Blind

There are days
after seeing all the beautiful variation in strangers irises

there are days
where I wish that everyone
was blind.

so they would decide to trust someone
based on the gentleness of their touch
rather than their choice in clothing

designer brands would quickly fade
we would wrap ourselves in the most comfortable fabrics
nothing skin tight to show off curves-
no one would be looking, anyway.
me?
I would dress in loose cotton
and everything underneath
would be made of pure silk

I wish that everyone was blind
so they could read with their fingertips
so that the next time they touch the face of their lover
they could understand the messages etched into their weathered skin
by the passing of days

I wish that everyone was blind
so they would be less self conscious of their appearance
solve this mass media binge feeding young girls
with how they should look by the time they're 16
we wouldn't care
we would put all our efforts into making our voices rival those of songbirds
imagine-
instead of trying to act sexy
we could show off our beautiful selves
by singing.

I wish everyone was blind
so that people
might actually
start
listening.

turn their ears to voices that have always been unheard
children who are crying for justice
passionate youth who believe that we can cause change
and of course
all the wonderful poets who wear their hearts in their throats and carry their own soapboxes like thrones

I wish that everyone was blind
because in this visual oriented society
it might result in us
actually learning something about ourselves.

Dear poetry- full version

Dear Poetry,

I am sorry that I have neglected you recently.
I have not forgotten you
I can only hope
that you have not forgotten me

you have been weaving through my mind
like circular kalaidoscopes
ever changing windmills
that peacefully circle my sleepy mind
why must you visit me when there is no pen and paper to be found?

I have missed you.
if you have disappeared from my dreams
because you no longer found me worthy
this
is an apology
and a plea for your return

I need you.
do not leave me
wordless and without both rhyme and reason
do not betray me with mental treason
and kiss me with lips dripping with abandonment issues

If you will not speak, then I will say it first
I love you.

I cannot remember the last time I wrote from the heart
and for that, I am sorry
I have neglected you
but I have not abandoned you
I can only hope that you
have not done the same

Dear poetry,

I have always been yours. Do not think I have strayed.
You have been with me every moment
tucked into scrap paper and draft messages on my phone
or the inner crevices of my arms when paper was hard to come by
I will never abandon you.

Dear poetry,

I am sorry I have neglected you recently.
It was not intentional
see, there's this boy
rather, this man

He has stolen all my words
and my rhythym
so when you ask me to whisper sweet nothings to you
I find only nothings resting upon my lips
waiting to flutter to your eardrums and leave you less than satisfied

Dear poetry,

You know I am a perfectionist
and all I have wanted to write about
is the giant wave crashing earth shaking musical melodies that this man plays on my skin with his fingertips
I have not been unfaithful to you, I promise
but you should see his eyes
they encompass the entire ocean
with all of its beautiful tidal shifts
he is my tsunami bound by the body of a fighter
who somehow knows how to be gentle
he traces patterns from the pulse throbbing indentation on my neck
to my caged rib chest
down to the backs of my knees
and back up to the butterfly between my thighs
and makes my hearbeat go wild

he is hypnosis fixated on no particular goal
he is serenity threaded with breaths of chaos
he is an overdose of jazz music
you know,
something good to dance to
full of rich saxophones and bass drums that make you sway long after you've lost the energy to move

dear poetry,
he moves me.
I'm not saying that you don't
I'm saying that he has shown me how much can be said
when words are left for a later time

I am still faithful to you
but for now,
I have few things to say
that cannot be written into the silent parts of his skin

your faithful lover,
V rabbit

P.S.
you really should see his eyes
then you would understand how I am so captivated.

Dear Poetry, part 2

Dear poetry,

I am sorry I have neglected you recently.
It was not intentional
see, there's this boy
rather, this man

He has stolen all my words
and my rhythym
so when you ask me to whisper sweet nothings to you
I find only nothings resting upon my lips
waiting to flutter to your eardrums and leave you less than satisfied

Dear poetry,

You know I am a perfectionist
and all I have wanted to write about
is the giant wave crashing earth shaking musical melodies that this man plays on my skin with his fingertips
I have not been unfaithful to you, I promise
but you should see his eyes
they encompass the entire ocean
with all of its beautiful tidal shifts
he is my tsunami bound by the body of a fighter
who somehow knows how to be gentle
he traces patterns from the pulse throbbing indentation on my neck
to my caged rib chest
down to the backs of my knees
and back up to the butterfly between my thighs
and makes my hearbeat go wild

he is hypnosis fixated on no particular goal
he is serenity threaded with breaths of chaos
he is an overdose of jazz music
you know,
something good to dance to
full of rich saxophones and bass drums that make you sway long after you've lost the energy to move

dear poetry,
he moves me.
I'm not saying that you don't
I'm saying that he has shown me how much can be said
when words are left for a later time

I am still faithful to you
but for now,
I have few things to say
that cannot be written into the silent parts of his skin

your faithful lover,
V rabbit

P.S.
you really should see his eyes
then you would understand how I am so captivated.

