_my first girlfriend.

I have decided that my first girlfriend will be loud.
She’ll whisper like a megaphone in a mausoleum
And sing with all the finesse of a jackhammer.
More Motley Crew than Madonna
Ink running through her veins
Tattoos sprinting across her arms
Like she wanted the Sistine Chapel on her skin.
And her earphones sing the steel hum of heavy metal
Speaking enough gut wrenching chords to drown in,
Beating cymbals and hi-hats on her eardrums.

 My first girlfriend will curse like a Death Eater
Punctuating her phrases with all the profanity
I never had a taste for.
She will have an affinity for blood and broken windows
A shot glass full of poison and tequila
And she will look like a model
Waltzing down a concrete walkway
Doing her best impression
Of everything she tries to hide from her bathroom mirror.

 My first girlfriend will be honest.
She’ll tell me things like:
“Your poetry doesn’t make sense”
Or “You’re all talk, all the time”
And “Don’t be so afraid to take a chance!”
She will walk with the authority of Eve
In the Garden of Eden after the feast
And she’ll be confident.
Knows she’s beautiful.
Knows she’s smart.
Knows she can play your games better than you can.
And doesn’t care about any of that.
She’ll bring up death, bring up life
And she’ll look up and ask what heaven hides
Like she knew that there were angels
Playing peek-a-boo through the cumulus.

 My first girlfriend will be half Asian
Half “who gives a shit?”
And she will have a name like Catherine.
And Catherine will love spicy chicken wings
And extra sour Skittles
She will never like pink or purple,
Has this odd attraction to the colour crimson
And be fascinated by broken sand castles and cracked clocks.

 And she will confuse the shit out of every girl
That I’ve ever known!
Like “Why her? Why that dark crimson woman
With all that anger and electricity in her tongue?
Why her with her painted limbs, the sharp wit
And the thunder in her voice like a rock anthem?
Why not someone like her?
Or her?
Or anyone else!?”

 And I will reply:
“Because she’s not YOU!
And they weren’t her.
Or her.
Or anyone else!
Because she’s here.
Because she cares. Because she stayed.
Because I’ve tried and I’ve always failed.
See, I tried being your favourite love song
Your gentle symphony.
The one-man band
With the bass line of your ballad buried in his heartbeat
Trying to keep tempo when I could have done better
With a woman who wears the electric screech
Of a broken guitar riff instead of an acoustic melody.
A girl…so wrong from the get-go
But we jigsaw into each other’s arms
Like destiny painted us in a constellation
Too close to the sun but too far from the Earth.
All that warm sunshine with nowhere to go
And all the time in the world.”

 My first girlfriend will be different.

WhatIWant

There comes a time in every man’s life where they have to be truthful and comfortable with themselves and their emotions. He has to come to grips with how he feels, no matter what the repercussions may be or how he will be seen by his peers. He has to stand firm in what he believes and not let anyone influence his opinion or conviction. So the fact of the matter is…

I

LOVE

ASIAN GIRLS.

Yes, it’s true. But not just any Oriental beauty…I want a SUPER ASIAN girl!

Asian like…Tai Chi and Kung Fu.
Asian like…Feng Shui and chopsticks.
Asian like…anime and manga…Naruto, Inu Yasha and Dragonball Z.
A girl that knows what all of those are…and likes them.

Give me Lucy Liu, Kelly Hu, and Brenda Song…but without the perfect English.
Something like Zhang Ziyi, Kim Yuna or any K-pop singer you’ve ever heard of.
I want her so Asian that she bleeds soy sauce and emits laser light shows and bubbly pop music.
I want a girl so Asian that if you were to give her a dress and a sword, she would blend in perfectly on the set of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Martial arts moves included.
So Asian that just bringing up her name brings to mind sexy dragon ladies hidden beneath the makeup of a geisha…but without the makeup. And I could hold her as close as I wanted because of her non-existent breasteses.
So Asian that she would have a tattoo on her back saying Made In China. Or one on her butt that says Made in Taiwan.

A girl that I could take out and enjoy the night with as I stand behind her as she moves to the beat of the music…coming right out of speakers on the DDR machine she’s playing on.
A girl that would be just as at home at a karaoke bar drinking sake as she would in a dark room…playing Starcraft, DragonQuest and Pokemon. Looking up Yu-Gi-Oh! Cards on eBay while she’s burning the newest released movie on a bootleg Blu-Ray disc to watch in a few hours.
I want a girl that slips her L’s into R’s and sometimes her F’s into P’s.
A girl so Asian that she would always try to speak Asian to me…or try to teach me. But I would always ask for subtitles. Even though it’s in person and that’s really not possible…but I still wish it would be…someday.

I want an Asian girl so I can do Asian things…
Like…solve math equations. Learn to play the piano. Not drive well. Or go outside of our comfort zones and do something crazy…like snowboarding. But not too much, because I want to preserve her Asian-ness.

