Author Notes:
These words came to me in the middle of the night..and I felt compelled to write them down. There is someone reading who must relate, because the urge to write them was so powerful, I felt I was being led to say this. Not the most eloquent, but I think it's a message that needed to be said.
I see you...
where the world looks
with intellect,
trying to decode,
I see you simply..
with my heart.
I know the pain
you try to silence
by not speaking.
I hear it in between
casual dialogue
read it in between the lines.
Your silence doesn't drown
out the screams,
your vow doesn't stop
the movie from playing
over and over
behind closed eyes.
I see you...
a little boy, lurking in shadows
afraid to be seen,
terrified to be heard.
I know you...
the pain you carry defies words
things they wouldn't (and didn't) believe
when you told them
happen just the same
just another day in
My-town, Your-town, USA.
I'm not sure what my purpose is here
other than to offer my friendship,
tell you that it's okay.
It's okay to want to hide,
even after all these years.
We're all hiding something,
everyone has pain or hunger
that just can't quite be put to rest.
Just don't hide so much
that the essence of 'You' is lost.
Because then you push others away
and they never get to know all the amazing
yet complex layers and facets of your personality.
Make the future memories which you hold onto,
dream big and make life happen
here and now.
If you do this,
the ghosts won't completely disappear,
but over time, they will learn
to limit their visiting hours,
and you will finally get some rest,
find some peace.
That is what I truly wish for you,
my friend.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Naked Embrace
I want you naked
on your back
pushed down hard
under attack
mouth to flesh
hands in my hair
stripping away
your every care
a wicked smile
upon my lips
as I dare to venture
below your hips
a sharp breath inward
as our dance begins
fingertips gliding
over your skin
looking up and
meeting your gaze
sensing your passion
your fire ablaze
becoming one
where once we
were two
sinking deeply
so long overdue
the music
has ended
and yet
we remain
deeply transcended~
completely expended
on your back
pushed down hard
under attack
mouth to flesh
hands in my hair
stripping away
your every care
a wicked smile
upon my lips
as I dare to venture
below your hips
a sharp breath inward
as our dance begins
fingertips gliding
over your skin
looking up and
meeting your gaze
sensing your passion
your fire ablaze
becoming one
where once we
were two
sinking deeply
so long overdue
the music
has ended
and yet
we remain
deeply transcended~
completely expended
Crimson Beauty
In the midst
of murkiness
and fog
muted colors
are all I see
when suddenly
around the bend
she appears
standing tall
standing proud
forcing us to take notice
her branches ablaze
with shades of crimson
scarlet
and vermillion
chromatic to the third degree
she stands alone
unafraid to let her colors show
blazing brightly
adding passion
giving beauty
an affirmation of life
on an otherwise
dismal
day
of gray
My Muse
am I alone
in my wanting
my hoping,
and dreaming for more?
do you ever awake
willing me to be,
there at your door?
would we walk by the river
would we lie by the sea
would I look in your eyes
and reflected, see me?
would you take me on a road trip
would you map the route to your heart
would you kiss my lips farewell
would you wish to never part
would we spin around in circles
would we run mazes through the corn
would you hold me through the night
and watch the sun announce the morn
would you speak to me with your eyes
with your passion, with your song
with your newly unfettered footsteps
dancing across my soul at dawn
Would you love me without ceasing
would you never let it fade
would you promise me the next lifetime
we’ll no longer be afraid?
in my wanting
my hoping,
and dreaming for more?
do you ever awake
willing me to be,
there at your door?
would we walk by the river
would we lie by the sea
would I look in your eyes
and reflected, see me?
would you take me on a road trip
would you map the route to your heart
would you kiss my lips farewell
would you wish to never part
would we spin around in circles
would we run mazes through the corn
would you hold me through the night
and watch the sun announce the morn
would you speak to me with your eyes
with your passion, with your song
with your newly unfettered footsteps
dancing across my soul at dawn
Would you love me without ceasing
would you never let it fade
would you promise me the next lifetime
we’ll no longer be afraid?
