0022 The Betrayed [26 December 1995]

Author’s note: Ah, teenage angst. Ultimately our family did get the horses mentioned in this poem but my dad, at the time, was not too keen on the idea. This was my reaction after one discussion we had.

He betrayed us.
He let us bond with them,
Fall in love with them.
And let us think of those horses as ours.

He betrayed us.
Letting us believe it was possible,
Intending to break our hearts,
Like a brittle old tree limb over his knee.

He who has had all he desired,
Has betrayed us in our desires.
Promising that which was not done,
Letting fall deep in love.

He killed me today,
As I know he did you.
Breaking our hearts,
Like a shattering jar against the wall.

Mocking us,
He betrayed us.
Now I will never believe again,
And you will never trust again.

He has betrayed us.
He has betrayed us!
He has betrayed us! !
He has betrayed us! ! !

We will never again believe.

0021 Brandi [25 December 1995]

Author’s note: The woman this poem is about is the person who inspired me to start writing poetry.

I see her face,
Brightly smiling,
Like the rising of the sun.

She is my friend,
My mentor in a way.
She tells me things,
And I tell her things.

Leaving her home
Is like leaving your home.
You never want to leave,
For her warmth run over onto any.

She writes poems that inspire dreams,
She welcomes friends and strangers.
If you are a stranger,
She takes you into the folds of her warmth.

She brings life and laughter,
To any rainy day.


0020 To the One I Love [06 October 1995]

My heart has a hole in it.
And it bleeds for you.
It is empty,
And it is cold.

Don’t tell me truths,
Don’t tell me lies.
Don’t tell me anything,
For actions speak more than words.

To be in your arms,
That is my only wish.
To be with you,
In the dark.

No passionate movements,
Just together,
In each other’s arms,
For the whole night.

It is a dream I have,
Irrelevant and illogical.
But that’s just my heart,
That’s just me.

Like an eagle in the heavens,
My heart soars when near you.
Singing a soundless song,
Just for yours.

Each person has only half a soul,
They must quest for the other.
Then those two halves,
Will forever be whole.

When I hear your voice
Or see you in the hall,
My heart jumps
Into my throat.

It seems I am composed
And confident in myself,
But in reality,
Inside I’m shaking.

My skin cries out
Just for your touch,
Just a hand on an arm,
Or brush of shoulders.

Nothing sexual,
Just a longing
That eats at my heart,
Calling for you.

I guess it must be a dream,
Foolish and never to be.
I’ve fall in love,
For the first time.

And that love
Will never be,
For you love another,
And I am invisible to you.

0019 The Kindred Spirit [09 August 1995]

Author’s note: This is one of my personal favorites from this era of my writing.

Who is wise,
Beyond his years.
In some ways,
In others,

A young man of mystery,
Came into my life.
Whom I tried to understand,
But could not.
Whose spirit was kindred of mine,
Whose life was separate of mine.

I felt he was a friend,
Even if it was only a second,
So it seemed,
In time.

His life touched mine
In unspeakable ways.
It was brief,
As the way time goes,
Yet it seemed a lifetime.

Who is said to be wise,
Beyond her years.
In some ways,
In others,

Though we’re far apart,
He is never alone.
For he is always in my heart,
Wherever he may be.
I can hear his prayers,
His cries for help,
And I hope he hears mine.

I’ll never see him again,
He is far away from here.
But not so far
In my memories and in my heart.

0016 Shanon [30 May 1995]

Author’s note: The person this poem I wrote about when I was 15 years old is actually still one of my best friends now at the age of 36. This poem amuses me because of my attempt at rhyming something about her.


Crazy and kooky,
Weird and spooky.
She is my friend,
And a crazy one at that.

She makes me laugh,
(And sometimes hurt.)
Still a kid,
Still a friend.

Best friends shall never part,
As she and I are,
Even when I leave,
We will see each other.

0015 Sometimes [25 May 1995]

Sometimes I am so lonely,
I want to break down and cry.
Sometimes I want to be someone else,
But always wonder why.

Sometimes I want to be gorgeous,
But I am me.
Sometimes I want a boyfriend,
But I have to be just me.

Sometimes I wish I was athletic,
But I can be it all,
Sometimes I want to be thin,
But I am not small.

I have to be myself,
And myself alone.
Not someone else,
Not an asinine clone.

0013 A Poem to a Lover II [22 May 1995]

Author’s note: Sometimes when I look back at my 15 year old self and the poetry I wrote then, I cringe in mortification. But then again, I am 36 now. 21 years separates the me of now and the me of then. I hope you enjoy.

Dear Gonzalo,
I am but one of many,
Who wishes to hold you in her arms.
Another bewitched,
By your charms.

I often wonder what happens,
In the darkness of night.
Surrounded by your power,
Underneath your might.

You are sleek and handsome,
Like a swift cheetah.
Your muscles moving under your skin,
Like a river over rocks.

Watching this power,
I shiver with anticipation.
Aware of not only the grace,
But the man who controls it.

I must wonder,
Out of every girl,
Holds your interest.

Yet with my shy gazelle ways,
I am powerless against the cheetah.
As the woman inside me,
Is powerless against the man.