I wished for you
excessively.
  greedily.
     immeasurably.
I craved you for days on end
and finally,
   finally.
I got to see the way
your lips form around the precipice
   of my name;
I felt your hand on my waist
as your touch provokes every minute nerve  
      in my body;
I drowned myself in the  
   depth of your eyes
that glisten with wonder as you    
      decipher
the spell you've cast upon me
and how it speaks volumes of every
   fairytale ever made;
and I have had a taste of all of this
    I've had you
    right within my breadth,
just until the warmth
    of the rising sun
  kissed my eyelids awake,
like the tender whisper of the    
       cosmos
or the discordant bellowing
of the void
   as it reminds me:
      You are unattainable.
Right then again I was able to  
   comprehend
that you will remain an illusion to me
      until our paths cross once more
   and in that moment,
nothing will be capable of surpassing
      the bewitchment
   the resplendence
the luminance
of the mere reality that is you

To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.

To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel

Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities

Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.

I refuse to give up hope;  
This could be a poem world.

Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.

Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,

Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.

Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,

So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.

Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,

That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow

And dream the world right.
Write the world right.

There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.

And you're a tremor through the
nerves of my body
And you're an echo in the grooves of
my brain
And every color turns grey under
moonlight
And every breath I take is laced with
the pain
They attack me when I close my eyes
Attach their membranes to the fuses
in my ribs
I host the terrors in my heart like a
lavish hotel,
But they rip me apart all the same

This one is for the girls
For the girls who wake up at the crack of dawn
To stare down the standards of beauty built by a society
Who says that your bones are more beautiful than your curves
That your ****** has more value than your words
This one is for the girls who go through their day
Expected to only to smile
Only to say happy words
Even if their world inside is crashing around them.
This one is for the girls
Who endure the side glances,
Because they don't fit into the cookie cutter
that has been so strategically built
By the media
To break down the strong mind of girls and to leave in them in a heap on the side of the road
So that the only time they feel beautiful
Is when they hear catcalls of the passers byers
Leaving them starving
Starving their body
starving their mind
Little by little killing the spirit that was once so strong inside them
And yet all concerns seem to be silenced
This one is for the girls who
Cut open the cookie cutter that has been created
To cut the independent woman down to size
Who carve out a door way in this cookie cutter
As a light to shine at the end of the tunnel
This one is for the girls
Who never lose hope
For the girls who refuse to allow their ****** to hold their entire self worth
This is for the girls who
Refuse to allow the mass media to tell them that they are not beautiful
For the girls who have become the shining star
For the girls who are still discovering their own strength as their wound heal
This is for the girls searching for hope in a dark place
Hoping to find stars in the sky that are close enough they can touch
This one is for the girls
Keep on going
Don't lose yourself in this world
Hold your head up high

And show them the strength of a woman.

I can't be the star that
your wishes ride on,
I'm trying to illuminate
enough light to keep myself
burning.