Delilah

Sampson and Delilah were no Brangelina

They were not publicized as the people’s preference

Because this is no love story

This is no hometown glory

This is a lived lie forever remembered in tissue thin sheets

And here is where you author me

He wrote her in as the villain

Then claimed the pen forced his hand

That the shredded story missed the can

That he lost his literate plan

When she loved him like no one else

Delilah

Now a curse

No worse than being called a Jezebel

Delilah

Now means deception of dreams

Creator of schemes

Because you created an elaborate crime scene with damning evidence

You contemplated while diving through desk drawers

As you removed the Crayola safety scissors and replaced them with a Schick sharp blade

You remarked on your hair like a song that’s overplayed

You, Sampson, plainly betrayed

Because you were not strong enough to admit that you are weak

You take it out on the mild and meek

You blame me because you can’t pull down those columns

Even though you couldn’t do it in the first place

You see

You tricked me

Because I loved your long locks

They made you who you are

I would’ve loved you with your weakness

I would’ve loved you with your scars

But you wouldn’t let me

You stopped the car

You handed me scissors

And asked me to char

The existence of your power

And when I said no

You retaliated

You made me hated

You turned from light to shaded

You grabbed the blades from my small hands

And sheared what was once grand

You became like any other man

And you blamed me

For stealing strength

When the choice was made by your palms

We could’ve been psalms

But you blamed me

Made me history

As deception

Because you could not admit

That I am stronger than you

That I always have been

And that you

Are just Sampson.

The Artist

For Jo. I could never be as strong as you are. Keep pressing on, because your blessings are planned in great abundance. 
 
She is beautiful brushstrokes
as if her mother blended blue and green to create a pallette for her eyes
and carefully pinpointed each freckle so that watercolors wouldn't run down her face
whenever she scraped a knee or got picked on at recess
she was painted with strong lines
rigid Picasso
with a heart like a Monet
and dreams painted in Van Gogh's Starry Night
She can paint a sunset with her laugh as she strolls happily
leaving paint footprints toward her tomorrows
The Artist
painted her own prince
A canvas draped in America's flag
with a young man
and his beating heart
as an open home where Jesus kicks off his slippers
and resides behind the welcome-mat door
She painted teeth perfectly aligned like the stars and the moon
She painted a Thor look-a-like so she'd always have a hero at her side
She painted the winner of a heart and soul battle who would
sing any battle song just to win one single Mona Lisa smile
from her and her beautiful painter's eye
She cries as she strokes the brush down the grainy frame
She knows it will never be the same
She knows that God's not to blame
She knows that he's not in it for the fame
or for his good name
She just wishes that someday
he'd walk out of the canvas
and take her hand
That they'd do a ragtime dance
that they'd live out a music box fantasy
She says, "I wish he was here with me"
and she continues in her colorful creation
Because she knows that someday
he will come out and say
that he loves each line and arc
that he always thinks up sparks
each time one of the stars in the flag mentions her
That each day when he thinks it's the end
when it's more difficult than he could even pretend
 He sees a growing trend in the drumbeat of his heart
Like a Morse code mark
They spell out each letter
that leads him back to thinking of his love letter to home
Because he would crawl in the muddy rain
He would go thunder lightning insane
He would make it through hurricanes
Just to hear her voice in that once a week phone call
and she paints the sound of his voice
and the feel of his skin
and the way it makes her feel to hold him
she paints his silence
and his laughter
she paints his most trivial triumph
to the best days of his life
She paints her prince
and she holds her canvas tight
waiting for the day that the man will come to life
and hold her under the moonlight
and she'll know that it's just right
because she painted that moment
into existence for her own sight
and there he'll be
the soldier fighting her war
And she painted till canvases tore
but now she speaks softly
"I know what all those crooked lines were for"***

Silence

He never knew how much you loved him
as you constantly placed him aside
like the last of the action figures
cycled on down
to the last box of toys you got rid of before you officially became an adult
You let him go
because his paint was chipped and his smile was no longer white
because others came along
because he was the one who sat in the second row
but to you he was the one who was always there
he was as constant as the air
he was a compass for your care
he was the cornerstone who stayed in the same place
but never knew how truly important he was
Because we live in a world of mouths shut
Filters never come into play unless we're shot-gunning negative slander
Our sentences could be so much grander if each word was meant to love each second
if we didn't waste our time speaking pennies
we could be shouting millions
we could be rich in billions
we could be golden in every corner and crevice
we could be diamond clear and sapphire blue
but when was the last time you said I love you?
How are people supposed to know when you don't tell them
when you sit in solemn silence
with assumptions that stab with each lack of mention
the heart doesn't assume that blood will just flow
because it's always done that, it should just know
because without it, it stops with nowhere to go
and then you're left with a grey veined side show
because we'd all be sleeping with cement headboards
if our hearts assumed the way we do
Just because you're smiling doesn't mean it's true
because inside you could be facing never-ending conflict; Iraq
You could be thinking that since everything is silent
we've all turned our backs
You could be hiding away paths you wrote yourself up your arms, your tracks
and we'd never know because
we are silent
we are silent
we are silent
in the severe and solemn
we are silent
when we should be shouting
each heart should be crowding
and love shouldn't be doubting
We should be screaming value
not hatred
because the person next to you should know that they're loved even when they screw up
that you've never met the end
that there's always another chance
shut the silence
shout your heart
shout your love
shout what you are
and never leave someone on a shelf
because without the love of another where is our wealth
we are rags
and yet
we are silent
because we're too afraid
of what it's like to be rich
we are silent
and suddenly more hearts assume their right not to beat
more minds assume the right not to speak
more silence
as we silently weep
for the boy in the back
whose smile lit up the world
and was turned off so abruptly
because no one ever told him that we can't see without him
that the darkness is overwhelming
that he saved us
yet we are still silent
because no one taught us how to speak.

