I wanted it to be you
I wanted it to be you so badly
but I am not Alice
and this is not my wonderland

j.f

i came upon a girl in the wood
her sun floating smile could not be repressed
the light of her inner shone clearly
like song simple and true
i asked her and i begged of her moment
how far must i travel
before i am loved as deeply as you
she could not answer

in the middle of the long night
came upon a man walking in the stars
the beauty and wonder of the mysteries of his world
spun like whirlwinds and shone from his eyes like tenderness
and i asked of him i begged of him to tell me please
how deep into the wilderness must i wander alone
before i could find loves sweet harmony like he has
he could not answer me

in the resonance of morning dancing upon the worlds edge
i found a girl who was painting a masterpiece of freedoms
a scene of sweet adorations and gifts of souls kiss for all
who are drawn near
i asked her and i begged of her to please tell
me how long must i study at the dusty dry bones of fear
how long must i sit in the stillness of autumn never ending
before spring finds me like it has her
she answered me
in a voice thick and rich
in a knowledge sure
that i had all these things
and left them all behind to folly's quest
to find the love within

For she is the embodiment of pure nostalgia,
Her twists and turns are so inescapable.
For the memory of her clings to me,
And, as if a partner in crime,
Her goodbye accompanies.
I will find her, in the creases of sheets,
And the rooms that are hollow of her.
Somedays, all I can see is her,
Is her eyes.
Eyes that once held my world,

That hypnotized me with their electricity.
Yet today there is no serendipity found in the irises I once adored.
No, they only allude to the chilling numbness that has infested her blue bones.
Know that I write this as a obituary to the girl I once loved.
I write this in vengeance of the betrayals of fate.
I write this so you will understand that she was not always,

So terribly heartless.
She lies, as incorruptible evidence, that tears can live inside a gods eyes.
-

For I would have swum the ocean for her,
If only I could.

He fell from the sky
I wasn’t looking for anything but solitude
But he fell from the sky
And refused to let me out of his sight
He refused to let me cry my silent tears
Wrapping my misery in balloons
And letting his fingers fall away
Watching as they soared up high into oblivion someday
For him life wasn’t a word
But a song to be sung everyday
In new and everlasting ways
Plucking my heartstrings as he strummed his way
Into my broken and mangled life
Where nothing ever seemed to play
The right notes of the day
He ****** out all the bad dreams
And breathed in hope of a new life
Filled with things that may or may not happen
He taught me how to smile again
With my favourite dimple peeking out
When I screamed and ranted
About things beyond his control
He kissed me
And suddenly
If only for a moment
I felt like what I felt mattered
I felt like my poems were good
Really good
So good that may be someone else
Might want to read them one day
Someone else who doesn’t have someone like him
He fell from the sky
And taught me how to let everything go
Not for others
But for myself
He showed me what music looks like
He made me realize
That I do want forever
No matter how much I said I didn’t
He fell from the sky
And I don’t think I’ll ever be the same any more

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f