This the Common Air That Bathes the Globe

That’s what she said.

That’s what he said.

That’s what she, he, you, me, we said.

20171028_070905

Said it to each other

Said it across long distance phone calls

and short distance pillow talks.

Said it to the mirror,

probably not often enough.

Said it to dogs in high-pitched voices,

and, in face licks and tail wags,

definitely had it returned

in ways other than words.

Said it on accident.

Said it too soon.

Said it too late.

Said it amidst arguments

that were never worth having.

Said it during love making

which was definitely worth having.

Said it to unborn children

Said it quietly over the graves of those now gone.

Said it to our parents

Said it to our parents exponentially more frequently

when we were low on cash.

Said it to the sky.

Said it to the stars.

Said it late at night

to new friends in old bars.

Said it in too many languages to count.

Said it soft,

then said it loud,

then said it louder,

and when it still wasn’t said loud enough

we created a Facebook event page

and invited everyone

so that we could all set our clocks just right

and simultaneously say it at the same time,

and after we did,

the earth grew a little quieter,

see, somehow we all collectively decided,

that anything that was ever worth saying,

had already been said.

I love you.


 

This the Common Air That Bathes the Globe

Update

Hello everybody,

I know I haven’t been on here as much, but I’ve been taking a break since I went back to school this semester, and of course working on top of that. Plus, I have been looking into other creative projects that’s been preoccupying my time, so prepare to see some new stuff.

Also, I’ve decided that I’ll be deleting some of my old poems on here. Everyday my writing is changing and growing with me. I just…don’t care about them enough to keep them. Hope you understand.

 

sincerely,

To’Wednesday Sibley/ Day Sibley

Update

Untitled Ninety-three

Do you love me?

There was a plea in your eyes

a choking sob

you caught in your throat.

I always thought I would be the one

to ask you those frightening questions

of doubt

insecurity.

The plan was never for anyone to get hurt

I’m sorry

for the pain I will cause your heart.

How cruel of me

to ruin a beautiful day

under the sun.

 

 

Untitled Ninety-three

Untitled Ninety-two

Be the writer of your own story.
Treat yourself like you’re the main
character of your own adventure!

Untitled Ninety-two

See your name listed online with other poets on Poets & Writers and Winning Writers!

Trish Hopkinson

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See your name listed online with other poets on Poets & Writers and Winning Writers!

Misanthropy

I have come to the conclusion that the more you understand people the more you loathe them. For instance, nobody cares about problem until it becomes theirs, but why didn’t they care enough to prevent it from becoming their problem? Or why do people start caring as soon as you stop?

Misanthropy