Francis Arevalo on Wax Poetic Co-Op Radio Vancouver!
My second radio show with Pam Bentley :) Hear me stutter and talk about things!
My second radio show with Pam Bentley :) Hear me stutter and talk about things!
I’ll be featuring at the Vancouver Poetry Slam tomorrow!
Check out the event on Facebook :)
Francis Arevalo - “Vancouver Love”
I am grateful that I got to work with the boys at Brav3 Productions. This is for the dreamers so I hope you can feel me on this one. Enjoy!
Mark Perez - My Teaching Assistant
Another piece from our trip to the UBC B.Ed Hip Hop Lecture. It’ll speak for itself!
If you want one, I will come to you with one in hand :) Leave me a little note at “Get in Touch” when you get a chance.
They are full of poems, $15 each, and can also act as a paperweight, distraction, and best friend.
If you feel this book is worth reblogging, please do. Thank you sincerely.
(Source: francisarevalo)
“This Poem Must Score High”
@rhenceocampo, donnelvncvrkid, @thestreetlightparade, @andwall, @blowsaing, @justthatguynamedaki, @bliam, @graceyfacey, @interiorpalimpset
Thanks for the love and support for the book! Word. 
If you want one, I will come to you with one in hand :) Leave me a little note at “Get in Touch” when you get a chance.
They are full of poems, $15 each, and can also act as a paperweight, distraction, and best friend.
If you feel this book is worth reblogging, please do.
i set my keys on the table and remove my life
hang it on the hooks
in the washroom
i try to make my face attractive
and get my conviction together
she wants that kind of man
who does crosswords in ink
i’m still trying to get the words right
you wondered why her hands were so cold
that morning
it was summer
hot enough to wear
self-conciousness
out in the open
your eyes looked
like whatever season the year chose.
she reflected
whatever you seemed
but it was always
for some odd reason
vancouver weather inside you
catching many quiet axes
in the bark of your heart
you are skinny but thick-skinned
and used to it
their smiles cut you
in places you can’t describe
you hope she
doesn’t
feel lonely next to him:
the closer she is,
the farther away she feels from him, and from you
the lonelier the air wanders,
the less her clothes fit nice
you hope she
does
feel lonely next to him
so she can fall
with you
to sleep,
in love,
during autumn
the times when you fall the most
be your tree
shade
and cover
ignited by the
match
you two might make,
her head fits between your chest
and arm
the way a body curls into
love
to feel
the fireplace
you
could be
with the axes
piled high away from you
and nothing else.
you are philippine mango swell
i’ve pretended everyday of mine
is some abstract summertime
but you are concrete
after-rain smell
so now,
i will make funny faces
i will be your front doorstep the day you take off your braces
i promise you gondolas, and eiffel towers,
just to be the man you write home about
i’ve never been that
i want to cook you foods i can’t pronounce
and leave
enough-of-some-food-you-can-eat-when-i’m-not-around food in the fridge
your memory smells like apple pie
your favourite necessity
and hyperboles aside, we have never had a laughless day since start
we have a view,
watching this world fall apart
gauging each other’s faults,
i confessed my earthquakes to you
we crack each other open quietly but enough
like the crack of a door to hear the crickets
i love how you slip in to me
to introduce me to exclamation marks
i am sorry
trial and error’s the way i seatbelt certainty
but the world is not getting younger, and age is just a number
i skipped the first grade, proof i wanna skip the basics,
i wanna learn hard and fast, the same way we fell for each other
yet honestly,
i’m nervous when you read the travel section
how you tell me
you live best when you have something to look forward to
i’d like to be tomorrow
and on our slow days
we will make love like our parents passed away
you were the only person to find enough space between my chest and chainmail
to beat your heart into
i still wonder who would write their life with someone this pencil-thin
i want to go home to wherever you are
you will quiet life’s gnashing mouth
to remind me
food tastes better
with soft music
good company
and the travel section