Letter to no one...part one
Days weeks
months and years
pass by
and still you are
the cancer of my mind.
it was 13 years ago we first met
and a decade ago we became lovers.
Passion, excitement
awakening…
love and then something more
something deeper than love
a bottomless emptiness
that only you could fill.
Life became complicated,
we hid our love away…
true feelings kept hidden,
sloppily tucked away.
I don’t know who we thought we were fooling…
permanent longing, lasting looks
were written all over our faces,
looks shared only by two people
who have shared one soul…
bare, naked
stark and real.
I didn’t get tired of waiting, as you have implied.
Back then, time was on my side.
Wating I could do….it wasn’t the waiting, it was the pain.
Even I, with a higher than normal pain threshold
couldn’t endure the pain you inflicted.
Strike that…
I could endure it,
but not
forever.
Too painful to be reminded of what it was like
to have found home,
only to live in seperate houses…
to steal hours and hours away
together
only to return seperately
and find we were not even missed..
in our houses we were not seen,
not heard, not touched, not felt..
Only together were each of us made whole.
I was ready for you my love…
if only you had asked..
I was yours for the taking.
I did not grow tired of waiting…
I grew tired of hurting.
You were not ready for ME
Once that became clear
what choice did I have?
The ball was set in motion
and I just had to find a way
to keep putting
one foot
in front of
the other.
Just keep moving
go with the flow.
Back then I was stuck in a box.
I didn’t think there were many choices
to escape the box.
If I hadn’t kept moving,
I would still be waiting today in misery.
Thank God I kept moving
through a failed marriage…
thank God I kept going.
You were all that I needed
and yet could never be enough.
How is that possible?
Eight years ago, the evening before
my wedding…a rehearsal dinner…
every toast had deeper meaning.
Words hidden within structured sentences
Every time our eyes would meet the words left unsaid
became crystal clear.
I knew it was a mistake
but it was a mistake I had to make.
Running to the ladies room to throw up
as the knot in my stomach became too much to bear.
The warning signs were all there…
don’t marry someone you’re not in love with anymore.
There was no drama like on TV shows…
no one stood up at the ceremony to object…
but you were there late that night,
I was awake all night
couldn’t sleep…
you the cancer of my mind kept invading my thoughts.
Sitting up in darkness by the window, with the moon my only illumination
I gazed out the window
and saw you.
You were out there across the street…standing outside your car, just looking
towards the house…..
months and years
pass by
and still you are
the cancer of my mind.
it was 13 years ago we first met
and a decade ago we became lovers.
Passion, excitement
awakening…
love and then something more
something deeper than love
a bottomless emptiness
that only you could fill.
Life became complicated,
we hid our love away…
true feelings kept hidden,
sloppily tucked away.
I don’t know who we thought we were fooling…
permanent longing, lasting looks
were written all over our faces,
looks shared only by two people
who have shared one soul…
bare, naked
stark and real.
I didn’t get tired of waiting, as you have implied.
Back then, time was on my side.
Wating I could do….it wasn’t the waiting, it was the pain.
Even I, with a higher than normal pain threshold
couldn’t endure the pain you inflicted.
Strike that…
I could endure it,
but not
forever.
Too painful to be reminded of what it was like
to have found home,
only to live in seperate houses…
to steal hours and hours away
together
only to return seperately
and find we were not even missed..
in our houses we were not seen,
not heard, not touched, not felt..
Only together were each of us made whole.
I was ready for you my love…
if only you had asked..
I was yours for the taking.
I did not grow tired of waiting…
I grew tired of hurting.
You were not ready for ME
Once that became clear
what choice did I have?
The ball was set in motion
and I just had to find a way
to keep putting
one foot
in front of
the other.
Just keep moving
go with the flow.
Back then I was stuck in a box.
I didn’t think there were many choices
to escape the box.
If I hadn’t kept moving,
I would still be waiting today in misery.
Thank God I kept moving
through a failed marriage…
thank God I kept going.
You were all that I needed
and yet could never be enough.
