Pink Love
Pink is the color of Roses & the color of my babies Noses

Pink Posies bloom in Spring & my Lover gave me his Diamond Ring

Pink is Cotton Candy
Sticky on my Fingers
The Sun Set is Pink & My Gaze Lingers
Just us two here, a couple of Dreamers!

As the Children run Swiftly away in the Sand
A Pink Pooka Shell spins Softly in the palm of your Hand

All things Pink I surely do Love
The cheeks on my Sweetheart Oh Lovey Dove!

The Lips of my Love so soft and so Pink
My Lover teases Me with a Nod and a Wink

Pink is Pastel
Pink comes with Spring
Pink is a Mood
Hey Ho!
Bling Bling!

Many a first kiss
I have had during dating
None compare to one

Kissing my ex-wife
For the date that will go down
In my history

We were looking at
Two water turtles sunning
On the rocks of the

Confluence of two
Rivers – the Sacramento
And American

I imagined those
Two turtles were her and me
On that summer day

Getting romantic
Watching boats on the river
Seeing the drawbridge

Take their stature in
Yachts too tall to clear the bridge
Now they safely pass

My ex-wife and I
Sat on a wooden bench on
The wooden boardwalk

Old Sacramento
For both tourists and locals
And those on a date

Those such as ourselves
We felt comfortable in
Each other’s presence

Our arms got closer
Shyly meeting to see if
There’s a connection

Our hands met and touched
Interlaced fingers, pure joy
Nothing else like it

I want this moment
To last for my entire
Lifetime with her hand

Oh, it gets better
Our waiting lips meet for our
Satiating kiss

It was more than that
I felt ecstatic and high
There were fireworks

Behind my blue eyes
Really blue, not just my name
So many colors

Those pyrotechnics
In my imagination
So very vibrant

Filled with so much joy
Is this the best moment of
My entire life?

My present, past, and
The rest of my existence?
I can’t know for sure

Eighteen years later
It still came close to the best
But graduating

Summa cum laude
Was probably the moment
Of my best triumph

But damn, that kiss came
Pretty darn close to the best
Snippet of my life

Five years ago, we
Separated, then divorced
But our first kiss is

Indelibly etched
Seared into the recesses
Of my existence

Will any first kiss
Ever be better than the
One I had with her?

I have had many
In the past five years
None of them come close

To the pure joy shared
Between my ex-wife and me
She has since moved on

And now I sit here
Crafting this haiku series
Wondering if it

Will soon be my turn
To have a comparable
Kiss with someone else

Create something built
To last more than thirteen years
Give me joy again

Fleeting, but oh so fine
Is that illusive spirit joy.
Like finding gold in a mine
When expecting only alloy.
Difficult to cultivate.
Impossible to fabricate.
Though to many it’s innate,
It’s a puzzle trying to locate.

I’ve seen it in a child’s eye
While discovering new life –
A beetle, bear, or dragonfly,
The wonder is so rife.
I found it in a hummingbird,
When I was virtuous and young.
We spoke not a single word,
But to our souls we sung.

It grabs me by the heart
When music takes the reigns.
Of this world I am a part
As I dance in rhythmic refrains.
Classical, rock, or blues –
They all push me past the pain.
Each note that’s spun subdues
The ruckus in my brain.

Sometimes it slips inside me,
With that funny feeling – love,
Consuming me with giddy glee
Like the laughing stars above.
It warms me to my core
To hold my beloved close and tight.
Always hungry, wanting more
Before the moment’s taken flight.

But if you want to find it,
Don’t strain or look too hard.
Regardless of your charm or wit,
You may have to drop your guard,
For joy is free to those who open
Their head and heart and soul.
Then you must throw a little hope in
To capture it in whole.

I can barely breathe—
the weight of this world is suffocating,
pressing against my soul,
choking the hope out of me.

