The Wiser Heart

Before I got smart,
–not of my own doing,
I assure you–
I thought that the
world’s most romantic
words were “I love you.”

And knowing what I do
I know that it’s not
The phrase “I do” either.

Certainly it doesn’t include
“will” or “did.”
Care is a gift at a moment’s notice,
in a moment that is the present one.

No, now I know romance is
“don’t worry,
I am here.”

Or maybe only
“I
am
here.”

Things Have Changed

Is there any phrase I could say that would
make your boots quiver quite in the same way?
It’s okay if it causes rage:
A closer end comes of a turned-over page,
And whether it’s a good or bad part for a heart,
Hearts are hammy actors who love to die on stage.

“The Boys Who Wouldn’t Grow Up” Review + Giveaway

Lauren:

For those of you who read my poetry, maybe you’re interested in my novel and you don’t even know it yet! Review and a giveaway contest for two copies is here!

Originally posted on The Things I Am Crazy For:

Happy Thursday everyone!

Back in the winter, I read this post about ways you know you went to St Andrews. It spread like wildfire on FB, being shared and liked by everyone in the St Andrews sphere! There is a book mentioned in this post and I was intrigued. A few weeks later, in one of my fit of St Andrews withdrawal, I bought a PDF version online.

Quick summary: The book is set in a fictitious sea-side Scottish town – clearly inspired by St Andrews, the university and its traditions. It centres mainly around two female undergrads, their relationships and their circle of friends. I can’t say much more without ruining the plot, honestly!

theboyswhobook quote

When I started reading it, it felt weird. It was as though I was peaking in a fellow St Andrean’s diary. While I didn’t do my undergrad there and it focuses on undergrad life…

View original 750 more words

Be Careful of Wishing for Romance Unless You’re Willing to Live with the Consequences

There comes a moment when you wonder if that once-every-few-years

kind of kiss is going to ever really leave your lips. Because when it hits once, it’s

already on its way to hitting another day. No matter how much it feels like time

to expire that line, and let it straighten out instead of wrapping it about in a series of curves that

look too much like love for comfort you’ll never go through with it; you love the thrill to much.

Not that it comforts you any less while you look for some honest-to-goodness endlessness.

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Pinterest

For some, hopes hang strong on
mason jars and wedding gowns,
on gleaming marble counter tops.

But all I need’s book, bed, and dog,
and doors that do not need their lock.

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Guinevere

What kind of a mixed-up expression
is “A Confession of Love” anyway?
Love confessed isn’t love, okay:
Love lives guiltless, lacking guile–
yet you let “love” walk down the aisle.

So do you love, or do you confess me?
I can’t forgive what can’t be blessed.

Democrazy

Land of selective memory,
(remember slavery?!)
and nation of misrepresentation,
of trial and error and trial errors,
freest place you’ll ever find
that has an electric chair.

America is your friend who
makes fun of everyone else
and can’t take a joke about himself,
who pouts when he loses
and flips the Monopoly board
when you’re close to winning.

I lived abroad a while,
and people liked to say
you’re American, Lauren,
How Do You Feel About That?
As if I must have a way of
thinking about something I
had to be told I was
(personally, I was born a person.)

It’s a big country, I said,
and I’d like to see you try to get
everyone in your little one
to agree on anything –
let alone democracy.
What democracy is
is what makes it hard to do
when it’s humans who
are running it.

For all that, though, it’s a
Great Wide Land with a
Great Wide Soul.
Steinbeck grew up from it,
And so did Twain and so too Millay
(God, I can push the grass apart
And lay my finger on Thy heart all day)
But Whitman really captured
the Yankeest of attitudes:

I AM LARGE,
I CONTAIN MULTITUDES.

I love you, Americaland,
limitless in possibility
limitless in contradiction.
Land that sometimes
keeps its promises.

Land where to publish
a poem like this
means I cannot run for office.

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