Dear Poetry

Dear Poetry,

I am sorry that I have neglected you recently.
I have not forgotten you
I can only hope
that you have not forgotten me

you have been weaving through my mind
like circular kalaidoscopes
ever changing windmills
that peacefully circle my sleepy mind
why must you visit me when there is no pen and paper to be found?

I have missed you.
I wonder if you are warming the bed of another
if you have disappeared from my dreams
because you no longer found me worthy
so this
is an apology
a plea for your return

I need you. please.
do not leave me
wordless and without both rhyme and reason
do not betray me with mental treason
and kiss me with lips dripping with abandonment issues

If you will not speak, then I will say it first
I love you. I have always loved you
you saved the sanity of my young mind
when I turned from grief and found only more labyrinths of darkness
constantly pressed against wrong turns that I could not correct
you were the guiding light that showed me
how to be whole again

so it is ironic that i call my poems pieces
maybe because they are pieces of me
and because they bring me piece

I cannot remember the last time I wrote from the heart
and for that, I am sorry
I have neglected you
but I have not abandoned you
I can only hope that you
have not done the same

Dear poetry,

I have always been yours. Do not think I have strayed.
You have been with me every moment
tucked into scrap paper and draft messages on my phone
or the inner crevices of my arms when paper was hard to come by
I will never abandon you.

your faithful lover,
V Rabbit

For the Dreamers

This is for the dreamers.
If you are content with mediocrity
this is not for you.
If you have never felt your pulse racing like there are tsunamis consuming your veins
this is not for you
If you have never chased the impossible just to see how long it takes you to lose your breath
this is not for you
IF you have never learned how to not only march, but to dance to the beat of your own
subwoofer dubstep drop heartbeat
with bass wobbles that shake like you've swallowed an earthquake without chewing it first
this is not for you

This is for the dreamers
with enough passionate fires burning in our chests
that we don't need heaters during the longest unlit nights
when the stars take over the sky and smolder themselves into the back of our retinas
and we don't know which one to wish on
so we smile into the pinpricked blackness
because simple stars aren't big enough to hold our dreams anyways

We don't engage in superstition
but it would be nice if we did
so when the world steals our dreams away and whispers them into the wind
we could knock on wood and cross our fingers that they'll return
but we don't.
We turn accommodating ears to a beautiful woman named Faith- she always knows exactly how to tell us
that our dreams will return if we are patient

and after all- patience is a virtue,
but we don't like to wait

We don't wait for opportunity to come knocking
We find its home address and sit outside the front door until it comes home
to ask with curious eyes "what surprises have you found for me today?"

This is for the dreamers.
We have pockets full of hand me down hope
and handfuls of helium
because most days, our dreams are drifiting in the stratosphere
we've got to learn how to fly one way or another
go ahead and call me the early bird
but i've got worms to catch
i'm using them as bait for something even bigger
because for us dreamers

good enough is never good enough.
we are the grown up versions of toddlers who choose ultraviolet as their favorite color
because the visible spectrum just isn't satisfactory

This is for the dreamers.
We are masterpieces in the making
the paint may never dry while our rhythms remain restless
the change we cause is continuous
and redefined on a moment to moment basis
I've been caught red handed recreating the blueprints of my fingertips
so they spelled out "I'm a dreamer"
but I know i can't be the only one

we are dreamers.
we are trying to leave behind more than a trail of carbon footprints
for the words we impart upon this earth to be more than etchings on tombstones
for the motions we create to be more than temporary shadows
We are trying to be more than silhouettes in the back of history books

We are pushing
We are pushing for the voiceless, the helpless, and the brokenly beautiful
We are pushing for a flexible future that we shall bend with our willpower
We are pushing for a lasting legacy that isn't bittersweet when we try to taste test the memories of our glory days
We are pushing for a trustworthy tomorrow that keeps the pinky promises it makes to the next wide eyed generation

Dreamers-
Keep pushing.