January 2010
6:59 AM by Shane Koyczan
I’ve been told that people in the army do more by 7:00 am than I do in an entire day
but if I wake at 6:59 am and turn to you to trace the outline of your lips with mine I will have done enough and killed no one in the process.
Drat. Formspring muddied up the poem’s formatting. Oh well. ABSORB IT ANYWAY. And thanks again for submitting.
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formspring.me
And some Walt Whitman, while I’m at it:
Passing stranger! you do not know
How longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking,
Or she I was seeking
(It comes to me as a dream)
I have somewhere surely
Lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other,
Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me,
Were a boy with me or a girl with...
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formspring.me
A poem for you, dear:
I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain:
I have seen the lady April bringing in the daffodils,
Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.
I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old chant of the sea,
And seen strange lands from under the arched white sails of ships;
But...
A run-on sentence of cuteness from "Crave"
And I want to play hide-and-seek and give you my clothes and tell you I like your shoes and sit on the steps while you take a bath and massage your neck and kiss your feet and hold your hand and go for a meal and not mind when you eat my food and meet you at Rudy’s and talk about the day and type your letters and carry your boxes and laugh at your paranoia and give you tapes you don’t...
I love Jack Gilbert
AFTER LOVE Jack Gilbert
He is watching the music with his eyes closed. Hearing the piano like a man moving through the woods thinking by feeling. The orchestra up in the trees, the heart below, step by step. The music hurrying sometimes, but always returning to quiet, like the man remembering and hoping. It is a thing in us, mostly unnoticed. There is somehow a pleasure in the loss. In the...
December 2009
I know I sound like a freak, but...
who wrote me that last formspring post? If you’d like to stay anonymous, I understand, but I just thought that was a really sweet comment and I’d like to know who you are so I can shower you with compliments as well.
For example:
“You have a fantastic sense of humor”
“You are a snappy dresser.”
OR
“Wow. You have such great taste in poetry. And...
Four simple Brautigan poems you will LOVE as much...
Boo Forever by Richard Brautigan
Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I’m haunted by all the space that I will live without you.
Richard Brautigan - Lovers I changed her bedroom: raised the ceiling four feet, removed all of her things (and the clutter of her life) painted the walls white, placed a fantastic calm in the room, a silence that almost had a scent, put her in...
If you read the whole poem, you will be eternally...
“Apology” by Shane Koyczan (Read along with the youtube link provided at the end if you want an experience that will give you CHILLS.)
I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I keep saying that I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, strange in a “George W. Bush hasn’t been assassinated yet” kind of way, but I say I’m sorry for stupid shit and trivial things....
A Poem to Make You Ache
“The Abandoned Factory of Sense” by Jeffrey McDaniel When I was a kid, my mother had the prettiest face: a smile that could pry open the hearts of construction workers, eyes bright as a Kennedy’s future, lips red as a robin feather floating in a bathtub filled with milk, and everybody loved her. But when we came home, she’d take off her face and hang it on a special pole...