I hear my ancestors weeping,
their cries carried in the wind,
echoing through time,
through the blood-soaked soil they once stood upon.
They fought, they bled,
so we could rise, so we could be free,
so we could have a chance at a life they only dreamed of.
But look at us now—
divided, shattered, drowning in hate.

I want to scream,
I want to cry until the heavens shake,
until the earth opens and swallows this pain whole.
So much beauty in this world,
yet it is poisoned with rage,
tainted with the hands of those who refuse to see
that we are all flesh, all breath, all bone.

This cannot be what the Creator intended—
for us to build walls instead of bridges,
to raise our fists instead of our hearts,
to bury love beneath the weight of our differences.

Why can’t we love?
Why can’t we see that none of us are staying?
That no skin color, no wealth, no power
will save us from the grave?
In the end, we all return to the dust.
So why do we waste this gift of life on hatred?

I close my eyes,
and I pray that one day,
we will wake up and see each other
not as enemies, not as strangers,
but as souls—
woven from the same light,
created to love,
not to destroy.

There are love stories written in trembling hands,
inked in the quiver of first kisses,
sealed in the breathless hush of two souls colliding,
and I have read them all.

I have listened to the whispered nostalgia
of friends tracing their heartbreaks like constellations,
each one a wound they wear with pride—
because at least they got to bleed for something.
At least they got to hold love in their hands,
even if it crumbled like ash.

But where is the story for the ones who never got their first love?
The ones who sat in the audience,
watching the grand performance of devotion,
but never once felt the warmth of the stage lights?
Where is the song for the girl who has never been sung about?

I am that girl.
The one who was never the frantic “I can’t live without you.”
Never the name whispered in the dark to calm a racing heart.
Never the soft morning gaze of someone who sees the rest of their life in my eyes.

And it hurts.
God, it hurts.

To know that someone once ached for him,
that he has been loved in a way I never will be.
That he has a past where he was the sun,
while I am left wondering if I am even a flickering candle.

And I tell myself maybe love is coming.
Maybe one day, someone will look at me
the way poets describe—
with hunger, with reverence, with trembling hands reaching for something sacred.

But what if they don’t?
What if I am the space between heartbeats,
the silence between love songs,
the person who is always there but never the one?

What if I leave this world having never been
the reason someone couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep,
couldn’t breathe without saying my name?

What if I die and the world keeps turning,
unmoved by the absence of someone
who was never truly held?

And maybe that’s the part that breaks me the most.

Not just that I have never been adored,
but that I don’t know if I ever will be.

It was a beautiful day when I talked to you
That was a great feeling of something new
It was a beautiful day when I heard your voice
One that I wonder if I had a choice
It was a beautiful day when we met
A beautiful day that took away my breathe
Those were beautiful days I visited
I reminisce and sometimes I miss it
Those were beautiful times I looked into your eyes
What pretty pictures imprinted in my mind
Those were beautiful things we shared
I just wanted to tell you here
You were my everything

He started to mimic the cries of a child
The birds started their clicking sounds
Warnings in another language
Gun shots in the far distance
Still not home

Mirror Mirror on the wall,
Can I ask a few questions?
From different angles,
Different times &
Different spaces,
As my mind processes
This energy I’m emitting.
Looking for my reflection, perception
Always looking different, the
Human I’m becoming is
Constantly growing.While Looking
Through different angles,
Different times & different spaces.
Acknowledgement of growth
So I ask my mirrored self,
Where else can we go?
With the space & time.
What are we gonna do
With them both?
To create a better brighter image.
Mirror mirror on the wall
Why and how do
We reflect these images.

Dear, Unsealers:

I know, I’m a day behind as it’s the second day of February.

But it’s time to welcome in February all the same. After a whirlwind December and a long, drawn-out January.

This is the shortest month on the calendar. Twenty-eight days. Here’s hoping this month isn’t nearly as eventful as the last one was.

With that being said, it’s time to welcome in the new month…

Welcome, February!