How is that possible?
Eight years ago, the evening before
my wedding…a rehearsal dinner…
every toast had deeper meaning.
Words hidden within structured sentences
Every time our eyes would meet the words left unsaid
became crystal clear.
I knew it was a mistake
but it was a mistake I had to make.
Running to the ladies room to throw up
as the knot in my stomach became too much to bear.
The warning signs were all there…
don’t marry someone you’re not in love with anymore.
There was no drama like on TV shows…
no one stood up at the ceremony to object…
but you were there late that night,
I was awake all night
couldn’t sleep…
you the cancer of my mind kept invading my thoughts.
Sitting up in darkness by the window, with the moon my only illumination
I gazed out the window
and saw you.
You were out there across the street…standing outside your car, just looking
towards the house…..
For Marcus~they lies/we failed
Author notes:
True story about Marcus Fiesel. One day I'll work on revisions..a painful write.
Eyes of ocean blue
a mop of cocoa brown hair
impish grin
3 years old
a smile that betrayed the truth
defenseless
the first years of your life
spent living among fleas
and feces
falling out of second floor windows
found wandering the streets
not so uncomon
in a boy
with Autism
the bruises that were found
among the other things
raised alarm
and you were given over
to police custody
a new life promised
a better life
full of hope
they lied
they lied
they lied
and WE failed
placed you in the home
where the ultimate tragedy
would occur
you went missing
foster mom claims she collaped
at the park
and when she came to
you were gone
a search ensues
thousands of volunteers
desperately search
hoping to find a clue
a video plea is made
foster mom pleading
for what??
they lied
they lied
they lied
as the weeks go by
the truth comes out
a family reunion
out of state
why bother finding
someone to take care of you?
Was it easier to tie your hands
behind your back,
then wrap you in a blanket
in the middle of a scorching heat wave
bound with duct tape
and stuff you in a closet?
Apparently so..
they returned
and found you already dead
but your horror didn't stop there
foster dad, mentally unstable
who slipped through the cracks
of justice and background checks
took your little body
to a secluded location
he found an abandoned
property--the perfect location
with an old stone chimney
just large enough
to put your tiny body
douse it with gasoline
and burn the evidence-
which was you,
Marcus
they lied
they lied
they lied-
they're still lying
I wish that we had heard of you
differently
that you would have had a loving home
filled with hope, understanding, acceptance
where someone would have taken
the time
to work with you
to help you
but above all
to love you...
I wish that the only reason
I had ever heard of Marcus Fiesel
was because he grew up
and conquered the problems he faced
that you would have been the next J-Mac,
or something even greater...
words alone
cannot begin to express
the pain I feel
knowing your life
was so brutally taken
first by Autism
robbing you of a voice
and clarity
then by the people who
were supposed to protect you
sing Marcus, sing
for finally you have a voice
finally you are loved
unconditionally
perfectly
where no one can ever hurt you again
True story about Marcus Fiesel. One day I'll work on revisions..a painful write.
Eyes of ocean blue
a mop of cocoa brown hair
impish grin
3 years old
a smile that betrayed the truth
defenseless
the first years of your life
spent living among fleas
and feces
falling out of second floor windows
found wandering the streets
not so uncomon
in a boy
with Autism
the bruises that were found
among the other things
raised alarm
and you were given over
to police custody
a new life promised
a better life
full of hope
they lied
they lied
they lied
and WE failed
placed you in the home
where the ultimate tragedy
would occur
you went missing
foster mom claims she collaped
at the park
and when she came to
you were gone
a search ensues
thousands of volunteers
desperately search
hoping to find a clue
a video plea is made
foster mom pleading
for what??
they lied
they lied
they lied
as the weeks go by
the truth comes out
a family reunion
out of state
why bother finding
someone to take care of you?
Was it easier to tie your hands
behind your back,
then wrap you in a blanket
in the middle of a scorching heat wave
bound with duct tape
and stuff you in a closet?
