Category: Poetry

Creative Writing, Poetry

Poetry: Nobody Nose.

kylefreelander

What if I had a nose brighter and redder than Rudolph’s?

Would I get to lead the sleigh?

Would other reindeer laugh and call me names?

Would Rudolph join in or would he be my friend?

What if he was jealous that I shine brighter than a ruby red diamond on the tip of Pinocchio’s nose?

“Who is Pinocchio?”

Do reindeer not know?

Would Rudolph like Pinocchio?

Would Pinocchio keep him as a pet?

What about Santa?

Would he allow that?

And what about me?

Will I ever be free to roam away from Santa’s sleigh?

To be a normal reindeer and play reindeer games? To be more than Pinocchio’s pet?

Better yet, would the world be okay with that?

Creative Writing, Poetry

Poetry: My Pumpkin Spice Latte

kylefreelander

You are my pumpkin-spice latte,

my reminder of fall,

of brisk days, kicking up leaves

and late nights by a bonfire

on a beach of partiers,

wrapped in your hoodie,

my warm safety net,

as I inhale your spice

and taste the sweetness

on your ever-convenient lips,

as I fall back under your spell

that gets me through the winter.

Creative Writing, Poetry

Poetry: For you–

kylefreelander

What I can never be:

the “I love you” that lies in your arms at bed time,

the fire that warms your home,

the echo to your “It’s Monday” groan,

the perfume on your pillow,

the smile on your face,

the reason you rush home from work every day,

the hand you hold when you are lost,

the heart you kiss,

the words needed to remember your coffee,

the fashion consultant you need come laundry day,

the breakfast of champions,

the sweetest alarm clock,

the quietest “I love you,”

and the bravest hello.

What I can always be:

the reminder that you are loved,

the words that warm your soul through the paper,

the distant companion to your “It’s Monday” groan,

the perfume in a love letter,

the smile on your phone,

the person you call on your way home from work,

the one you reach for when you’re lost,

the heart that longs for you,

the text to remember your coffee,

the blind eye come laundry day,

the champion of breakfast,

the quietest alarm clock,

the sweetest, “I love you,”

and the bravest hello

I never thought would become

a goodbye.

Creative Writing, Poetry

Poetry: You

kylefreelander

You are known to some but not to me.

 

You are a stranger,

merely a person I long to meet.

 

You are a classmate,

someone whose name I can’t remember,

a face I never could forget.

 

You are my friend,

developed from the vaguest acquaintance,

our conversations lengthy,

our hangouts memorable.

 

You are my secret,

with your charming words,

like a blanket on a rainy day,

you provided me with comfort,

that was quickly taken away.

 

You are my love,

your hand a home,

inviting me over,

crowded yet comfortable,

I wanted nothing more than to stay,

but you knew it was better to let me go.

 

Creative Writing, Poetry

Poetry: Encore

kylefreelander

I watch as he stretches the rubber band,

listening as it claps with his wrist

sounding like an encore

but begging for me to stop.

I can’t; I’ve already started

and I must go on

angering him,

alarming myself.

It smacks again,

more words pour out,

confessions I need to make:

I have to leave.

He rises from his chair,

a standing ovation

I was taught never to want.

I race to the door

but he won’t let me go,

slapping me into place,

enforcing his grip on me.

Years with him made me weak,

but I had finally grown strong

with the distinct desire to be free

from his binding rule.

A round of applause —

I try to run

—too late.

The rubber band snaps,

a wild animal set loose;

I’m the only prey in sight.

I fall to the floor,

too weak to get up,

too weak to leave.

I just lie there,

cold wood pressed against my skin,

staring at the green strand

that was once so innocent

upon his thick wrist.

Now it lies on the ground

abandoned,

left for broken,

with me.

By: Kyle Freelander