Disney Love

I love you…
Like Pooh loves ‘hunny.’
Like Tigger loves to bounce.
Like Owl loves being a pretentious douche.

I love you…
Like Pocahontas loves her homeland.
Like Meeko loves to steal biscuits from John Smith.
Like Flit loves to be bossy.

I love you…
Like Marlin loves Nemo.
Like Dory loves to speak whale.
Like Nigel loves to be all up in the dentist’s business.

I love you…
Like Belle loves to read.
Like Beast loves Belle.
Like Gaston loves himself.

I love you…
Like Jasmine loves Aladdin.
Like Abu loves to eat.
Like Genie loves to shape-shift.

I love you…
Like Mary Poppins loves Bert.
Like Winifred loves her feminist group.
Like Mr. Banks loved working at the bank.

I love you…
Like I love Disney…
And with no exceptions.

I love you…
Like Disney taught me how to love.



How you managed to look past all of the flaws
And see what lies underneath
Then fall in love with what you found
Is nothing short of a miracle

How you managed to see me for what I really am:
The scared little girl behind the façade of an independent woman
And let me continue to pretend to be what I’m not
Is rather sweet of you

How you managed to get inside my head so quickly
So soon after meeting me
Then not being frightened away by what you found
Is either kismet or just my dumb luck

How you managed to make me fall in love with you
So quickly and so entirely
Even when it seems absolutely insane
Is both beautiful and scary—but at least you’re here to hold my hand <3

To Know Me

I could be simple-minded
Or I could be un génie
I could be undecided
Or know what’s right for me
I could be a millionaire
Or sleeping on the street
I could be an Anyman
Or featured on TV
I could be a regal king
Or just a lowly knave
I could be the one who dies
Or, instead, the one you save
I could be just anything
Or nothing, or a dream
But you shall never know me
Until you speak to me
Until you ask, I will not tell
And I expect you not to guess
Because now you are a friend, you see
And you’d expect no less

Lover’s Quarrel

“Wherefore dost thou tremble?” spake the Wind unto the Tree.
“‘Tis only in thy presence, dear, that I shake so violently.”

“But why, dear Tree, must you bend and frighten me ever so?”
“‘Tis only the process, dearest Wind, so I may grow and grow.”

“How can you grow, dear Tree, dear Tree, in conditions such as these?
The Rain comes down ever so hard and rattles all your leaves.”

“‘Tis your love, as well as Rain’s, that lets me grow so tall.
I have no clue what I would do without you there to answer when I call.”

“‘Rain,’ you say? I thought I was the only one you’d need.
At least, that’s what you told me last year, upon midsummer eve.”

“Oh, Wind, my dear, you mustn’t fret, for I mean only this:
Without the Rain, my roots would die, but it’s you I’d only miss.
I couldn’t live without you, Wind, for your embrace is what I need
To help me gather up the strength to spread my tiny seeds.”

And then, the Wind did something that the Tree will always remember–
She shook his branches and planted a seed that would grow the next September.

Inspiration, Where Art Thou?

Staring at the screen; the blinking line means
That I can’t think of a single damn thing
To write

Good thing this is only a hobby
And not my actual job-by
Because if it were, I’d be unemployed

Maybe I should try to take a walk
Or have a little talk
With a stranger for inspiration

The muses are unkind
For when I have the time
I have nothing about which to write

I should write about the world
Or about a single squirrel
If only, if only I could

Review, review
That’s all that I do
Review what’s already been writ

I wish I could see
The world around me
The way that I usually do

But I seem to be
To an impasse, you see
A creative block to my mind

This stupid poem I wrote
Is all I could quote
For now, for now, for now

Too Close

They say that opposites attract, you know
And we are very close
Too close, sometimes, for comfort
And too close for merely words.

Actions speak in volumes
And yours have said enough
I wish to break these ties with you,
But not for lack of love.

Yes, it’s true I love you
But perhaps a bit too much
And I know not how to say this,
But I have been your crutch.

I’ve been there when you asked me to,
I’ve understood your pain;
I’ve helped you when I thought I could,
And sheltered you from rain.

But I am afraid, my dearest friend,
That the end for us has come
I can’t support you anymore—
I can’t give you what you want.

Because you ask me for my hand
Though you already have my heart
I’m afraid I must decline, my dear…
Now is not our time.


Inside a box
Waiting to be let out

Alone—all alone
Until another day

And painful, sometimes
But usually both

Got to love them—
And hate them all the same

Usually unwanted; always unbidden
Into your most vulnerable thoughts

Your heart when they send
A pang of remembrance into your soul

You locked in the past—
Wanting and waiting for a replay

You from yourself

You remember the wrong
And help you to do the right

As reminders to the weakened
That they once were strong


Us to remember those gone, those we loved
And those we want to keep close


The best—and the worst—
Part of growing as a person…
The most
Influential parts
Of our long-term memory…
Windows to the past…
Visions of the future.

C’est La Vie

The falling rain makes waves upon
The surface of the lake

The innocent child blows out
The candles on its birthday cake

Such is life, as they say; in French it’s c’est la vie
The life, the love, the virtue of one’s own love-to-be

So it is, that we may o’ercome the stormy sea
So it is, that we may live quite deliberately

Forever Be

The slate has been cleared
Alas, the mind can never be
All that is heard and all that is seen
In the memory, ’twill forever be.

Banking on solitude
Knowing no company
Memories ebb and flow, rather rude
As the tide shall forever be.

Life unconstant, as the moon
Waxing and waning in its glee
Many comrades gone too soon
Life goes on, as it shall forever be.

Wind and rain bring thunder in
And lightning from above the sea
Rattle, windowpanes and bones
As the storm shall forever be.

Love, it’s said, is a splendored thing
A great population know this not to be
They find no joy in life or love
And thus, cynics will forever be.

Life travels onward, ready or not
Yet readiness is key
For that inevitable end of life
Yes, for death, too, shall forever be.