to all the girls out there...

you are beautiful.

you are loved, and you are worthy of love.

jesus came after you!
you have been

you are like a diamond amongst the pebbles.

wishing you were a little skinnier, a little taller,
a little less pimpley, a little more busty here of there....
is a little like wishing the milky way
could have a little more stars,
or the lilies a little more petals,
or the birds a little more song.


don't you see?
you are a masterpiece
a sonatina by mozart
or a symphony by Beethoven
perfect in every note, every chord,
every intricately woven thread of awesomeness

your life is a tapestry
every colour, every thread,  
chosen, calculated
yet still, every inch remains a mystery
until it is the artist is finished

So don't you worry, darling
when you look in the mirror and hate what you see
because there is a creator who loves what He sees.

True beauty
is beneath the chiffon, the beads, the lace
but rather in the eyes
eyes that speak of a greater story
of one who came after you.

so remember, my friend
when you look,
try to see the things of this world
are already

The finest silk and makeup for the corpses?
Silly!

Free Verse Poem - As you did

You told me
once upon a time
that you too would grow old
and I told you
impossible
you’re superwoman!

But now as my belly grows bigger
and your body grows smaller
I see now
what you meant

So for now
I will love you
as you loved me

When the road ahead seems too endless
and the clouds above your head too thick to push past
when you’ve fallen too far into the well
there I will be
with my rope
and my glue
ready to pull you up
or glue you back together
as you did for me

I will be your Dimetapp in the late nights
and your earl grey tea in the mornings
I will be your “someone”
that doesn’t just give you a shoulder
or a hand
when I know you need a spine
And when your rain boots grow holes
I will splash my bare feet alongside yours
as you did with me

I will walk by your side
when the days are bright
sharing your butterflies and cherry blossoms
or run by your side
when the fire's blaze is on your heels
and when the day comes that you can walk no more
mine will be the footprints
carrying yours
as you did for me

And on that day when the pills and diapers take over
when your feet can no longer walk themselves
I will be there
to feed you by your favourite spoon
or to comb your silver hair
as you did for me

But for now
like squirrels in the autumn
I will save up your smiles
and kisses
and bear hugs
for when the rain comes pouring down
I can take them from the hidden corners of my pocket
and piece together
what I have left
of your face
your scent
your touch
your voice

For now
I will love you
and love her
her with her little hands that wrap around my thumb
and pink wrinkled face
and eyes that haven’t learned to open
I will love her
as you loved me

Superwoman

Spoken Word/Free Verse 

You told me
once upon a time
that you too would grow old
like grandmother
a prisoner of her own body
but you see
I refused
to let those words infect my ear
I refused
to believe it
impossible
you are superwoman
impossible

But now as my belly grows bigger
and your body grows smaller
I understand what those words on my deaf ears
really meant

So I will linger on each fragile moment
loving you

When the desert road seems too endless
and the clouds above your head too thick to push past
when you’ve fallen too far into the well
there I will be with you
with my rope
and my tape
ready to hold you up
or pick you up from your shattered pieces
taping you together
piece by piece
as you did for me

I will be your Dimetapp in the late nights and early mornings
your earl grey tea
with two sugars and one milk in the afternoon
as you were for me

My pancakes and butter will waft through your linen dreams
I will be your “someone”
that doesn’t just give you a shoulder
or a hand
when I know you need a spine

When your rain boots grow holes
I will splash my bare feet alongside yours
as you did with me

My footprints will line the mud beside yours
I will walk by your side
when the days are bright
sharing your butterflies and cherry blossoms
run by your side
when the fire's blaze is too hot to stay
and when the day comes that you can walk no more
mine will be the footprints
carrying yours
as you did for me

But some days, most days
I don’t want to face it
I don’t want it to be true that the day will come
that day
when your body stops dying
and your hugs turn cold

So once again
I lend my deaf ear
to the voices that whisper
tick tock
I bury that truth
because I will not bury you

I don’t want to see the colour on your face flush
the skin beneath your eyes sink into your face
or the fingers that stroked my newborn skin and hair
frozen
in time
always the victim of time

God, can’t you spare a moment or two?
command the sun to walk back a couple steps
tell the hands on the clock to forget about its job
if only the words
in the book of time could be erased
this must be some mistake in the your blueprints
some slight wrinkle in the universe
forgotten to be ironed
a slip in the poet's hand
perhaps an angel sneezed as you were at the drawing table
no
no

Your plan is perfect
I know it

So I will let that day come
when the pills and diapers take over
when your feet can no longer walk themselves
I will be there
to feed you by your favourite spoon
as you once did for me
to comb your thin silver hair
as you once did for me

I guess for now
like the squirrels that scamper the leaf strewn autumn
I will save up your smiles
and rocket blown kisses
and bear hugs
and jellyfish pinches
and Santa Claus laughter
for when the rain comes pouring down on the windowsill
I can take them from the hidden corners of my pocket
and piece together
one by one
what I have left
of your face
your scent
your touch
your voice

