The things I learned from Gabrielle Bernstein

1. Want more for others

2. Celebrate relationships around you

3. Don’t see someone else’s love as what you don’t have, but as a reminder of what you are creating

4. Let their success mirror back to you what you’re ready to receive

5. Release the block of comparison

6. There is enough love in the universe to support us all

7. Nothing can be conceived by an energy of neediness

8. Let yourself be in the positive expectation of what is coming

9. Align with the joy of who you are

10. Do what feels good

11. Shift from fear back to love

12. Lean towards joy

Israel is Burning

Glowy skin
In the afternoon
after leaving
at 6am from
your apartment
you in bed
woke up
me with my
shirt on
pants
off
you ask me
questions
I don’t want
to answer

you
tried candy corn
for the first
time, watching
Puss in Boots
my little Perrito
You wanted
to go down

You said
sometimes I was
with you
sometimes
somewhere else
completely

can a hug
cure the
sadness
in the world
uselessness
is a feeling
right next to
fear
and we are
so far away

you said
I will regret
the time
we lost

I said
maybe the
timing is
just right

You make funny
videos and
you like to
laugh at
yourself
talk in accents
play this role
rolled up
in my arms

I think I could love you
I think that
All of the moments in my life have led
To this union
Brought by patience
in combination
with hope
and forgiveness
understanding
that I cannot
control my
past, the
universe
has caught
up with my
dreams

Today
I was shown
a white
swan
a sign
that I’m
on the right
track
was requested
delivered

It's a Long Way from Jersey City

Forty minutes
and you are
Chez Oskar
and the cigarette smoke
sneaks up
the back
through my hair
so we move
to a table
where the mosquitos
play
and you say,

I don’t like
watermelon,
just anchovies in
my salad
and smart girls

you say that
I talk too much
about babies
too much
I know but
it’s

the neck kisses
on street corners
making me warm
and wet in
the rain

but cringing
the moments
before “Goodnight”
unable to control
my reactive
animations
too old to be walking
away with a
courtesy, wondering
if this is what
Grace would do

and when i get home
my elbows
are raw from
leaning too much
on the bar,
drinking too much
tequila, salt
on the rim
razing my tongue

and I think,
maybe you’re him

or maybe
he doesn’t exist

Go Around

Here we go again
Same name, same place
You in your green shirt
From the picture
Gave you a hug
on the corner
there’s an order
to these things

Put a bracelet
on your wrist and
we walked to the bridge
looking at
keychains and
license plates
First dates in
the summer are
always sweaty

Touching your back
with my fingers
knees touching too
as we sat
sipping
Aperol spritz
I said, surprise me
I said, things are better
the second time
around

I felt the chill
from the fan
above my head
as you called me
princess, all girls are

Tattoos with ex friends
extra faded from
three laser treatments
and no one likes to be
a King all the time

It was dark
where we sat
eating salmon and
You were already
drunk after dinner
and the champagne
was not even
my favorite part

We went back
to my place
for the private concert
you rapped Daftpunk
and I laughed
always at the same parts
and the kissing
was good for me

Was it good for you?

I didn’t like when
later
you told me
you were really drunk
when we had sex
and I don’t even
know if you came
inside me

Did you come?

And will you come
back once
the car is gone?

I value honesty
and insecurity
but thinking about orgasms
makes me nervous
and nicknames
and laughing
and watching movies
in French
I want to do it
again without
the yeast infection

Future

If you haven’t made it yet
how do you know
when to stop and
start again
with something new

it’s probably just projection

Documentaries to Help You Sleep

Talking about linguistics
on the couch, and
I feel so full
that I could

walk to Fort Greene
park again,
this time not as friends
and when we sit
on the bench
I will be asking
for sex.

I watch your
mouth as you
speak about
skyscrapers
and new construction

I say to myself, I want my
kids to have these eyes,
your hair.

But I am
not suited
to your nomadic
lifestyle.

I want to be like
the big tree in the park
with it’s willowy
branches that shade
and cool. Roots running
deep and wide.

You told your mom
how I cried on our first,
and second,
date.

Funny that
now I’d like
so badly
to see you in
my kitchen,
with your shirt off
cooking chickpea
pasta, sweet onions
and your jeans are
slipping down without
your belt.

Maybe I need to
learn this look,
a look you say
she gives, when she’s
”looking to be fucked.”

Birthday Cakes

I wish we could
strip down to our
underwear
and jump into the waves,
even when it’s winter and
the lake is frozen
over.

I don’t want
to forget the
kisses on street corners,
lingering whispers,
the way you feel
inside me.
I am blinded by
my own imagination,
surrounded by reality

and insecurity.

I want to rip you apart.
I want to make you happy and whole.

Is it true
that wishes only exist
on birthdays?

Who Are You

You don’t care about
traditional expectations
or microwaves
just the sensation
of integrity
and thin sheets
my legs between
your legs

Cat Naps

Laying heavy on
my tailbone, bruised
and your eyelids
so low that I
can’t tell if
you are asleep.

My hand is
pressed against
my cheek
weighed down
by your body
hoping not to
fall from the couch

No one likes
the pressure
of being put
on a pedestal.

Can you fall
out of love, as
quickly
as you can
fall?

