Where The Pen Falls by S.J Rowe (booksvooks TXT) 📖

keep us safe
While you worked.
But Mom, I now know doors
Will close no more.
I'm too old not to see how
Your strength through heartbreak
Kept our walls solid through hurricanes.
Too old not to see how God saved you
From the hands of a man who never knew
How to love anything besides himself or rum

Too old not to see the way your smile
Radiates as your best friend, your king,
Your angel, embraces you with a kiss warmer
Than the July sun.
Because I remember that December day
When I tried to fight the devil away from
Our home.
I remember the look in his eyes as he told
ME not to cry,
But your eyes remained dry.
Because YOU have always been strong for US.
Mother, you are a queen.
If I never say it enough I thank you
For surviving for me.
If I never say it enough, you deserve this life
God has destined for you.
One day I pray I can find
A castle on a hill
For you to shine
Because Mother, you are a queen.

The Worst

 They think a poet's worst fear is running out
Of words.
What happens when you can't say
I love you through adjectives.
What would happen if your lines
Suddenly fell short like your
Attempt to woe her in the rain.
Would it be the worst thing?
Could it be the worst thing?
Is it the fear of a poet to run out of words ?
Probably not.
Because the poetry takes on a form of discovery
In which you find yourself inevitably
Finding new ways to say you're
Brighter than a New York City skyline.
Because a writer's greatest fear is never being written about.
Sometimes the poet just wants to be the poem.
Sometimes they wish to be painted upon
On a blank canvas.
To be seen as lyrically as the muse which
Lingers along the tip of a ballpoint pen.
The draft to the next page
Which sits awaiting
The curves of cursive along every
Stanza.
Sometimes the poet just wants to be the poem.
Then again, not everyone's a writer.

What Do You See in the Sea

 Sometimes the eye sees something
Unseen by the world.
You walk by on a shore, unsure.
Because though you can see
Your footprints embedded in the sand.
You know the waves have a way of
Washing them
Away.
As average as these steps seem,
The sea has a way of illuminating
Hidden beauties.
And sometimes you choose to
Stop and take in the view.
You were looking at the waves, but she
Was looking at you.

For Magicians

 You tripped over your words
While falling in love,
Like the way an ice cube runs
Along your back,

A chill in your spine and
A warmth in your heart
And a kiss to your lips
As you squint and wonder
Have I known you my entire life?
And unlike the equations you've
Had to justify your entire life,
1+1 could simply equal two
In an undeniable strike of magic.
And suddenly the only questions seemed
To be,
How could one not see the beauty of
The parenthesis that surround your smile.
And you make love in midnight
just so you can trace the moonlight
About a body,
This body which you call shelter.
And when you dance you never close
Your eyes for fear of missing
The turn,
A twirl
Around your arm
But by God, you'd rather spin on the axis
Of this heart.
You say you don't believe in magic,
But have you ever seen the way
Two lips say everything
Without anything at all?

Lost and Found

 Carrying hate in your heart is like
A loaded gun

And without intent
You may fire away

Breaking the roots of happiness

You too often forget to water.
Let your heart emulate your
Soul.
For the most important things
To be said
Need no saying at all.
It is written upon your face
Like the lines in a marble notebook.
Radiate in the dark And be a light for those not yet found.

Peeling Onions May Induce Tears

 There is a numbness I use as a means
Of survival.
Aloof, distancing myself from the inner core.
Though curiosity might draw you to scratch the surface,
You, would have to sit on rocky mountains
Unpeeling the layers and layers of my soul
Like the cell membrane of an onion.
And I know that there is a magnetic attraction to loving the "unloveable," the "mysterious," "the broken," But I encourage you to know that the lever
Is there to be pulled
Before the start of a ride.
And I stamped a family portrait in my heart, but it's filled with silhouette's and my gazing stare.
Because I dream of coming home to the tiny footsteps running along a creaky floor,
To swing my greatest gift into the air like a kite,
And kiss my saving grace like the last first date on a cool autumn night,
And I dream to be that safety net
To be that protection
Though in the weight of the potential,
Of being shelter
Of being chosen
Of being loved,
There is a stinging chance of rebuttal
And there is a numbness I use as a means of survival.

Phantom Girl and Dandelions for Romantics.

 The hardest goodbyes are the ones never said
and maybe you never said goodbye
Because you didn't want to be burdened with the weight of my broken heart.
It took 22 days to find
200 ways
To say,
You loved me,
But I was strong enough to take the heart break.
And you drifted away like an old text.
To my surprise my heart didn't capsize like the last time I felt this way.
If the first cuts the deepest, the second must be better at healing.
Phantom girl
Just know, no matter where you go
You deserve to be happy.
You are beautiful
Whether you are seen
And especially when you are unseen.
And maybe I'm a walking irony, to have loved beautiful girls who never belonged to me.
But just like a dandelion,
I close my eyes, make a wish, and blow.
For whoever may land on me one day
Might choose,
To
Stay.

 

Watching the Rain

 We leave artifacts behind everyday.
Lipstick stain on the coffee mug.
Dead ends in the hair brush.
Sweaty sock in the laundry basket.
Half eaten toast and rain filled umbrellas.
Ever single day we leave behind pieces of ourselves like breadcrumbs in hopes that
One day someone will follow them
Through.
One day,
You wiggle into your hoodie
Only to find her scented fragrance
Clinging to the fleece
Like a piece of lint.
You find the way your fitted tshirt
Fits unfit
Because of how it hugs her body
Which has now