(More) Poems

November 2025

It wouldn’t be a Phoebe piece without a new poem or two. I got inspired to write the one below as I was going up in my elevator one night, honestly just feeling a bit… bad? unsettled? discomforted?, and had a very simple thought: what if healing (i.e. evolving i.e. growing i.e. etc.) doesn’t always feel good or look good? What if it’s not this pretty perfect thing? What if it's a much subtler, more intuitive journey mixed with a bit of a mess or emotional waviness?

I decided to write that question, that idea, into a poem.

is this what healing is?

dollar store votives 

burned down

to their last light

fizzy beverages

in grandpa’s hoodie

pjs at 6 at night

from sweet champagne

sticky dancefloor

4am disco 

to a jewelbox home

furnished enough

romance films

overplayed

as reckless loves

color routine days

was i falsely promised

a happy ending honest

one true single moment

when the roughness

gets sloughed away

because lord only knows

how my ruggedness shows

through this clumsy quest 

to find center

As I was finishing up the poem above, I looked out my window and noticed that the sun looked like the moon. I was tickled by the idea, and put it into the following:

when sun looks like the moon

when the sun looks like the moon

remember the light will shine again soon

when the moon looks like the sun

you’re probably drunk and having fun

Lastly, I pulled this one out of the archives that was just sitting in my notes. Seemed to fit nicely with this whole theme (synchronistic, one could say)…

a poem for rest

Sleeping is nice

All sugar no spice

Even when I stir 

Once or twice

The lulling hum

Of the hearts soft drum

Breathes me once again to rest

Cozy in my nest