On Swimming

First of all, relax
the water can smell fear,
smile at your reflection.

if you breathe out,
your lungs will breath in for you; i promise
your body wants to live.

kick when you inhale,
kick when you exhale
and keep kicking inbetween.

where your head tilts
there your body will follow,
for balance, keep a level head.

when the deep confronts you
do not be afraid, the technique is the same:
relax, breathe, kick.

Joshua 5v13

One of my favourite bits of Scripture
is when Joshua, unbeknown to him
sees the Angel of the Lord,
draws his sword and demands
whose side are you on?
And the Angel, Commander of the Heavenly armies says
I’M ON MY SIDE.

I think this is how we cry to God
on the hospital floor,
with milky teeth and angry hair
WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?
and only the cancer replies.

This is how we draw swords, ready to war
over bombed schools and hollow homes
we scream, WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?
amidst the rubble and rebar.

This is how on days when the water covers my head,
I have come to my end and I am sinking
my lungs barely let out a sigh and
I whisper whose side are you on?

WHOSE SIDE AM I ON?
I’M ON THE SIDE WHERE
YOU TAKE THE SANDALS
OFF YOUR FEET.
I AM THE I AM.
IN THE CHEMO,
N THE CHAOS,
IN THE CAVERNS,
I AM.

Love letter drafts

An “I can’t make you love me” poem
to the girl with my soul trapped in her teeth,
the one with glitter and blue highlighter on her galaxy skin
a forfeit poem, a white flag above my castle poem.

A “Love letter to my bros” poem
challenging masculinity, declaring love for my bros,
my future groomsmen, the ones i’ve missed flights with,
the ones i’ve cried to, the ones i’ve been to Budapest with,
yes, a love letter to my main men.

A “Love letter to me” poem, most likely a performance piece
Mohammed-Ali-esque poem, filled with quips,
taking flints to my insecurities, ending with
an encouragement to the listener to write
a “love letter to me” poem.