poetry

Didn’t John Lennon Say Give Peace A Chance?

Inspired by John Lennon’s “Give Peace a Chance.”

Everyone seems to be talking about someone.

Donald Trump insulting the someone new everyday,

Hillary Clinton and her emails,

Kim Kardashian, as she tries to maintain her fame,

or Caitlyn Jenner.

I wonder why we can’t give peace a chance.

 

People seem to seem to be talking,

but no one seems to be listening.

And all we should be saying is:

“Give peace a chance.”

 

Everyone seems to be talking about an -ism,

Feminism, racism, fascism, terrorism, communism.

You know, those old issues

But all I’m saying is

“Give peace a chance.”

Everyone seems to be talking about trying to prevent an event,

Sandy Hook, Hurricane Sandy, Boston Bombings,

9/11, Paris Shootings, Columbine.

But, with all of those tragedies in mind,

can’t we just give peace a chance?

Maybe John Lennon was onto something.

Maybe he knew that peace was the answer to the bombings,

the arguments, the messy politics, and the wars.

Maybe he knew that maybe if instead of talking we should listen.

Maybe all we need to do is to give peace a chance.

poetry

Elton John’s Love Songs

Can you feel the love tonight?

I know I was able to,

as we drove to the beach on the cold highway in late August.

Your song was on the radio

It was a slow sad song,

about a lonely soul who had no valentines.

I guess that’s why sad songs say so much.

 

There’s something about the way you look tonight,

that makes me realize you’re the one.

I don’t believe the end will come for us,

despite the sacrifice of long distance.

 

Don’t go breaking my heart,” I tell you,

as you say “I couldn’t if I tried.”

Your healing hands embrace me,

and I whisper softly,

Hold me closer, tiny dancer.”

 

The Indian sunset signaled it was time to go,

a goodbye soon to follow.

But we’ve said goodbye before,

and I’m still standing.

 

Long distance relationships are the reason why

I guess that’s why they call it the blues.

poetry

In the 1989 Mindset: Inspired By Taylor Swift

I leave you behind for a sign that says

“Welcome to New York.”

You didn’t want to come with me to my new world,

so I had to leave you in Connecticut.

I clutch my Starbucks in one hand, and my suitcase in the other,

my name is written in Sharpie marker in the blank space

on the Starbucks cup.

I walk down storefronts, with mannequins that had more

style, money and poise than I ever will.

I used to think that “we’d never go out of style.”

 

The city seems to engulf me,

but my mind seems to span farther than the skyscrapers.

I will never be out of the woods or in the clear from you.

the memory of you screaming at me

all you had to do was stay,

haunts me.

I just can’t shake it off your facial expression

as I walked out that door.

 

I look down at my phone,

no missed text messages,

no missed calls.

I would never text you,

but I wish you would text me.

 

There’s nothing but bad blood between us now,

where there used to be “mad love.”

not even in my wildest dreams.

 

I see a guy catcalling a girl from a cab,

and I can’t help but think is,

that’s not how you get the girl,

but you didn’t know how to keep one.

 

But soon, my mind comes back on you,

this love is something that will never leave me.

I know places where the memories won’t hurt me,

that’s in the city in my new life.

Maybe the Big Apple is where I’ll be finally clean,

away from your ghost,

and your imprint on my heart.

 

Note: The poem was inspired by the album 1989 by Taylor Swift.

poetry

I Deserve It

I spent so much time —

crying and burying myself

in sadness.

I struggled with the weight on my shoulders —

its pain overpowering me.

But, no more.

 

I let it go.

I release it into the air —

almost as if it is a hundred ballots that I release towards heaven,

or dandelions whose petals are thrown into the wind.

I have wings,

I am flying now,

floating on the estasy of leaving this behind.

 

Why?

 

I deserve to be happy.

I went through enough,

so that’s the least that could happen.

I deserve a champion —

a prize fighter like Rocky.

 

I move forward,

hopeful that he shows up.

 

But, yet.

 

I don’t regret any of it.

It made me stronger,

it made me a fighter.

After all, I am Italian,

you know like Tony Soprano or John Gotti.

Getting through everything made me realize

I am worth it,

which is why I am cocky,

which is why I am full of myself.

It’s why I fly away from the clouds,

ready to feel the rays of the sun.