Wings Made of Paper Poems

Mycelium Spring

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

13 Ways I am a Miracle - after Dana Kinsey

Pebble is a child of wonder

Stopping to watch inchworms cross sidewalks

Wishing on birthday candles

Working hard to earn sticker stars

Beacon is a woman of hope

Signalling to ships that have lost their way

Catching the sunlight on her face 

Keeping it clutched tight in her palms

Earnest is a young man of great intensity

Telling the truth rather than saving face

Investing himself in trivial matters

Experiencing every emotion harder than he thought possible

October is a creature of Autumn

Eating pumpkin pie and candy corn

Crunching fallen leaves beneath its feet

Collecting acorns and pine cones

Nobody is a person of absence

Melting into meadows; becoming the flowers

Letting the water hold them, move their body with its ripples

Being the atoms that are briefly person-shaped instead of the person

Patrocles is a lover of tragedy

Staying beside, until he cannot stomach it any longer

Dying first, dressed in his best friend's armor

Dooming the one he loves through his love

Eurydice is a ghost of forgiveness

Leaving her husband behind

Crossing the meadow; crossing the river

Smiling at him when he loses her for good

Larceny is a teen of the punk variety

Rebelling for any good reason

Dyeing to seem cool

Hanging out with vermin: rats, raccoons and possums

Ronan is a [razor/raiser] of dreams

Racing through the streets

Cutting like broken glass

Holding his dreams gently in his hands

Dante is a teacher of his best friend

Showing him how to swim

Bringing out his bravery

Letting him love him at his own pace

Comet is a native of the water 

Mimicking the heavens with streaming fins

Living happiest in large, still ponds

Looking up at a ceiling of lily pads

Precipitation is a keeper of clouds

Feeling alive on overcast days

Holding out every year for a monsoon

Greeting the rain with arms outstretched

Grace is an astronaut of circumstance

Making first contact with his best friend

Saving the stars 

Going home to a planet where everyone loves him

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Vera is an ice-cold knife of "truth"

Cutting at everything holding her

Knowing how to bear the pain of loneliness

Avoiding vulnerability at the cost of connection

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Albuquerque is a passenger of possibility

Gazing out at the journey

Longing for the destination

Knowing home is out there

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

13 Ways I am a Miracle - after Dana Kinsey

Pebble is a child of wonder

Stopping to watch inchworms cross sidewalks

Wishing on birthday candles

Working hard to earn sticker stars

Beacon is a woman of hope

Signalling to ships that have lost their way

Catching the sunlight on her face 

Keeping it clutched tight in her palms

Earnest is a young man of great intensity

Telling the truth rather than saving face

Investing himself in trivial matters

Experiencing every emotion harder than he thought possible

October is a creature of Autumn

Eating pumpkin pie and candy corn

Crunching fallen leaves beneath its feet

Collecting acorns and pine cones

Nobody is a person of absence

Melting into meadows; becoming the flowers

Letting the water hold them, move their body with its ripples

Being the atoms that are briefly person-shaped instead of the person

Patrocles is a lover of tragedy

Staying beside, until he cannot stomach it any longer

Dying first, dressed in his best friend's armor

Dooming the one he loves through his love

Eurydice is a ghost of forgiveness

Leaving her husband behind

Crossing the meadow; crossing the river

Smiling at him when he loses her for good

Larceny is a teen of the punk variety

Rebelling for any good reason

Dyeing to seem cool

Hanging out with vermin: rats, raccoons and possums

Ronan is a [razor/raiser] of dreams

Racing through the streets

Cutting like broken glass

Holding his dreams gently in his hands

Dante is a teacher of his best friend

Showing him how to swim

Bringing out his bravery

Letting him love him at his own pace

Comet is a native of the water 

Mimicking the heavens with streaming fins

Living happiest in large, still ponds

Looking up at a ceiling of lily pads

Precipitation is a keeper of clouds

Feeling alive on overcast days

Holding out every year for a monsoon

Greeting the rain with arms outstretched

Grace is an astronaut of circumstance

Making first contact with his best friend

Saving the stars 

Going home to a planet where everyone loves him

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Vera is an ice-cold knife of "truth"

Cutting at everything holding her

Knowing how to bear the pain of loneliness

Avoiding vulnerability at the cost of connection

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

"I'm not a particularly romantic person"

I confess

When you tell me how romantic it might be

To love someone who hurts you

(Even indirectly)

To love them stubbornly

And I think it's funny

How in another universe

One where you chose me

I'd confess the inverse

Maybe thats why you couldn't

I never would have learned to be cold

My heart would have been left open

I'd always neglect myself for love

But now I know we can't be friends

I confess it over and over in my head

Our lives are no longer compatible

You love her stubbornly

And I'm not a particularly romantic person

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Live Laugh Love - after Dickinson & Devers

Many imagine what it would be like

To be the Leader of the World,

President of Earth.

