KNOWING THE BUTTERFLY

Was it better to know the butterfly

as he flew about the vegetable garden,

or to have simply seen him as a passerby

enjoying his stay in the sunshine?

 

Perhaps if I’d known him, he’d have stopped

and helped me along with my planting,

or told me a story about sunflowers

and how they made a magnificent landing;

 

but having never met, he stopped all the same

and waited hesitantly at the head of the gate,

fluttering his wings, faintly ready to fly away,

and that distant beauty wasn’t lost in friendly banter.

——

 

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MIRRORS (AND OTHER HAIKUS)

Red Dawn

Another day gone

waiting for the sun to shine

through sanguine curtains.

 

Leaves

My sandals are lost

in the labyrinth of leaves

lying on the ground.

 

Benches in the Rain

The park bench awaits

the return of little legs

kicking empty air.

 

Unexpected Friends

Under the arbors,

the rain spotted me sitting,

and comforted me.

 

Mirrors

She hides in her eyes

so only her reflection

will really see her.

——

Hello there!

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Feel free to share any of my work!

 

You can follow me on social media! 🙂

Instagram: @cassadyblog

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Facebook: @cassadyorha

LOVE POEM #34 – SOLACE FOUND

I’ve never seen a more handsome couple

Than my best friend and his hesitant bride.

Which isn’t to say that either’s supple,

But that no lovers exhibit such pride.

He’s round ‘bout the edges, and pudgy too;

With a mouth you can’t take home to mother.

And he loves to make a hullabaloo

By saying that they don’t love each other.

And I’m not quite sure I’d call her a catch.

She’s quiet, and a tad bit annoying.

She’s the kind of girl that would leave a scratch,

And I would prob’bly find disappointing.

Yet together, somehow, they pirouette,

Like he’s Romeo to her Juliet.

——

 

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FRIEND ZONED

Hello everyone,

 

Today I wanted to discuss the dreaded “friend zone.” Which is a term I strongly dislike, but at the same time have experienced the feelings that tie to what people often deem “the friend zone.” Before I get into it, in case you’ve been living under a rock (or perhaps you don’t really date nowadays), the friend zone is a space in which a love interest of a person does not reciprocate that person’s interests, however both people still want to be friends. I hear this situation come up most commonly where girls tells guys they think of them as a friend, rather than a romantic partner, though that may be simply my experience. I do not hear women talk about being “friend zoned” often at all.

Ok, so I don’t like the term “friend zone” because it dismisses one person’s opinion. I mean, not literally, in the sense that the person in the friend zone is willing to stay there, but it indicates that the relationship is not what that person wants it to be, despite the fact that being friends is what makes the other person comfortable. The friend wants to be able to say to this person “man I’m having problems with a crush,” and not have them say something stupid back, like “well if we went on a date I’d treat you right.” That does not help them. That’s selfish. I think it is reasonable to assume that if they are friends with that person, they probably view that person as a decent human being.

That being said, it is also a reasonable reaction to a situation in this day and age (what, you thought I would just cram my opinion down your throat? Nah, that’s not what we’re here for). Lets think about it. Today is often about being sensitive to the needs and feelings of others. If someone doesn’t appreciate something, they should be able to tell that person how they feel. Someone should never feel trapped. There is always the opportunity to leave, but there is not always the opportunity to stay. Let’s take a Hollywood cliché love example. Guy loves girl, girl rejects guy, but he persists until she eventually comes around. I mean, everyone adores Beauty and the Beast, and that’s pretty much how it goes, right? So if this is the rhetoric that everyone hears, then it’s not unreasonable for a guy to be expected to persist, is it? The idea that love follows rejection leads to ignoring rejection. It reduces the “we are not dating” mentality to “we are not dating right now.”

This concept is supported in our culture in all ways. “Don’t give up,” “hard work pays off,” and so on. If a person just tries hard enough, they can be whatever they want. Even happily married. There’s something romantic about crossing a barrier to win over a loved one. Which I think is what the thought process is for those who believe in the friend zone. They think their interest just has not seen the beauty of them yet. Which is a hard thing to disagree with, especially when we aren’t willing to ignore the feelings of others.