During our first date she would invite me over to meet her parents, LingLing and Jason. Last name Kim, or Lee, or Chen, or Reyes…or something to that effect. And in between eating rice and noodles for dinner, and having halo-halo for dessert…we would discuss Civics, Skylines, 350Zs and Integras.
The times we spend together at her house would consist of watching the latest episode of her favourite Korean drama, drinking green tea, while redoing the HTML coding on her Tumblr and Blogspot.
And one day we’ll get married. Have little kids like Russell from UP and she would hit them…like most Asian parents do. But the way SHE does it…would be complete with a Bruce Lee “HIYYYAAA!” to accompany her jumping crane kick. And we would live happily ever after…unless we starred in a movie where one of us has to eventually die of cancer.

The End.

JustAnotherLovePoem

I’m not going to waste time with an introduction describing this piece because in the end, it’s just another love poem. Another page in the anthologies of love poems I’ve written through the years about females that have captivated me enough, to make me want to waste hours thinking about them and how great they are. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t mean this. So, if I ever tell you that this piece was about you…then it’s still as meaningful as the first one I ever wrote.
But to everyone else, this is just another love poem.

This is just another 3 minute piece about how I think this one girl is beyond comparison. A girl that could be the definition of average to you, because none of you are thinking “Oh, he’s talking about her…I’m 100% sure”. And I’m sure you’re not thinking that so stop pretending that you are.

Here’s another minute and a half of inane babbling of me describing how perfect she is. How every single one of her flaws just end up seeming cute to me and every sentence she’s ever said to me is my favourite sentence EVER. How I like her a whole bunch of a lot more than is necessary because she’s amazingly awesome and I’m wishing I could be a part of that. Maybe even how she’s so attractive that the word attractive isn’t enough to even describe her pinky toe and how her face has me forgetting the face of every other girl I’ve seen before her.

How metaphors don’t do justice to her essence, and nothing I can imagine is as beautiful as her…and believe me I’ve tried. How no man will ever deserve her…though I’m praying she would settle for me. Even though the chances of that happening are like me getting hit by a car…while getting struck by lightning…and getting bitten simultaneously by a radioactive bug and a really drunk homeless man…as tornadoes touch down and a tsunami hits Toronto in 2012.

But this is just another love poem where I say that the only thing I want from her is a hug when I’m feeling down. Maybe a smile, when I’m feeling like everything’s going wrong. Maybe a couple of minutes alone in a park when it feels like everything is beyond hectic. Maybe a couple more romantic instances in relation to problems that either one of us could be having, as a way to get away from it all. And this is the sentence where I talk about how much I wish I could just escape with her someplace, right between where the angels sleep and where earth and heaven meet.

Now this is the part where I talk about how much she means to me. How I wish that she’s fallen asleep or even left while I’m saying this because I don’t have the courage to let her know any of this. But then again, this is just another love poem. Because all I’ve ever done is write love poems.

I’ve never acted on any of it because I have this fear of rejection that I just can’t get over. So I write, and I write.
In the end, this is probably just another love poem to add to the collection. But then again…maybe it’s not.

TheTits

Now here’s a list of what I look for in a girl…

TITS…
Really don’t matter to me. Because the only A’s, B’s, C’s and D’s I care about in a girl are on her report cards. I want an academic type of female, regardless of her cup size as long as she upsized on God-given intellect. I would find her sexier if she read William Shakespeare and The Great Gatsby instead of Elle, Cosmopolitan and Seventeen so she could know what to wear. If she wore glasses so she could read, instead of a corset to accent her hips and breasts, she’d be more attractive because personality don't jiggle and no one ogles a sense of humor.

EYES…
Don’t make much of a difference; it’s what she sees through her eyes that “eye” care about. A girl could have the most beautiful hazel eyes, but see the worst side of things. But a girl that sees the bright side of life is amazing…and I could stare into her poop colored irises for hours. Crystal clear blue eyes don’t change a thing if she’s blind to the world, blind to how much I care and blind to the fact that looks aren’t everything. Her exotic, slanted eyes don’t work as well when she doesn’t see the bigger picture and I have to resort to…forcing eye contact between us when she has her blinders on.

PERFECT LIPS…
Wouldn’t make much of a difference. As long as she could use hers to speak words that could make my blood boil, and my mind zone out. Regardless of her kissing ability, I would willingly sacrifice hearing a singer’s voice for the right choice of words being said to me instead of having intercourse. If she was mute…her lips would be nothing more than ornaments. So I look for what lies behind…the thoughts being said through her hands that I would rather have being held in mine.

She doesn’t need to have LONG, BLONDE HAIR…She could be Amber Rose bald for all I care. Which is kind of ironic...since Kanye loves one, but dislikes the other. But I couldn’t care less, as long as she got a passing grade from my mother.

And ASS…
Is nothing more than what you use to sit down. She could have an apple bottom, watermelon bottom, papaya bottom, or grape bottom…whatever that means…as long as she could sit across from me and have interesting conversation. The only curves I need on a girl are the distortions her voice makes in the air as she talks to me because I'd take Taylor Swift over Kim Kardashian any day.

