Ghazal

When I'm with you, I am who I am.
You see through the nonsense and grasp who I am.


The essence of Me is thick. It's hanging in the air:
I'm breathing in and breathing out suspicions of who and what I am.


Suggestions of what to be and where to go accumulate above me.
The rain of possibilities falls on all that I already am.

My whole life is reflected in your eyes. You peel away the
falseness with your bare hands. You effortlessly uncover who I truly am.

Classifications - of future, past, and present - are obsolete with you here.
Together we explore, and I am not afraid of what I am.

You say my name: 'Courtney' - it is so beautiful in your voice!
I wanted to be what you made me, but you have chosen to love me as I am.


















I'm taking a poetry class this semester and we are writing ghazals. I really love them! Here are the rules:
>The verses are written in couplets.
>The refrain, a repeated word, ends every couplet and ends the first and second lines in the first couplet [in this poem, the refrain is the word am]
>The couplets must make sense alone and end with a period. They don't have to be related.
>There must be at least 5 couplets.
>The lines are long - not one or two words like some of my work
>The last couplet must include the poet's own name.

Shelf Life

Day after day you.
Invade my space you.
Stick your hands in and.
Press your face close and.
Fog up the glass.

Am I really so.
Entertaining I.
Just lay here and.
Take care of my.
Life-needs but you.
Seem to find that.
Far too interesting for.
Me to be.
At ease.

I don't understand you.
You flat-faced captor you.
Hand that feeds me and.
Thinks yourself great while.
Exposing my life for.
Your own amusement.

Just because I.
Have no words or.
Legs or vote and.
Can't get out does.
Not mean I.
Enjoy it here.

How about we.
Switch roles just for.
One day so you.
Can see the need I have.
To bury myself in.
Wood chips to.
Ensure that I.
Can't be seen.




So in my poetry class we had to write a 'Research Poem'. I was like 'What the crap is a research poem???' Somehow, writing from a different perspective fit in. Anyway, it's nearly 11pm, and I realized at about... idk... 10pm that my research poem is due at midnight. So I feverishly grabbed a notebook, and this poem about a pessamistic* snake just kinda fell out. Weird. But I really liked it and now I just don't wanna go to bed so I'm rambling.... sighhhh.... Somehow I became 8 years old again. Idk how I managed it, but I did.