P.S. I.. think I love you?

…Wherever I am, you’ll always be, more than just a memory…


As I sat in an overly-air-conditioned coffee shop I wondered about that one. The one that was supposed to make my other half come into wholeness-or is it that he becomes my other half? Sometimes I wonder at that phrase. Not that I don’t find it a beautiful thing. But does this mean I am incomplete without him? Yesterday I would have said yes, but as I write this, I’m not too sure. I believe I am whole, complete, right now, in this very moment. Oh don’t think that I don’t want my ‘other half’. Maybe I’m just a walking irony or oxymoron. Or something to that effect. I can say with all my heart that I want someone to hold me close, to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, the complete package of cliché romantic lines. Give me some cheese and I am set. I don’t go for crackers though; no dry romance will do. Cheese and wine, cheese and wine.

Some of you might be thinking, why have another person nagging, clinging, sucking you dry of all that you hold dear? Well, if that really is what you’re thinking, I am sorry. You haven’t gotten the bigger picture, the whole shebang. God created marriage as the closest picture to the relationship between Christ and the Church. And we, human as ever, get to be the ones to represent Him in that. What a lousy job we’ve been doing thus far. I am blunt and perhaps a bit harsh, but it needs to be said. Where is the fight for marriage? I see campaigns for human-trafficking and the need for clean water in Africa. And yes, I believe those are worthy causes, but how, how can we go about being the church if the fundamental establishment is so destroyed? How can we understand what that establishment truly looks like, feels like, how it works, if we don’t work on it? We neglect it, as though those vows we said to our Beloved are just words. That sacred night was just another night in July. That vow of purity went with the white dress, back in the closet. Oh how the heart of God aches for such an establishment to be reestablished, for His holy purposes. Not a call to war, not a call to justice, not a call to end violence. A call to love, with pure, selfless, unadulterated love. Only then can love be a movement. Back at square one. It’s more than a golden band, it’s more than a silk gown, it’s more than a chance to throw rice in someone’s ear…this is a call to love. Let love be a movement.

Poem-a biography

Last one standing, Heard, Breaking the rules, Dancing till dawn Noticed, good, bad, good, bad, setting the tempo, doing it my way Me. Who says I can’t be English, Muslim and a beauty queen? English Rose, Local flavor, French accent, Paris match Simply beautiful, go ahead, smile out loud, get comfortable in your own skin Introducing revolutionary beauty without rules A flair for individuality, mix it up, take charge Never opaque, never fake, always Me. She knows the coolest moves She makes her arm warmers from sweat socks The stuff of legend, multi-faceted Dress like a star, your city comes in shades all its own Wave of the future, a black-tie affair, a new fragrance Well-read, it’s all relative, razzle-dazzle ‘em, It felt like a fairy tale As a finishing touch, Oscar de la Renta tied a bow around my dress, Tailor made, making a splash, simply beautiful. Me. This was a project for a literature class...I made it a bit more personal than was required. All we had to do was simply find words in a magazine and paste them together to make a 'found poem'. Well, I found a bit of myself in doing so...

If only we could fly, if only trees could talk, if they could sing and dance and walk, than mirth and merry would never die. If grass could sing and the moon set sail, you and I would never grow frail, this would be the grandest thing...if only we could fly.

This poem went through my head one night as I thought and thought and thought. I think a lot. Some good some rot. On the whole I think of love. Love on the earth, love from above.
I truly enjoy free verse. And rhyming verse...hey, I've seen worse.