Bad Liar

He said the dark was afraid of the light
Like a child pumping legs back and forth
until they could touch clouds but still afraid to jump off of the swing
They'd rather hang in equilibrium
they'd rather tease gravity
they'd rather take time to defy
and I
sang phrases from the section of my cerabellum
that is purely dedicated to song lyrics
as I pulled a Panic! at the Disco reference
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night
He said light
is too bright for my shaded fearful eyes
I can't trust it to rise
with some compromise
for myself and what I can handle
Yes, light
is what the darkness craves
because the darkness likes anything that's brave enough to cross its bounds
Because darkness likes the way the middle ground sounds
Darkness wants to be with light
so light invites
the moon, shining like an open invitation from a bridesmaid to a best man
if that's not obvious, I don't know what is
the moon, wearing the shiniest thing it owns and making heads turn upward to admire
the moon, proving that light and dark need each other
Each star proving that the two make each other
so. damn. beautiful. 
You see, you can't make a shadow, unless you have light
Peter Pan, try as hard as you might
to sew that shadow to your shoe sole
I see into your soul
I pay my own toll
I have my own goal
You see, Peter, Wendy's taking flight
like Icarus toward the light
I can fly, I can fly!
Because I want to combine the light and the dark
like Van Gogh's starry night
I want to combine like pizza in a perfect bite
I want dark to fall right next to light
the moon and it's black sheet counterpart
they play the part
but I think they're about ready to retire
I think the sky is open to hire
I think you said once that I'm a bad liar
So I won't bother to lie about what's required
Because when we're together, we set stars on fire
So the job's ours
though neither of us is the applier
the moon and the black sky just know
that dark and light
are entirely entire
and you and me?
We're just bad liars***

5 things.

5 things no one told me before I left for college

5. No one told me that the bathroom is no longer a private affair, everyone knows that you’re in there, so always be aware and if you can, light a freaking match. Because everyone can hear all of those un-lady-like drums, to the girl who was in the stall on Thursday night…you need some TUMS. I got some in room 212, I’ll hook it up. Because everyone who walks in knows when the nacho platter did not agree with you and as you walk out in shame, we know it’s you. So yes…do what you need to but febreeze that shit before you quit.

 4. No one told me that some people say they want to wait, but the health office lays it all out on a plate with a lovely condom buffet all for the glamorous price of free as long you stay safe and try not to wake your roommate. There was nothing as glorious as the moment I took my first one from like that big punch bowl and scared the crap out of the lady behind the counter because at first I wanted to grab a handful and walk up to her little window and begin quoting Juno by saying they make my boyfriend’s junk smell like pie you know but I restrained and took one single contraceptive and scrapbooked it for posterity because yes, my children will want to know the temptation I had that day.

3. No one told me that in high school it’s the greatest moment of your life when you get asked out by a senior but in college you might have to card your date. Super Senior doesn’t mean he’s someone superb who succeeds it means he’s someone who’s old enough to be your dad and knows your naïve and will gladly take you out even though he’s 40 and you’re 18. Even though his favorite movie is Robocop and it’s no coincidence that he loves anything by Woody Allen. Don’t let his cut off shorts fool you because he still lives with his mom and plans student events, he sits in the basement and never pays rent. When his pick up lines are fifteen years behind the times you’ll see that you don’t want to go to a movie and sit on grandpa’s lap.

2. No one told me that the past presidents of the itty bitty titty committee had been popular throughout high school because the boys didn’t know what they were getting themselves into and now they think they’re ready to move on to those double D’s with double ease and they think they’re smooth as nacho cheese when really the way they move their hands is about as romantic is tuning a radio. Because you see them lurking on the couches with their girl with an expression like unhooking a bra is an algorithmic process that Einstein himself couldn’t solve and they think they’re doing you a favor when in actuality they love boobs because they are squishy bags of fat and you are not enjoying yourself in the least.

1. No one told me not to wear my good Sunday dress to a frat party. It was like getting my ass slid across the glass window countertop at target by each guy I came across and then getting put in the bag ready to take home for later. Bam! I was checked out. It was a continual repeat of a Joey Tribiani pick-up: how you doin? How you doin? How you doin? Because in college, it’s all about the hourglass and that sassy class and the babies who got back till you don’t know the names of the people you’re dancing with but most of them look like Will Smith back when he was on the Fresh Prince except with some nasty facial hair and some pimples here and there but just as soon as you think it’s time to take a break and you sit on the bricks outside and watch a basketball fake…SLAM DUNK! You just got hit in the face and your nosebleed is loving that white fabric, it’s just soaking it up and where’s Will Smith to help you before the freaking fabric stains? He’s inside with another booty and you are the girl with the killer nosebleed. These are the things no one told me and I don’t even know how much longer the list will get or what to think because this is only the first week.