——

 

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MY FRIEND

My friend, how often do you cry?

I see the remnants on your cheeks

And the cold, damp stains on your sheets.

Yet there is no red in your eye.

 

My friend, how often do you hide?

I see the mask of gold smiles

And the fancy perfume vials.

Yet neither is at your bedside.

 

My friend, what is it you feel?

I see sorrow dance on your lips

With each of those martini sips.

Is there nothing I can heal?

 

My friend, please tell me what to do,

I want to see what is in your soul;

To be the one who makes you whole,

Because I love your point of view.

 

Or rather, my friend, because I love you.

——

 

Hello there!

 

Did you like this poem? Let me know by leaving a like and a comment!

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BIRTHDAY POEM

Happy birthday my friend

Whom I barely know.

Birthday wishes I send

‘Cause you make my heart go.

I couldn’t get a gift

‘Cause I didn’t have time

So let me mend our rift

With some poetic rhyme.

You are so beautiful

With your lips and your hair.

You turn me to a fool

When we are together.

I cherish when we walk

To our class in the rain

Though every time you talk

You cleft my heart in twain.

For though I am a friend-

One I adore to be-

I’ll be sad in the end,

As my heart is for thee.

 

Though in truth you deserve

The most perfect of men.

One with a valiant nerve,

Who is more than a pen.

 

So write your own tale,

For the thing that makes you

Is that you don’t pale

When people speak untrue.

THE GRIDDLE

HOL-Y CRAP

I just ate the griddle

No, not the pan.

I mean THE griddle
The pancake place

Off Sunset

In LA.

Never heard of it?
Look it up

Drive out

Wait 40 minutes

And take a seat.
Make sure you bring a friend.

It’s dangerous to go alone.

The pancakes.

They’re HUGE.
They’re like tiny moon

Perfectly rounded

Full of mystery

But you can eat them.
Except you can’t.

You’ll never survive a short stack alone.
But take your pick:

Banana

Oreo

Red velvet

The list goes on.
Breathe in the Vermont syrup smell

Watch your worries

Wash away

And enjoy your stay

I WROTE YOU A POEM

I wrote a poem for you

But I didn’t think you’d want it.

So I let it go.

I let it fly out across the wind

Up and up

Until I couldn’t see it again.

And I’m told it flew so far

That it passed through storms

And sunny skies alike.

Until, finally, it landed

In a hot, vapid fire

And it was consumed

For the paper fuel it was.

 

In that way, I suppose,

It was like me.

THE CAVE

In the valley there is a Cave

To which few people get to have

More than a moment to visit.

Yet when in my youth I viewed it

I came to find the love of life.

It’s the sanctuary from strife,

The protector against the cold,

For all people, from young to old.

 

When I heard that the Cave collapsed,

All the memories that had lapsed

Came to the forefront of my head,

To mourn that a great man were dead.

THE JOURNEY OF A BEARD

A beard is like an age old friend;

One both constant yet forgotten.

Mine own shades himself like autumn;

Brown with reds to speckle and blend.
And yet, he is also like me.

Once, he was a spry and young thing,

Until life showed what it had to bring.

Now we all know what he can be.
But there is still time for a change.

Shaved, he can be reborn anew,

To show the world what he can do;

Prove nothing to be out of range.
Or, he can sit around and gray,

And watch his strength begin to wane.

To fester his own life’s disdain.

Until white winter comes to say:
“Let me take these hard years from you.

No more kin, and much less than kind.

With me, on your journey you’ll find

The sleep you’ve wished for to be true”
A good friend would not let this pass,

He would grasp the bristles of life,

Like a beard in moments of strife,

And show he had more line to cast.

 

Hello everyone,

 

I recently became able to grow a (small) beard, and my mother challenged me to write a poem about it. So I did. Let me know what you think! It’s a little weird, I know.