Apparently so..
they returned
and found you already dead
but your horror didn't stop there
foster dad, mentally unstable
who slipped through the cracks
of justice and background checks
took your little body
to a secluded location
he found an abandoned
property--the perfect location
with an old stone chimney
just large enough
to put your tiny body
douse it with gasoline
and burn the evidence-
which was you,
Marcus
they lied
they lied
they lied-
they're still lying
I wish that we had heard of you
differently
that you would have had a loving home
filled with hope, understanding, acceptance
where someone would have taken
the time
to work with you
to help you
but above all
to love you...
I wish that the only reason
I had ever heard of Marcus Fiesel
was because he grew up
and conquered the problems he faced
that you would have been the next J-Mac,
or something even greater...
words alone
cannot begin to express
the pain I feel
knowing your life
was so brutally taken
first by Autism
robbing you of a voice
and clarity
then by the people who
were supposed to protect you
sing Marcus, sing
for finally you have a voice
finally you are loved
unconditionally
perfectly
where no one can ever hurt you again
Muted Visions
This picture
We’ve been painting
Is not permanent
We haven’t broken out
The oils or acrylics
Instead we’re playing
With watercolors
So easily
Altered~
A single
Tear
Drop
Blurs…
Smudges
The lines
We’ve carefully
Laid down
Boundaries become
Fuzzy
before we
Realize what’s
Taking shape
Our creation
Becomes
Completely muted
Watered down
Washed out
Instead of the
Vibrant
Canvas
It could have
Been…
Shall we try
Again?
Recreate,
Procreate...
Something
Of permanence?
Or are we stuck in this medium..
where emotions
are
Easily washed
Away?
We’ve been painting
Is not permanent
We haven’t broken out
The oils or acrylics
Instead we’re playing
With watercolors
So easily
Altered~
A single
Tear
Drop
Blurs…
Smudges
The lines
We’ve carefully
Laid down
Boundaries become
Fuzzy
before we
Realize what’s
Taking shape
Our creation
Becomes
Completely muted
Watered down
Washed out
Instead of the
Vibrant
Canvas
It could have
Been…
Shall we try
Again?
Recreate,
Procreate...
Something
Of permanence?
Or are we stuck in this medium..
where emotions
are
Easily washed
Away?
Quilt of Memories
You come to me in many distant thoughts...
You are
comfort,
loss...
a reminder of innocence
You are
heartache...
the smell of lavender sachet,
a big fluffy towel, fresh from the dryer
you are,
yellow roses, just because...
pansies planted in old tire planters,
a thousand kisses goodnight,
and a million kisses lost forever.
You are
ice pops on a summer day,
the whisper in the wind,
caretaker of my soul..
my son's guardian angel,
and smiling eyes reflected in my daughter...
you gave me life only to have yours end
so suddenly,
so painfully.
You are
strong,
brave and stubborn
you are a lot like me, I think,
yet will never fully know..
You are hundreds of small memories,
I piece together in my mind
until they make
a quilt I can wrap myself in
getting lost in the memories of you..
you are,
simply
my mom.
You are
comfort,
loss...
a reminder of innocence
You are
heartache...
the smell of lavender sachet,
a big fluffy towel, fresh from the dryer
you are,
yellow roses, just because...
pansies planted in old tire planters,
a thousand kisses goodnight,
and a million kisses lost forever.
You are
ice pops on a summer day,
the whisper in the wind,
caretaker of my soul..
my son's guardian angel,
and smiling eyes reflected in my daughter...
you gave me life only to have yours end
so suddenly,
so painfully.
You are
strong,
brave and stubborn
you are a lot like me, I think,
yet will never fully know..
You are hundreds of small memories,
I piece together in my mind
until they make
a quilt I can wrap myself in
getting lost in the memories of you..
you are,
simply
my mom.
The Road I travel
The things that would be easy
are not things that I choose
right or wrong
I’ve been down both those roads before
what appears easy and simple
is complexity and danger cloaked in disguuse
I could easily sneak away
my bed is empty at night
while he sleeps a floor beneath me
I could visit the store
not far from my house
on a day I’m alone
pay a visit
to the man who wants
to kiss my lips
but
I do not.
