love.
Shoutouts to Chase, Rosie, Grace, Sarah, Dorian, and Nichole for all that talk about love and stuff. 
My friends are pretty much the best. 

Because her shy, innocent stance somehow also
exudes a significant level of complicated jadedness,
I feel that I need to save her,
rescue her from lonely
For she needs somebody that is
strong enough to love her
but gentle enough to hold her close
and dry her tears.

I only wish i could save her
from spending any more nights
by herself
alone with the lingering chill of
heartache.
And I know her soft hands
could fit perfectly in mine
and her lonely heart and my broken one
could meet somewhere in the middle
and help each other transform into
a shared happiness that shines
like the light in her eyes.

I can't take away the hurt from her past
but I could show her what love can look like
when it isn't being blurred
by selfishness or doubt.
I want to show her she doesn't need to worry
about what tomorrow may bring
because I will be by her side.
I don't have much to offer
but she deserves the world
and I would gladly give her mine
just to see her smile.

I can only hope that
she will save some space in
her heart for me.
I can't promise her perfection
but I can promise that
the hurt she's felt will
become and remain a part of the past
because I will hold her fragile heart
softly in my
humbled, nervous
but steady hands
that have never possessed anything
so delicate and beautiful.

So to the woman with pain in her smile
and heartache in her eyes
I'd write a million words to
share a moment of happiness with her
and to hear her laugh
Walk a million miles to
hold her in my arms
and fall asleep with her snuggled in the
warmth of my embrace.
For she is the most beautiful woman
on Earth
and her love
the greatest gift anyone could ever receive.