So I will linger on each fragile moment
loving you
and loving her
her and her little hands that wrap around my thumb
and pink wrinkled face
with her eyes that haven’t yet learned to open
I will love her
as you did for me

Jealousy and the Cat

Jealousy is the cat on your windowsill

You, sitting there with no one but your lonely self
Enjoying a nice hot cup of tea beside your warm fireplace
Then suddenly you meet eyes with
It

It is lonely, sad, shivering in the cold blisters outside
It appears to be warm and fuzzy and enchanting
It seems harmless
So you let it in
Let it into your dwelling
But your longing eyes pierce into the depths of its ice-cold soul
Revealing its true self
The selfish parasitic monster
That desires nothing from you except food
Nothing but to
Consume your
Cold
Dead
Body

My Wart

The spinach in your teeth is the wart on my toe

Your teeth are beautiful, really
As is my toe
It’s your pride and joy, I know
As is my toe

But you got a little something
Stuck
Right there
Somewhere between the left one
And the right one
You know,
The one in the middle of your face

Ugh this whole tooth situation
It’s bugging me
Like my wart
It gnashes my soul every time I think about it

Like my wart

So I try to ignore it
Like my wart

But I can’t

Like my wart
I must

I have to 

I need to
Just
Pick at it

Like my wart 

So I do
And then it hurts me
Like you do
When I tell you
That ya got a little some’n
Right
There

Love of My Life

(Half Cento, half original)

You tore the night apart
and ripped the silent skies in half
your light breaks through dark
here our worlds collide

Divinity in man confined
you hold the ends of time
yet placed yourself here into mine
my life never the same

In silence
heaven whispered out
took me up in arms
wide and warm
enveloped in light
in a world of darkness
once broken, in chains
now it’s the chains that are broken

Tearing through the veil of darkness
you’ve set me free
the scandal of grace
you died in my place
so my soul
might
live

A reckless love
too wild to understand
you own the skies and still
you want my heart
casting your throne aside
to lift me up

You, who loved me
when I hated you
you, who chose to carry
all my shame
I’m done chasing shadows
Jesus here I am

Lead me through
the fire
and rain
your blood is the life
running through my veins

King of Heaven
on the earth be found
Emmanuel
God with us

So I will rest in your embrace
for I am yours
and you are mine
my heart on your heart
and my eyes on yours 


Cento Poem: a poem composed of verses taken from other authors, disposed in a new form or order.

Miss Penny

          It’s the people who are least likely to transform our lives that do.

          Ten years ago, my sister and I had this piano teacher, Miss Penny (even the name sounds adorable right?). Neither of us can remember exactly how long she taught us, but for the few months - or years - that she did, she had inspired a love for music and teaching. We only had her for a short while since she needed to clear up her schedule for her ARCT Performer’s (she got her teacher’s certificate while in university so after she got her PhD in biochemistry (I know, smart and adorable!) she went for the performer’s certificate just for the fun of it).  But before she let us out the door at our last lesson, she brought me into the kitchen, gave me a blue plush flower key chain (which naturally I lost… but it’s ok because my sister still had her white one which I “adopted”…), and gave me a letter (which I lost). The letter said things like how she loved teaching me and how (even then) she could see my musicality. But what really struck me was what she wrote at the end: “I think you’re going to make a really great piano teacher one day”. (Awww! Enter waterworks…)

            

            These past few weeks –especially since my big piano teaching exams are right around the corner- I’ve been thinking about the impact that one little letter has made on my life. From that moment, she incited this obsession in me of wanting to inspire, to share what I love, to be that ‘Miss Penny’ for others.

So that’s what I see myself doing ten years from now: teaching the world to see music for what it truly is. That it’s not just ink on paper, but a soul’s longings poured out in a moment of abandoned solitude, a colourful tapestry of intricately woven vibrations, a letter from the past read out loud to thousands, a painting of hope on the canvas of death’s silence, a rebel’s war cry in a plume of blood and disaster…. As you might already be thinking, I could go on… and on… and on… and on… but I won’t J to save you some brain cells. (Thank me later.) Every Saturday morning, as I’m sitting beside my adorable kids (piano students… I call them my kids… don’t judge -_-) I can count on this tingly feeling of equilibrium to fill the very tendrils of my body. That teacher’s chair, that piano, those kids, that’s where I’m meant to be. That’s my ‘ecological niche’ in the world (as my sciencey dork self would call it).

            It’s quite funny really, how freakishly accurate Miss Penny turned out to be. My mom remembers how she predicted my sister would only make it up to the advanced level and quit because she lacked patience. This of course came true for that reason exactly. Amazing it is how life can only be understood backwards. My sister and I were on the brink of quitting when we had to transfer to this horrible old hag of a piano teacher (ok not that bad, but still pretty bad). But just as we were thinking of giving up, Miss Penny called and told us about her teacher who taught her up to her teachers’ level. To this day, I’m still studying with her (well, mine now) teacher.