LONG LEGS…
Aren’t that important. So long as she can take me places I’ve never even thought of, it’s an easy exception to make. Regardless of the state of her legs, she can limp right into my dreams…and yes, my heart is wheelchair accessible.

ELF EARS...YEAH! ELF EARS!

Now I’m not saying I’m not shallow. I wouldn’t say no to a supermodel, but I’m just looking as hard as I can for what makes a woman a person, instead of a Barbie doll. I’m trying to change attractive to appealing…interested to intriguing. Basically, I’m just looking for a better person than what lies on the outside. And maybe, she can help me become one too.

MapTheSoul

We started off as perfect strangers…boy meets girl.

Introductions to a date, infatuation into fate; now she’s my whole world.

Heaven sent, she’s God’s gift without a doubt in my mind.

But I can’t help but wonder why our paths just happened to collide.

Destiny, taps me on the back to say hello.

But it was actually her touch and I’ll never let her go

Then she spoke, I never heard a voice so sweet

Her laugh is so amazing so I’ll never let her weep…now…

I’m trying to map the soul of a soulful girl from Seoul, Korea who I wish would be my soul-mate because…I keep getting lost in her eyes and I am in search of the path that would lead me to her mind…and from there I would follow the road to her heart.

Etymology can’t begin to dissect what I could describe about her. What makes her so special that the depths of my affections for her go beyond the distance of time and space in the Milky Way. But I’ll give it a shot anyway.

The back of her head is just the perfect shape, the cuticles on her fingernails are always clean and she has the cutest lisp you can ever imagine. My soul shivers whenever she says words like “soul”, when she tells me to “slow down” and when I - ATCHOO - “God bless you”.
Her fingers bend in the cutest way, she has dimples below the corners of her mouth and the 17th eyelash on the bottom eyelid of her left eye is so beautiful. Her right bicuspid is just a little bit longer than the left but it all fits perfectly when she smiles. When she holds in her laughter, she puts her hand over her mouth until she can’t take it anymore and she just bursts out laughing. And most of all, when she talks…I pay attention.

But then that’s only topographical.

The way I feel for this girl is so deep, it can’t be placed on the map of her soul. It’s three dimensional, and it’s larger than any global sphere of this planet. Even from far she’s gorgeous, a sight to behold…she’s earthbound and angelic, and I don’t need a telescope to wonder in awe. NASA eat your heart out.
But if there was a telescope that let me see into her soul, I’d be sold. Because all I’m doing is trying to map her soul so that I can find my way through the most complex regions of her mind and her heart with the use of a compass I refer to as…her words.

Through conversations and shared thoughts, I can outline the walls around her heart and cross borders towards her feelings. Backpacking through the confines of her being, through the wild terrain of her imagination and the lofty palace she calls her goals and aspirations… I can continue my mission to explore and map the most beautiful part of her essence…her soul.

She

She...is perfect.
Not just one aspect. But every little thing that adds up to it.
She is beautiful.
Not in one way. But in any imaginable.
Inside out she's still a goddess.
Plus she's modest...even with the physique of a model.
She is the sun. My sun.
Not the only one that brightens up my day.
But the reason I live to see another one.
She is my summer breeze.
She is my reprieve.
She is my oxygen.
Without her I couldn't think straight.
I would turn blue with the blues without her in my life.
Breathing every single part of her into myself.
Deep into my lungs until I'm high off the simple thought of her.
Forgetting to exhale because I want to hold her as long possible.
She is the light at the end of the tunnel.
My escape from the darkness.
And my gateway to the Garden of Eden.
Where everything is how it's supposed to be.
Where everything is beautiful without question.
Because I see her in everything.
She is the very definition of the galaxy.
Because she means the world to me.
She is the brightest star, my favorite celebrity.
And at the same time my number one fan.
She is my medicine.
She is also my ailment.
She has me lovesick. And I'm loving every second of it.
Every twinge of sadness I feel for every minute we don't spend together.
She is my vicodin with a little morphine.
Making all the hurt disappear with a single touch.
With the whisper of her voice, the pain just drifts away.
She is my Einstein mixed with a little bit of Da Vinci.
My revolutionary symbol of love in a cold, cold world.
Making every little rotten, complicated thing make sense.
She is the answer to the greatest question in history.
What is life and what am I supposed to do with mine.
And my answer is her.
And only her.
She is the never-ending subject of my thoughts.
The last thing I think about before I sleep.
What I spend every night dreaming about.
And the first thought in my head when I awake.
So in a way, I never stop thinking about her.
And I'm fine with that.
She is unexplainable.
She is indescribable.
She is undefinable.
But I'm trying my very best to put her essence in words.
She...is perfect.
But she's yet to walk into my life.
So I'm still twiddling my thumbs and waiting here.
Praying that someday...She comes.
And she will be the she who I speak of.