After the longest January imaginable
The shortest month of the year opens the door

Twenty-eight new days ahead
Days of love, kindness, and compassion abound
Honoring the saints, Brigid of Kildare and Valentine

Of reminding ourselves
We’re in this world together
Through all of the twists and turns that come along

Days of finding voices and verses
With the Poetic Summer fast approaching

Even if the weather outside still reminds us of winter
There’s hope of brighter days coming our way

A blank canvas for the month ahead
One that goes by in the blink of an eye

He’s air

Not the air you breathe

He’s the air that gently brushed your cheek on that perfect spring morning

The warm air that feels like it’s been long awaited for on the first day of summer

The air that warms you because of the bonfire in the fall

The sweet air that brings you a step back and makes you realize what life is all about

The air that makes you see all the beauty everywhere

Heart went up in smoke.
Then turned cold,
Watching time unfold
As I inhale & exhale.
Observing the twists & turns
Of my vapors fading.
Just an observation, manipulating
“My space” through
(Time) as i Emit energy.
Particles partially fading
In a particular way.
To capture a picture.
Would be soo… captivating.
“Slow motion” catching a glimpse
Of 《time》 fading.

Time collapsed, reached
That destination.
Time to take it further.
Contemplating and recalculating
With another goal to reach.
Time consuming with
Work, reading & writing
Wonders of where to venture off to next.
Feet firmly planted trying to stay one step Ahead, staying in the moment & mixed past
Times for the “future” in the present.
Tenacious Times fall with a gift.

One day
I’ll have all that I need
And I won’t have to stress
About making it to
Tomorrow
In one piece.

One day
I’ll be on the beach
Sipping on margaritas
And working on that tan
Without it becoming a
Red lobster burn.

One day
Is all I need
To have my day
In the sun,
To finally be
THAT person.

One day
There won’t be
A Climate of Fear
Choking me
Every time I dare
To speak against horror.

One day
We’ll all realize
The preciousness of sharing
This finite world
And finally work for
The sake of preserving
Life great and small.

One day
Is perhaps the
Single worst word pairing
In the English language.
It’s a panacea at best.
A half hearted no at worst.

One day
Hangs loosely in
The future
As I finish this.
I’ll say it less
Someday. One day.

Planting a royal tree,
It blossoms with love
Grown with loyalty.
Sprouted in the darkness.
With the crown loving the light.
Rooted in nature, with water
Becoming bigger & stronger.
Benefits from the Fruits of my labor.
Self love being plucked and enjoyed
New roots & branches being exploited.

Vulnerable with some,
Assertive with respect.
Loud with boundaries,
Insecure with experience
Determined with patience.

My phone is filled with notes
A continuation of fragmented phrases pieced together with intention
Folding neatly within each other
Yet so scattered
As I continue on this journey to clarification
Love
I bring up the word love
The feeling of the word love
four letters depicting emotion
Viewing the world differently because of it
I know my love is near
Arms reached out in eye range
Filled with the feeling
Overflowing with thought
Joy fills my notes
Although these fragmented phrases run across my phone
In due time it will all make sense and all the pieces will be where they need to be.

I know I’m supposed to hate you,
and by all rights, I should.
You’re the man who loved her before me,
and you didn’t treat her good.

She came to me so broken,
her trust was crushed to pieces.
I worked so hard to mend it,
Bringing her flowers and Reese’s.

You never liked her laugh,
So she buried it like a coffin.
I love her wonderful cackle,
and I make her do it often.

She told me about the fights,
all the yelling and the hurt.
The only time we raise our voice,
Is when we’re singing in church.

You never liked her family,
and her family never liked you.
But when I walk in the door,
They all cheer “MATTHEW!”

I’m glad you didn’t treat her right,
You taught her a valuable lesson.
And made me work for her love,
With a pure-heart intention.

I’d like to say that losing her,
Was the biggest mistake of your life.
But you did all the right things,
to send me my wife.

So I guess I can’t really hate you,
I don’t have a reason.
In a weird way, I love you, man…
and thank you for leavin!

“Her Ex”
-Matty Jablonsky