Standing above it all. In total control.

I'm much more inspired by 

an architect

designing solutions to problems

before they happen

creating a Goldberg machine 

of progress

and moving on to the next project

This community needs a park

I design benches comfortable

for a full night's rest

should anyone want it

I design a garden of local flora

fruits, vegetables, and flowers alike

ripe for anyone's picking

I design paths with cut curbs,

smooth and wide enough

for anyone to access

I hope they enjoy their park

I hope they make use of their library

I hope they feel the rumble

of the train on its tracks

and of their chest when they laugh

Live Laugh Love is a phrase

hoisted on it's own petard

its simple truth plastered

across one too many pillows

But I am committed to a world

where every day, everyone gets to

Live Laugh Love

I'm building it, block by block

Are you joining the effort?

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

An Artist's Eyes - after WC Quinn

I've been teaching myself 

to see with artist's eyes

Imagining how I'd lay it out

if the scene before me were my painting

tracing the contours of branches

painting with swaths of golden light

tinging every color it meets when they mix

finding where edges meet, blurring some

If I were a better artist

these studies would involve my canvas

my palette would be full of paint

my notebook filled with linework practice

but my interest in art is not about making

technically brilliant masterpieces

but just seeing the world in all its beauty

and expressing how it makes me feel

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Productivity Survey - after Mya Noelani

Today my self-care app asked:

"What makes a productive day for you?"

All my friends answered

The options were:

did what I wanted

something mattered

got in the flow

completed my to-do list

No one picked the first two

though those are valuable

agency and freedom

joy and gratitude

but the last two I was torn between

which felt more productive?

I decided I need not complete everything

to have produced something worthwhile

So I chose the pentultimate option.

I was the only one

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Poetry With Me - after Emma-Jane Barlow

After I explain to my joyfriend

how strange it feels

to be on the border of extroverted

and introverted

more extroverted than my best friend

(though I sometimes forget)

but slightly annoyed 

when, at a concert, 

the group expands 

including people I have never 

even wanted to meet

I find myself saying

"and that's kind of like a poem to me

"you know?"

and he nods,

still on the verge of shivering

so I hug him, to warm him up

and thank him for seeing 

the poetry with me

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Sitting Heavy in my Chest - after Jo Guzman

I already wrote a poem 

about my dear friend:

the neutron star

that lives in my heart,

so I suppose it is time

to write about the supernova

When I saw Oppenheimer 

I connected with the depiction 

of the atom bomb

the blinding white

the silence ringing in my ears

it all felt familiar

"So you experienced domestic violence"

my therapist says, in our intake session

I clarify that I was never abused,

I never even witnessed it

I could just hear yelling in another room

and I did my best to tune it out

But there are moments 

still ringing in my memory

where the crowd disintegrates

and my home is consumed

by the fire of a dying star

leaving behind only

my dear friend

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

13 Ways I am a Miracle - after Dana Kinsey

Pebble is a child of wonder

Stopping to watch inchworms cross sidewalks

Wishing on birthday candles

Working hard to earn sticker stars

Beacon is a woman of hope

Signalling to ships that have lost their way

Catching the sunlight on her face 

Keeping it clutched tight in her palms

Earnest is a young man of great intensity

Telling the truth rather than saving face

Investing himself in trivial matters

Experiencing every emotion harder than he thought possible

October is a creature of Autumn

Eating pumpkin pie and candy corn

Crunching fallen leaves beneath its feet

Collecting acorns and pine cones

Nobody is a person of absence

Melting into meadows; becoming the flowers

Letting the water hold them, move their body with its ripples

Being the atoms that are briefly person-shaped instead of the person

Patrocles is a lover of tragedy

Staying beside, until he cannot stomach it any longer

Dying first, dressed in his best friend's armor

Dooming the one he loves through his love

Eurydice is a ghost of forgiveness

Leaving her husband behind

Crossing the meadow; crossing the river

Smiling at him when he loses her for good

Larceny is a teen of the punk variety

Rebelling for any good reason

Dyeing to seem cool

Hanging out with vermin: rats, raccoons and possums

Ronan is a [razor/raiser] of dreams

Racing through the streets

Cutting like broken glass

Holding his dreams gently in his hands

Dante is a teacher of his best friend

Showing him how to swim

Bringing out his bravery

Letting him love him at his own pace

Comet is a native of the water 

Mimicking the heavens with streaming fins

Living happiest in large, still ponds

Looking up at a ceiling of lily pads

Precipitation is a keeper of clouds

Feeling alive on overcast days

Holding out every year for a monsoon

Greeting the rain with arms outstretched

Grace is an astronaut of circumstance

Making first contact with his best friend

Saving the stars 

Going home to a planet where everyone loves him

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Dirt-Bound - after Danielle Eleanor Lavalle

