Just one of those things.....

Contradiction
you're my favorite of the women in my life
though you love me one day
and hate me the next
you're as beautiful to me-as the sky you reflect

you're my lover
though you caress me gently one day
and thrash me fiercely the next
you're delightfully intricate- and infinitely complex

you're my confidant
though you listen patiently one day
and interrupt me constantly the next
you're a salve for my wounds-you negate their effects

you're my favorite contradiction
though you may kill me
and take my body far from home
I can think of nothing more eloquent-than your seas forever to roam

Return to poetry

I took a poetry class at Cal Poly. I loved every second of it till I pulled a 48 hour straight massive poetry fest where I put together a gigantic portfolio with my heart and soul bared for my teacher to grade. I received a "B" in that class and I'm afraid it soured my experience so badly that I haven't written a line of poetry until now. And now I am forcing myself back to the sanctuary I used to run to. So tread softly you who read this, and keep in mind that corny love poems are my favorite topic. I only want to share the first stanza with you.



Contraband

You’re a collection of glances
Each of them stolen
And all of them the contraband of my dreams
My imagination is no substitute for your beauty
And like the addict I’ve become
My appetite for your loveliness is no match
for the shortage I endure



Someday I hope to marry a woman who's beauty is contraband.

Love or something like it

This is just so perfect. I know I've felt abused by love before.

Sex starts in the kitchen

My mom told me a long time ago, "When you are married someday you will need to help out in the kitchen." As we were doing dishes that night she explained to me that a healthy marriage can often be spotted in the kitchen after dinner. If both the wife and husband are involved in the cleanup process, then often times that is an indication of a healthy marriage. When I grew older my mom explained this to me again, but this time it really clicked. She said, "Sex starts in the kitchen." Asking for clarification (I tend to be a very literal person), I found out that this was a very logical truth. My mom explained to me that after a long day of dealing with kids/working and then cooking and or cleaning, a woman is tired and the last thing she wants to do is clean up after dinner. A wise husband, my mom explained, offers to clean up after dinner and tells his wife "Go relax, I know you worked hard all day, I got this." Now the reason this is wise should be apparent, but my mom explained anyway. "Happy wife-Happy life. A woman who is tired isn't going to want sex." The lightbulb definitely went on in my mind after this talk, and as a result, I am a kitchen fiend. I always think of my mom's advice whenever the kitchen is dirty or has dishes laying around and I smile and happily go to work because I am practicing. I don't understand why my dad never got these things. And I will never understand why he would ignore my mom when she told him that dinner was ready, only to come in 30 minutes after we'd started eating. Any woman that cooks for you had better be listened to when she says it's time to eat. I live to be the antithesis of my dad.

Where will I meet her?

My best friend and I love to ask silly questions to each other. We basically live life as though it were one long slumber party. You know what I mean. It's those questions you ask at a sleepover: If you could be trapped on a desert island with one girl, If you could eat only one food for the rest of your life, If you could......You get the picture. Well, the other day I had a question for my friend. The question was, "Where do you think you'll meet your future wife?" Basically I was asking where you'd ideally meet the woman you'd be willing to spend the rest of your life loving.

Most of the time when I ask hypothetical questions, I am hoping the person I ask will turn the question back on me so that I can elaborate on my pre-thought out and clever answer (well, I usually think it's clever). So naturally when I asked my best friend the question I was ready with my response. My answer to where I thought I'd meet my future wife was well thought out. I said I saw myself meeting her volunteering somewhere, either with people in need or the homeless or with people (probably children) who are cognitively challenged. I answered this way because these are things I know I want in my future wife. I want someone who cares. Someone who isn't selfish and considers other people's needs above her own. Someone who is intimately acquainted with the hurt and pain in the world and doesn't turn a blind eye to it. I don't believe that the world's problems can be fixed in my lifetime, but I do believe that I am responsible for doing my part to end them. And I think the perfect place to find the person who will fight by my side in this battle against injustice is probably somewhere volunteering. But things like this are serendipitous and they must remain that way or they won't be special.