mimi-from-heaven

[mimi-from-heaven]

Pith (Someday I’ll Tell You)

Peeled pomegranate.

A tale as old as time.

I watch your hands delicately maneuver

to remove the seeds.

I watch your hands, covered in that bright red juice,

staining your nails.

After you’ve peeled the third pomegranate,

I wonder when it would be appropriate to tell you:

I hate pomegranate.

[mimi-from-heaven]

Teeth

You can see their snaggletooth,

just slightly crooked,

peeking out

from between their clenched teeth. Such an oddly endearing feature,

You note clinically.

Such a human thing.

[mimi-from-heaven]

Folding Hands

Such a human gesture, 

betraying your inner turmoil and anxiety. 

So, I almost want to reach out and still them, 

to force you to be calm, 

but I resist this urge. 

This is all part of the process, the game they must play.

[mimi-from-heaven]

That was it.

Hours spent on feeding his imagination.

The days he spends reading.

The words burned into his heart and soul.

It was never welcomed.

So he'd sit for hours.

Not caring for the strange looks he got.

He was in a world of his own.

A world of words and pages.

He dreaded the day the last chapter was there to stare him in the face.

He, too attached, left it when it was just right.

The memories of the days he'd spent came crashing down.

So he wept and wept.

But there he was again into another world of pain and love.

Just like the last, he left it when it was just right.

He was a coward who couldn't dare to face the last page.

So he stopped when he smiled more than ever.

There was never an end.

The memories lived in his heart and mind.

That was it.

[mimi-from-heaven]

Title: Where do you fit?

A bird whistled its song.

An owl hooted its hoot.

A cat meowed its meow.

A dog barked its bark.

A tree rustled in the wind.

A cloud floated alone.

A mother sang her song.

A father yelled his words.

A girl cried her cry.

A boy ran along.

Everything was as is.

Where where you?

Everything is as is.

Where are you?

[mimi-from-heaven]

APRIL

See my books go to my brother,

he'll love them when he's older.

And my vinyls to my big sister,

so her voice might just get bolder.

Send flowers to my cousin

she'll want to hear the news.

Tell her that I'm sorry

for having so short a fuse.

Give the crows some peanuts

so they know I won't return.

Read all of my letters

and please watch them as they burn.

Give my last breath to the wind

chimes,

and my age to the newborn trees.

Give my voice to the barn cats kitten,

And my direction to the flocking geese.

You know i will be leaving leaving

And I know it will be soon;

so send my body down the river,

and my soul up to the moon.

[mimi-from-heaven]

Annabel Lee

Its not mine. I just really love this poem so much.

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love —

I and my Annabel Lee —

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me —

Yes! — that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we —

Of many far wiser than we —

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea —

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

-Edgar Allan Poe

[mimi-from-heaven]

Keep it away.

Keep it away.

For a year.

A month.

And a day.

To keep the tears at bay.

And to lead my anger astray.

[mimi-from-heaven]

What these eyes could feel?

its a long poem today.

When you are sad, you cry.

You cry, without discretion.

It irritates me, who never had a chance.

When you are mad, you yell.

You yell at others without sympathy.

It irritates me, who never had a chance.

When you are happy, you smile.

You sound so happy when you talk.

It irritates me who never learnt how.

So when you ask me.

“Why do you look at me with such eyes?”

I will say to you.

“Nothing.”

With these eyes you’ve seen before.

They are not friendly.

They are not happy.

They are not angry.

They are me.

I will always look at you with these eyes.

You are no use to me.

I won't smile at you.

I won’t get angry at you.

I will be me, not you.

Not you who can love.

Not you who can hope.

Not you who can look into these eyes and smile.

I envy you.

I hate you.

I love you.

I care about you.

Everything I see is you.

When you look at these eyes you don’t fear.

You don't hate.

You don't love.

You are you. 

I’d hate to say these words that go around in my head.

And spill from these eyes.

I’d hate to know the meaning of the one’s that spill from my fingertips.

If I did, some might need clarification.

Others might start to hate me.

Your mood shouldn't affect those around you.

Your voice wouldn't be the only thing in my head.

Your face wouldn't be the only thing in these eyes.

Your love shouldn't be the only thing I know in this heart.

They may call this obsession.

But I call it,

What these eyes could feel.

[mimi-from-heaven]

And so I slept.

And so, I Slept,

Because the world is too cruel,

And the world is too wide.

[mimi-from-heaven]

That was it

That was it. Hours spent on feeding his imagination. The days he spends reading. The words burned into his heart and soul. It was never welcomed. So he'd sit for hours. Not caring for the strange looks he got. He was in a world of his own. A world of words and pages. He dreaded the day the last chapter was there to stare him in the face. He, too attached, left it when it was just right. The memories of the days he'd spent came crashing down. So he wept and wept. But there he was again into another world of pain and love. Just like the last, he left it when it was just right. He was a coward who couldn't dare to face the last page. So he stopped when he smiled more than ever. There was never an end. The memories lived in his heart and mind. That was it.

[mimi-from-heaven]

Behold

Behold.

Witness.

I am death itself.

Behold.

Witness.

I am life as well.