High Ceilings

And you could use some paintings on the walls
you take big gulps from your glass
and are always surprised by your hunger
you don’t like wine
but pour me mine

the seam has broken
on your left sleeve
I say, my grandma could fix it
you say, I need new clothes
which is
just what I’m thinking

Sometimes I watch you speak
without really listening
examining your facial movements
the accent fluid

you talk about your ex like
she’s crazy
but I’m internalizing
empathizing
because I know what it’s like
to be at your worst
to be mean to
the people you love
the most

you say, everything will be fine
but I have no one
who is really mine
and I know I’d feel better
if you had pillows for my head
a heavy blanket on
your bed

because last night
I shivered under the sheet
for hours
trying not to wake you
to move
not to overanalyze
the moments before
when I asked you to stop

I wore cashmere socks
to sleep and still
I felt very far
from home

Dark and Moody

It’s fun to sip cocktails
in the dark
at the back of a bar
where no one can see us
when our hands are
so cold
that we hold them
over a votive
sinking closer
into the leather booth
closer together

It’s fun to rest my head on your shoulder
because the cocktail is
sweet on my lips
and you have a nice smell that
I can’t quite decipher
and I let my dress
slide up
so you can rest
your hand
on my thigh
with your really long fingers

you say my small hands
will make everything look big

you say, I just love to look at you

It’s fun to kiss up against a wall
and wear lingerie
when it’s windy
and anything can happen.

Pocanos

that summer in the Poconos
in the rented cabin
with the bathtub that was red and round
perfect for a fort
and my mama looked so
pretty with those bangs
and overalls were still
chic, but practical
when you have three kids
my sister always pouting on the couch
we rode together
in that trailer on the back of the bike, all zipped up
and that bean-filled baby lizard with the black bead eyes
and glittery scales
always in my hand
always looking about

if whispers had hands..

you are only
a poem
on this
page.

To My Coworker

You are a
toenail
black
and blue
you
can’t find
your shoes
you
can only move
so far
in bare feet.

No one likes
bitter
coffee, spoiled
milk and
sore
losers.
You can only
eat so
much
when your
mouth
is full
of sand.

You blow
me
away
by your
life like
an ant
I step
on
the house
where
you
lay.

Slip 'N Slide

I told you not to come inside me
Sticky warmth
Between my lips
Your Tongue shoved
Down my throat
Slippery
slip and slide
We play well
The childhood game
Sneaky serpent
I was half asleep
Finger on
a pearl
I was half awake
I hate my
Squeaky bed
Squeeze my
Hips
It's pounding
On the Wall
I try to hold it still
For the sake of the
Neighbors
(For the sake of my dignity
For the sake of the ride)
Probably sleeping
It is 4am 

And I told you not to
Come inside me
But you couldn't hold
Your feelings in

Mirror Image

You wear it really well—
my favorite face.
It’s humid and
you’re sprouting curls
of mac n cheese.
You hate the way
they curl so tight.

And,
you have
a cheesy
pizza smile,
sauce on your tongue
and suited legs.
We like
the way you
look in blue —
the color of
my lips
without
your own.

But the air
smells like winter,
and hot chocolate
in the rain,
you will
hold your hands
over my head
to cloud
me from
the things that
make me sad—
like oatmeal, never
going to
the gym,
and my parents
growing old. 

Salty eyes.
You don’t like
it when
I️ wear
my tears
upon
my nose.
You don’t
know
I like
to lick
them from
my cheeks.

Warm nights
with warm thighs.
A puppy on my lap.
You see
too much
your own
reflection
in the mirror.
And also mine.

4th of July

And on Saturday
There are fireworks
In the field
By the firehouse
By the old
Building
Where the post
Office used to
Be. Fireflies, they
Glow in the heat.
New Chevrolets
Pull up to the grass
And us on
A blue sheet

Mosquitos bite
But we keep
Them alive
We are the same
Singing songs
With long pieces
Of grass
We are not
Animals
At the fireworks
We will
Drink Pepsi
Through
A straw

Stuck

You feel invincible
With gum stuck
To the bottom
Of your shoe
You feel like you could stick to a cloud
Hanging down
You are the only
Person
Who can see the
World
from
Upside down
You see
The right side
Up
grounded
By gravity
The atmospheric
Pressure
Makes you
Somewhat insecure
It is hard
To be alone
With your
Thoughts
When your
Thoughts
Are the only
Ones
Of their kind

Chocolat Chaud

Chocolat chaud 
Sounds like
Hat chocolate when
You say it in English
Taste like childhood
That and 
Campbell’s soup 
With grill cheese
My mom makes it 
Just right 
Snow angels
In the salty
sweet
Paris rain
We soak our feet
In puddles 
Slippery
And sinking mud
The wind
Is not our 
Friend 
We are adolescents
Still jeune
Amoureux
Boxed lunches
In the cafeteria 
You 
Make me blush 
Saying
My name 
And I have no
Longer any
Tongue but I will
Sip you in 
From the leather booth
In Café Lazare 
Finding shelter
In the
Bathroom where
The toilet seat is cold 
Sometimes
You taste a little
Better when
Your lips are cool
Creamy
Chocolate
And I am always 
In my bed
Always in 
My head.

The Symbolic Life

They kept showing up, for days,
dead on the windowsill,
and for days I did nothing about the ladybugs
except to ask if their entering the house
unnoticed and dying before I saw them
was symbolic.
Thinking so was easy.
They symbolized birth and death,
change and rebirth.
It was also possible the tiny beetles
embodied an inborn need
to show themselves,
to turn up in every and any place,
even as the dried-out remains of the once lively.
Or they stood for the burden of being one thing
relieved by becoming another,
which all the world’s children suffer.

This went on and on, and could’ve gone on
forever, so finally I opened the window
and blew them into the wide open
because everything and everyone should get a chance
to be mourned, and they got theirs,
but first they had to die, which is life,
not symbolism.

-Hayan Charara