Sarah Kay: It started with a sweater.


Sarah: No, it started with a backward first impression.
Phil: Okay, well, I’ll tell you where it didn’t start. It didn’t start at fifth grade summer camp.
Sarah: That’s true, it did not start at junior lifeguards. Even though we were both there.
Phil: Matching red bathing suits, white t-shirts, visors, and our counsellor -
Both: Mr. Johnson.
Sarah: Who probably figured that the shy girl in his morning class -
Phil: and the skinny kid in his afternoon class -
Both: were… cousins?!
Sarah: Probably thought we carpooled over together -
Phil: in between family photoshoots and fourth of July barbecues.
Sarah: But instead, we merely co-existed -
Phil: almost met but always missed it -
Sarah: spinning around like two sides of a coin.
Phil: Look!
Both: We’ve done the research!
Sarah: And we swear, we’re not related.
Phil: And we’ve never dated.
Both: And we’re never… EVER… going to.
Phil: Because what are the chances of finding someone with your last name -
Sarah: Japanese and Jewish with siblings called the same?
Phil: What are the odds of finding someone -
Sarah: who can finish your sentences -
Phil: who will let you cut in line -
Sarah: who knows not to just lend a hand, or an ear when you need them to give you their spine -
Phil: who is woman enough to be best man at your wedding -
Sarah: who will keep every secret, save every letter, tell you how you really look -
Phil: who will remember every single one of your birthdays -
Sarah: without checking Facebook?
Phil: What are the odds of finding someone who knows your poetry by heart -
Sarah: who won’t freak out if you’re hanging out and accidentally fart?
Phil: Yeah. If you have a date and you need to look fresh, I will let you borrow… my hair products.
Sarah: And if you don’t have a date and you need to look fresh, I will let you borrow… my cousin.
Phil: I will always see you for the alley-oop.
Sarah: I will always save you a seat.
Phil: I will always pick you to be my partner even though you are terrible at handball.
Sarah: When the fire takes all you have, my home will be your home.
Phil: When you are old and can no longer remember my face, I will meet you for the first time again and again.
Sarah: When they make fun of your accent, I will take you swimming because we all sound the same underwater.
Phil: When Ellis Island tries to erase your past, I will call you by your real name.
Sarah: When they call your number for the draft, I will enlist to fight beside you.
Phil: And I will march with you from Selma to Montgomery and back as many times as it takes.
Sarah: We will stand together against the hoses and the dogs -
Both: because it didn’t start with us.
Phil: It started with Lennon and McCartney.
Sarah: It started with Thelma and Louise.
Phil: It started with Winnie-the-Pooh and Christopher Robin.
Sarah: Bert and Ernie!
Phil: Abbott and Costello!
Sarah: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!
Phil: Mario and Luigi!
Sarah: Watson and Sherlock!
Phil: Pikachu and Charizard! And they could tell you what a miracle this is.
Sarah: They could tell you how rare this is.
Phil: But they could tell you how rare friendship always is.
Sarah: The chances are slim.
Phil: The cards are always stacked against you, the odds are always low.
Both: But I have seen the best of you, and the worst of you, and I choose both.
Phil: I want to share every single one of your sunshines and save some for later.
Sarah: I will tuck them into my pockets so I can give them back to you when the rains fall hard.
Both: Friend -
Phil: I want to be the mirror that reminds you to love yourself.
Sarah: I want to be air in your lungs that reminds you to breathe easy.
Phil: When the walls come down -
Sarah: when the thunder rumbles -
Both: when nobody else is home, hold my hand -
Phil: and I promise -
Both: I won’t let go.

Labels: Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, Spoken Word

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fj1YdcfBgaU



Love Poem by Mary Fons.

this poem is for the pillow clutchers/for those looking into the imaginary eyes of the person who fills their mind with sugarplum smiles/for those who have a cannon of dreams ready and waiting to blossom/for the men and the women who want to be understood in that way that only someone who kisses you can understand you/this poem is for you.

this poem is not for the desperate/the pathetic/the lame/the loser/not for the one who hasn’t gotten laid in awhile/not for the one who says they’re “choosing not to date” for awhile/there is no such thing/this poem is for the people who cannot bring themselves to admit that they would give their right leg for any length of time with the person on their mind.

forgive me/I am not a brave woman/I do not know what lurks in the hearts of humans and I don’t really want to know/if what’s there mirrors memories I show in my face on bad days it holds kisses that are long gone/people who have disappeared/and passions that have faded into the ether of the past/nothing lasts/that is the one lesson this coward can say she is able to teach.

this poem is for all those who wish to say “I’m sorry”/I’m sorry I couldn’t love you/you deserve love/I’m sorry I couldn’t give something to you/you deserve to be given to/I’m sorry that for every person that loves somebody/another person just doesn’t want to/and sometimes we’re the lucky ones/right/we get to feel sweet truth in the night/the bodies we reach out to are miraculously there/but I know the despair that comes when they are not/I know the long nights and the doubt and the fear and that crawling back to a womb that just isn’t there/I know intensity’s address and the letdown that rents there/I’m sorry for it/it takes years off your life and it cannot be avoided.

and some times these little words are crutches for the crush that we feel/so this poem is a pathetic vehicle for me to tell you/each one of you/that I love you/in so many ways/in the same ways that stay up nights and days/dreaming up the perfect way to be there for someone/meals you would cook for them/poems you would write for them and the things you plan to say when they say no/well I love you/and you will never know how in the slight of a magician’s hand we could’ve been lovers and grandly in love/could’ve changed the whole game/written words on the horizon/changed the compromise/but you will know something else instead/bitter as bitter ever gets/more bitter than a rotten peach pit/more bitter than a child’s most terrifying nightmare at night/you will know that I don’t reflect what I see in your eyes/will will share some banal recognition/some cordial understanding but have I mentioned that I love you for not lying/so many people lying all the time/I hate them/so I love you/and you will still go home alone/and that is very hard to do.

for all the humans with love for those who aren’t their lovers/I love you.

and so the poem ends because we know that it will/but before it slips away like everything else/I will attempt the only words I can think of that are a fraction as good as a kiss: when you reach out at night and find not someone/but the cold grey light of day that wakes you up like a slap/like a curse/like an insult/I love you/when you stay at home thinking of those who are long gone or those who are getting kisses from someone that is not you/I love you/for those who want what they probably need and whose bodies are starving not for food/for me and for you and for all the people who never knew or understood what you would do for them/I love you/I love you/I love you.

Labels: Mary Fons, Spoken Word

B by Sarah Kay

http://youtu.be/e3Ks1ceHkus

Labels: Sarah Kay, Spoken Word

If I were a love poet by Rudy Francisco

Labels: Rudy Francisco, Spoken Word