I sit at home
and write
I write of my passion
some days
until it feels
my fingertips
could bleed
I write
I think
I write some more
I try to shake the voices in my head
telling me how easy it would be
to find someone new
to share these passions with
I would love to travel
to sample a taste
of something
that feels
like a sunset
sounds like a symphony
looks like a life painting
that I could jump into
and call home.
yes…I have desires
and fantasies
just like anyone else
What I choose
is a more difficult road
maybe it’s not the right path
maybe it will wind up being a dead end.
for now it is the only path
I travel
it’s much harder
to sleep alone in a bed
meant to be shared
to spend nights cold and lonely
rather than in a lover’s arms
much more difficult
to rekindle a fire
that has long been extinguished
wouldn’t it be simpler to
throw a new log
on the fireplace
start a new blaze?
I have walked the path of least resistance also
many years ago
taken the easy way out
it was easy
falling
but not so easy
ending…
hurting…
and now from the past
I emerge
having learned
some important life lessons
slightly jaded
but still hopeful
and full of passion
with these lessons in mind
I painstakingly choose my path
wiser for having
traveled both roads
are not things that I choose
right or wrong
I’ve been down both those roads before
what appears easy and simple
is complexity and danger cloaked in disguuse
I could easily sneak away
my bed is empty at night
while he sleeps a floor beneath me
I could visit the store
not far from my house
on a day I’m alone
pay a visit
to the man who wants
to kiss my lips
but
I do not.
I sit at home
and write
I write of my passion
some days
until it feels
my fingertips
could bleed
I write
I think
I write some more
I try to shake the voices in my head
telling me how easy it would be
to find someone new
to share these passions with
I would love to travel
to sample a taste
of something
that feels
like a sunset
sounds like a symphony
looks like a life painting
that I could jump into
and call home.
yes…I have desires
and fantasies
just like anyone else
What I choose
is a more difficult road
maybe it’s not the right path
maybe it will wind up being a dead end.
for now it is the only path
I travel
it’s much harder
to sleep alone in a bed
meant to be shared
to spend nights cold and lonely
rather than in a lover’s arms
much more difficult
to rekindle a fire
that has long been extinguished
wouldn’t it be simpler to
throw a new log
on the fireplace
start a new blaze?
I have walked the path of least resistance also
many years ago
taken the easy way out
it was easy
falling
but not so easy
ending…
hurting…
and now from the past
I emerge
having learned
some important life lessons
slightly jaded
but still hopeful
and full of passion
with these lessons in mind
I painstakingly choose my path
wiser for having
traveled both roads
Seasaw
A seesaw of emotions
a blogging poet fool
a gypsy lost in twilight
consumed by dreams of you
A sonic boom explosion
a tale that must be told
a song without a melody
and riches without gold
a heart that’s full of memories
and pain that’s best untold
a life that’s in the balance
and survival mode still holds
a beauty lies within
a shelter from life’s storm
a hope in darkest moments
that keeps me safe and warm
another day is dawning
the sun rises through the mist
today I will begin anew…
a woman who must persist
a blogging poet fool
a gypsy lost in twilight
consumed by dreams of you
A sonic boom explosion
a tale that must be told
a song without a melody
and riches without gold
a heart that’s full of memories
and pain that’s best untold
a life that’s in the balance
and survival mode still holds
a beauty lies within
a shelter from life’s storm
a hope in darkest moments
that keeps me safe and warm
another day is dawning
the sun rises through the mist
today I will begin anew…
a woman who must persist
The Box
‘meet me in the box’
we used to say
you made me my very own
silver box
I pull our box down from the shelf
and peek inside..
printed e-mails
handwritten letters
cards
pictures
scraps of paper
toy airplane kits
pregnancy tests
shopping bag from the jewelry store,
all that remains of my aquamarine ring
your special present to me
before we were 'us'
the adventures of fender bender book
and his little tin
where he used to live
memories so distant
and yet so near
tears slip
remembering
reading
feeling
so much love
and passion
do we have a gift
as we spoke of so long ago
or are we just another
fatality
in this game
of life?
life was so much different then
I held onto fear
you kept drawing me closer,
and even in distance,
seperation
you
never gave up
i sat up past 3AM
writing on scraps of paper
‘100 reasons why i love you’
now
tucked safely inside the box
a distant memory..
