poem 30

"Sometimes when I'm sad, or very very mad,
I sometimes hold your hand, and I work on being glad.
I think of when you hold me, and tell me it's okay,
that I can say and think and feel whatever that I may.
I love you like the sun and the moon, and the day and the night,
and I love you when you're down, until you feel all right."

-lj

oct. 2018

the fear of swimming

When I am sad, I think about his smile,

and I think about how small and safe

I feel in his arms.  I think about his eyes,

and how I lose myself swimming in them,

despite how scared I am of swimming.

Perhaps, every time I look in his eyes,

and swim deep into his soul, I lose

the fear of swimming into the deep ends.

The deepest part of him if where I want

to lose myself. It is where I know I can be me

without any fear or rejection.

It is where I can find myself and seek solace

in his arms, that are always pulling me close to him,

away from the floods of the world around us.

It is where my fears are not ridiculed, and it

is where I can learn to grow and blossom.

If I am scared, he will rescue me from the waters,

and keep me close to him, reminding me that it's okay

to be afraid of swimming.  I will learn once more

to swim confidently, and save myself if I

begin to drown. When I am sad, I think about

how he loves me always and how the feel

of him embracing me makes me feel safe and loved.

I think about his eyes and his smile, and how 

one day I will swim with him forever,

and I will no longer be afraid, and I will grow in his love.

-LJ

3 July 2018
(a ramble poem, but
a free-verse nonetheless,
I suppose)

It Was Gone

At the moment I thought I had it,

it was gone.

At the moment I thought I heard it,

it was silenced.

At the moment I thought I touched it,

it was unfelt. 

It has been nine years.

At the exact moment

I thought I knew it,

I had really learned it.

It has been nine years, now.

At the exact moment

I learned about you,

I had you.

I had you, and

I heard you.

I heard you, and

I felt you.

I felt you, and

I knew you.

At the moment I knew I had you,

you weren't gone, you weren't silenced,

and you weren't unfelt.

You were with me all along.

-LJ

3 July 2018

(bonus phone poem)

he kisses him.

the rain captures him and pulls him under the covers of momentary bliss...

a sort of romantic departure, although bittersweet.

a mind too clouded by dense fogs and intoxicated by the unholy waters,

he becomes hysterical, wondering why he didn't say goodbye,

when he actually said goodnight.

-lj

sometime in april or may 2018

my mom cries ("phone poems" 3 of 3)

my mom cries

the cries of mothers,

and, full of emotion,

screams

how could this happen?

i realize

it's not just us

in our own tiny world.

it's all of us

on this green earth

turned gray.

-lj

21 june 2018

god, be ("phone poems" 2 of 3)

God, be with me.
Be by my side.
Why do I run?
Why do You hide?

God, be present
in every storm,
and in every blessing
that takes form.

God, be beauty.
Be moon and stars,
and sun and clouds,
so near and far.

God, behold,
a prayer comes through,
that one day,
I will know You, too.

-lj
19 June 2018

when all that remains is guilt ("phone poems" 1 of 3)

when all that remains
is guilt,
the bed is not made,
the room is not clean,
and the only reality i know
is that of a dark shadow
holding me like a weight to the floor,
telling me why
i am not worthy of another
why
i am not worth taking care of,
why
i am not worth the right
to this gift called life.

sure, they forgive,
but i never forget,
and i never forgive myself.

-lj
22 may 2018