when i wake up i just lay there and wait
for you, for you to roll toward me and
stretch out your arm so i can roll into you

and while i’m waiting, yes, sometimes
i watch you sleep, don’t be surprised,
there are songs about doing this
we played them to each other
once upon another time

and i think it’s just wondrous
the way your eyelashes shine
in the morning light, and your face
looks so peaceful and sweet

i think you’d be surprised
to know how much i really love you,
i think you’d be kinder, too

The Morning War. Heat. Cigarettes. 
You know it’s going to be a bad day
when the Times just gives up and says 
it’s hell, but we’ll keep on reporting
until we’re hanged in the streets like
traitors to our country 

Oh, how I would love to be able
to afford being a traitor to my country.
To ditch work, hold signs, protest,
knock on doors, drive people to polls.

But I am the people we’re trying to help
and it does no one any good to listen
to me whine that we’re a broken society
that might never be … Read the rest

Quote of the Day:

“I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.” – W. Somerset Maugham

I’ve decided that if I am going to be doing this daily blogging on TK I may as well copy it over to my website, too and start a collection of thoughts that no one really cares about but me. I’m paying for the server space and domains, I might as well start using them to their full ability. 

I feel like the more notes I read here, the more I see how alike we all are, … Read the rest

it’s okay to get out of bed early, you don’t have to worry anymore
about missing out on cuddles and special time together, he’s here,
and from what you can see (the photos, the driver’s license, the
clothes in the closet) you should probably believe he will stay.
don’t worry so much about being left alone, not any time soon, and
not any more than any other woman would worry about 
the man she loves walking out the door in the morning and 
not coming back through at night. don’t be scared,
just believe he is here to love you.… Read the rest

You sing a new song every morning.
In your thin teeshirts and loose shorts,
you’re a sleepy singer, but your eyes are bright.
Remember all those Saturdays and Sundays we
woke up and rolled into each other’s arms?
That was always my favorite place to be.
Wrapped up in you and blankets and love,
sun shining through the window, welcoming us to the day.
You sing a new song every morning.

From Audrey Gidman’s monthly poetry prompts: Write a soloem. The poet avery r. young created a form called the soloem (so-lo-em), a Chicago soul poem. It’s a 9-line … Read the rest