12 cards on your birthday
each with clues
to lead you
to your ultimate present
one e-mail
forshadowing
something we never thought
would become our lives
'mercury rising'
the movie you watched
about an autistic boy
and you weren’t even sure
how to spell autistic
four years later we would find out
with our only son
our own special angel
now here i sit
sifting through
memories
wondering
if our box
will continue to grow
and fill with memories
or if this box
will be all that remains
of
us…
we used to say
you made me my very own
silver box
I pull our box down from the shelf
and peek inside..
printed e-mails
handwritten letters
cards
pictures
scraps of paper
toy airplane kits
pregnancy tests
shopping bag from the jewelry store,
all that remains of my aquamarine ring
your special present to me
before we were 'us'
the adventures of fender bender book
and his little tin
where he used to live
memories so distant
and yet so near
tears slip
remembering
reading
feeling
so much love
and passion
do we have a gift
as we spoke of so long ago
or are we just another
fatality
in this game
of life?
life was so much different then
I held onto fear
you kept drawing me closer,
and even in distance,
seperation
you
never gave up
i sat up past 3AM
writing on scraps of paper
‘100 reasons why i love you’
now
tucked safely inside the box
a distant memory..
12 cards on your birthday
each with clues
to lead you
to your ultimate present
one e-mail
forshadowing
something we never thought
would become our lives
'mercury rising'
the movie you watched
about an autistic boy
and you weren’t even sure
how to spell autistic
four years later we would find out
with our only son
our own special angel
now here i sit
sifting through
memories
wondering
if our box
will continue to grow
and fill with memories
or if this box
will be all that remains
of
us…
October's Skeletons
Author Notes:
There's a lot of hidden references in here...if you read deeply enough you should get it. Purging the demons. Confessional without telling all..
He was a double stop sign
11:11
East Coast/West Coast
Jim Morrison/James Dean
Rebel Without a Cause/Clue
Ker-o-wack/heart-attack
nomad/.hippie
smokin/tokin
high school drop-out
poet/fool
A Gerber-knife-wielding
'feed your baby/kill your baby'
thief of books/hearts
the only poet whose words left physical scars
~never let another poet get so close
(it will never happen
again...)
I hear he has
two published books of poems
Mommy and Daddy must be
so proud
they never saw
the scene that played out on their front lawn and sidewalk
that day
he was..
laughing in the wake of the storm~
Tori had the cadillac,
Fred's Seville..
I had a locked bedroom, without escape
gerber baby and you.
morrison and poetry couldn't save you that cold October day
from the monster that hid within
I haven't read your books
I already know your journal entries
skip October 15
since you told me
in no uncertain terms
Gerber-wielding-crazed-wild-eyed fuckface
the day never happened
it doesn't exist
erased from time
here's the lines from your favorite song
tweaked
just for you
(this is the only thing I'll ever write about you..
not FOR you,
it's for me)
tried to run
tried to hide
do you recall that day I cried?
no breaking through to the other side
that was the day a part of me died
There's a lot of hidden references in here...if you read deeply enough you should get it. Purging the demons. Confessional without telling all..
He was a double stop sign
11:11
East Coast/West Coast
Jim Morrison/James Dean
Rebel Without a Cause/Clue
Ker-o-wack/heart-attack
nomad/.hippie
smokin/tokin
high school drop-out
poet/fool
A Gerber-knife-wielding
'feed your baby/kill your baby'
thief of books/hearts
the only poet whose words left physical scars
~never let another poet get so close
(it will never happen
again...)