I have long since felt a kinship with dandelions

Sometimes in the way I feel close 

to all that is magic

Lucky pennies, four leaf clover, shooting stars

I look around and know that

anything could happen

but I believe good things will

Sometimes in the way I feel close

to all that is unloved

no one gently tended me either

and here we both are

Sometimes in the way I feel close

to all that is finding its way back to earth

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

How to Apologize - after E.E. Nisbet

Step 1: 

I did [transgress]

I made you feel [bad]

Step 2:

I feel sorry for [what I did]

I do not want to make you feel [bad]

Step 3:

I want to make you feel [good]

Would it help you feel better if I [repair]

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

The Neutron Star - after Dita Indradi

It hurts to realize

you did not grow as much

as you thought

That the absence of sadness 

did not mean you stopped being sad

just that you stopped feeling it

And once you open up the space

where you thought void resided

you discover your old friend

You thought you'd left her behind.

In your last assessment 

you no longer met the criteria for CPTSD

But there she is, 

burning hot, dense, magnetic, dead

All that's left of the supernova of your childhood

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Bred in Captivity - after Toni Young

My mom made me brush my hair

This sounds typical

but I was born with curls

so this created a course, frizzy mane

I hated the texture of my hair

and longed for silky smooth locks

Once I was 8 years old I understood 

that hair straighteners used heat.

We had a space heater in my living room

so I'd sit on the floor and brush my hair there

hoping to mimic its effects

Once I was 15 years old I was allowed

to change my hair however I liked

so my teal curls were kept straight

the spirals never allowed into the sunlight

scorched into compliance

Now I am 21 years old and understand

the way I felt about my curls

was a result of systemic oppression

that trivialized knowledge of curly hair.

The idealization of straight, fine hair

a by-product of white supremacy

And reclaiming my curls is a privilege 

not afforded to Black women

People tell me how much they love my hair

before calling hers unprofessional

So I swear to never 

take my hair texture

for granted again

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Losing Track - after Nicole Shepherd

I find it difficult to note the passage of time.

I tell myself at 9 AM, with bacon in the oven,

I have 5 hours until my therapy appointment.

I don't remember until she texts me to delay.

Then it's 5:30 and I haven't eaten in 8 hours,

so I take out my leftover pho from my fridge,

the one where so many cucumbers have rot.

I reheat it for a minute and half and its cold,

so 2 more, the broth is warm, the meat is not.

Another 2, it's hot to touch but ready to eat.

I listen to 2 albums, meaning to write 2 poems

but I have 41 hours of music already overdue

So I put on that playlist, the one meant to track

the moons, the seasons, the years, what I like,

how time changes me, when music changes me,

it is mostly another thing that takes up my time

I wonder what it would be like to feel every minute,

to know when an hour has passed, to hold a week,

in your head, and know how long it is. to know how

long a task will take before you start. it's not meant

for me

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

My Own Kind of Magic - after Sophia James

My mother tells the story of my birth

and how she had a vision

of all the women that came before her

and all the women that would come after me

with the two of us at its centermost point

me in her arms 

just barely no longer a part of her

The story now comes with qualifications

now that I don't want "my own" children

now that I take testosterone

it's only now that its gone that I miss it

it was presumptuous but 

it was also magical

I still don't want "my own" children

I still take testosterone

but I'm beginning to think

maybe that doesn't

not make me a woman

maybe several things can be true

maybe this has its own kind of magic

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Crystalis - after Kerena Joseline

If you've spent years walking around

inanimate,

only living when you were allowed

Don't be surprised

When Mister Rogers makes you cry

Or when you have to dance your anger out

And google if giggling is helpful

Or when less than 2 hours in a safe space

Cracks you open like a geode

Revealing all the jagged edges

And the ways you made yourself hollow

Your suffering wasn't beautiful

But maybe holding it up the light

And finally healing

will be

[the-sun-does-not-melt-ink]

Song for the Chronically Ill - after Amelia Wicker

Too many so-called experts

are too ready to dismiss

"it's probably just anxiety"

"try lowering your sodium intake"

"it might help if you lost some weight"

"sometimes people just faint"

They see themselves 

as the arbiters of health

you can't be sick 

without their say-so