This poem is very longSo long, in fact, that your attention spanMay be stretched to its very limitsBut that’s okayIt’s what’s so special about poetrySee, poetry takes timeWe live in a timeCall it our culture or societyIt doesn’t matter to me cause neither one rhymesA time where most people don’t want to listenOur throats wait like matchsticks waiting to catch fireWaiting until we can speakNo patience to listenBut this poem is longIt’s so long, in fact, that during the time of this poemYou could’ve done any number of other wonderful thingsYou could’ve called your fatherCall your fatherYou could be writing a postcard right nowWrite a postcardWhen was the last time you wrote a postcard?You could be outsideYou’re probably not too far away from a sunrise or a sunsetWatch the sun riseMaybe you could’ve written your own poemA better poemYou could have played a tune or sung a songYou could have met your neighborAnd memorized their nameMemorize the name of your neighborYou could’ve drawn a picture(Or, at least, colored one in)You could’ve started a bookOr finished a prayerYou could’ve talked to GodPrayWhen was the last time you prayed?Really prayed?This is a long poemSo long, in fact, that you’ve already spent a minute with itWhen was the last time you hugged a friend for a minute?Or told them that you love them?Tell your friends you love them…no, I mean it, tell themSay, I love youSay, you make life worth livingBecause that, is what friends doOf all of the wonderful things that you could’ve doneDuring this very, very long poemYou could have connectedMaybe you are connectingMaybe we’re connectingSee, I believe that the only things that really matterIn the grand scheme of life are God and peopleAnd if people are made in the image of GodThen when you spend your time with peopleIt’s never wastedAnd in this very long poemI’m trying to let a poem do what a poem does:Make things simplerWe don’t need poems to make things more complicatedWe have each other for thatWe need poems to remind ourselves of the things that really matterTo take timeA long timeTo be alive for the sake of someone else for a single momentOr for many momentsCause we need each otherTo hold the hands of a broken personAll you have to do is meet a personShake their handLook in their eyesThey are youWe are all broken togetherBut these shattered pieces of our existence don’t have to be a messWe just have to care enough to hold our tongues sometimesTo sit and listen to a very long poemA story of a lifeThe joy of a friend and the grief of friendTo hold and be heldAnd be quietSo, prayWrite a postcardCall your parents and forgive them and then thank themTurn off the TVCreate art as best as you canShare as much as possible, especially moneyTell someone about a very long poem you once heardAnd how afterward it brought you to them.

As long as there arehuman beings aboutthere is never going to beany peacefor any individualupon this earth (oranywhere elsethey mightescape to).All you can dois maybe grabten lucky minuteshereor maybe an hourthere.Somethingis working toward youright now, andI mean youand nobody butyou.

The light needs only our trustAnd, of course, the darknessTo work its eternal alchemy.

Can we share my eyes so you can see what I see?Can we share my ears so you can hear what I hear?Can you perch on my shouldersso you can go where I go?Always in my heart, I don’t experience anything separate from you.This shared wonderment becomes doubled.This shared love becomes infinite.

If only you would realize some day, how much have you hurt me,If only your heart ever, craves for me or my presence…If only you feel that love again someday for me,If only you are affected someday by my absence…Only you can end all my suffering and this unbearable pain,If only you would know what you could never procure…If only you go through the memories of past once again,Since the day you left my heart has bled, no one has its cure…If only you would bring that love, those showers and that rain…If only you would come back and see what damage you create,I’ve been waiting for your return since forever more…If only you would see the woman that you have made,You said we cannot sail through, how were you so sure?If only you can feel the old things that can never fade,You may have moved on, but a piece of my heart is still with you…I know how I’ve come so far alone; I know how I’m able to wade,People say that I’m insane and you won’t ever come back again…Maybe you would have never made your separate way,Maybe you would have stayed with me and proved everyone wrong…If only you would know the pain of dying every day,If only you would feel the burden of smiling and being strong….

Why are you so scared and creeping around,taking photographs all over town,pictures in the dark that live in the light,the world is my playground too and I’ll do what I like.

A poem is a place where the conditions of beyondness and withinness are made palpable, where to imagine is to feel what it is like to be. It allows us to have the life we are denied because we are too busy living. Even more paradoxically, a poem permits us to live in ourselves as if we were just out of reach of ourselves.

O, flower! If you bloom with love in spring, will you understand if my soul sings?

She wore her scarsas her best attire.A stunning dressmade of hellfire.

And you’re a tall drink of water because we’re so fucking thirsty.