I hear he has
two published books of poems
Mommy and Daddy must be
so proud
they never saw
the scene that played out on their front lawn and sidewalk
that day
he was..
laughing in the wake of the storm~
Tori had the cadillac,
Fred's Seville..
I had a locked bedroom, without escape
gerber baby and you.
morrison and poetry couldn't save you that cold October day
from the monster that hid within
I haven't read your books
I already know your journal entries
skip October 15
since you told me
in no uncertain terms
Gerber-wielding-crazed-wild-eyed fuckface
the day never happened
it doesn't exist
erased from time
here's the lines from your favorite song
tweaked
just for you
(this is the only thing I'll ever write about you..
not FOR you,
it's for me)
tried to run
tried to hide
do you recall that day I cried?
no breaking through to the other side
that was the day a part of me died
Drama Club
Authors Notes:
We've all known someone like this..n'est pas?
Take center stage
throw words around
soliliquies of shame,self doubt
darkened lights cloud
room, night, eyes
from seeing sins of flesh
rip the stitches out deliberately
s l o w l y
painstakingly
knowing all the while
someone else will come along
sew you right back up
because you're center stage girl
troubled, beautiful ,deep
in shit.
bullshit that is
just another page in the book
no one will buy
the screenplay will flop
and you'll wind up desperately
trying a re-write.
history has infinite memory
and little patience~
final soliloquy
center stage
alone
wound ripped open once again
blood spilling on floor
masses gone
left alone with tears and guts spilling out
words inked in blood
forming a pool in which
you drown.
Act over.
We've all known someone like this..n'est pas?
Take center stage
throw words around
soliliquies of shame,self doubt
darkened lights cloud
room, night, eyes
from seeing sins of flesh
rip the stitches out deliberately
s l o w l y
painstakingly
knowing all the while
someone else will come along
sew you right back up
because you're center stage girl
troubled, beautiful ,deep
in shit.
bullshit that is
just another page in the book
no one will buy
the screenplay will flop
and you'll wind up desperately
trying a re-write.
history has infinite memory
and little patience~
final soliloquy
center stage
alone
wound ripped open once again
blood spilling on floor
masses gone
left alone with tears and guts spilling out
words inked in blood
forming a pool in which
you drown.
Act over.
Seasons of my Life January-April
Author Notes:
The beginning of a series I'm working on..looking at events that happened throughout my life by month. It's long, but tells a story.
January
January brings
a birthday,
the superbowl,
a wedding ~
followed by a car crash,
palpitations,
the beginning of mysterious symptoms
and countless hospital visits
a distant memory
of a snowy evening
sneaking out
and braving the snowy roads
for candlelight
and passionate kisses
and dreaming of big beds
and squeaky wooden floors
fireplaces to illuminate
and entrance
and songs played only for one
January...
long,cold days
made warmer by a lover's kiss
February
A cold and rainy February evening
waves of pain overtaking thought
it's time to leave the warm cocoon
the safety of home
venture into their sterile environment
and wait....
trepidation, primal fear
and suddenly a change
the threshold for pain pushed to the limit
and screams echo in the room
I CAN'T DO THIS!!!!
Squeezing a hand
breathing deeply through pain
digging deep
finding untapped strength
pushing with the pain
finally ~relief!
'It's a girl!' the Doctor shouts
I repeat his words
tears spilling down my cheeks
and a circle is made complete
I feel her presence from another realm
and softly she whispers to me~
now you know
just how much I loved you
as only a mother can love her daughter
peace and comfort wash over me
and I begin my journey as a mother
March
3:20 AM, 1976
I pushed my way into this world
my mother's most difficult birth
a stubborn Ram, even then
and so
my journey begins...
from newborn to 8 years
a normal childhood
two loving parents,
childhood pets
cupcakes brought to class
for birthdays
family gatherings for holidays
average middle class suburbia..
Then I turned 8.
For my 8th birthday I wanted
a nurse cake.
Dreams of becoming a dancer or teacher
dissipated quicker than her health.
I proudly told mommy,
"I'm going to be a nurse just like Miss Karen,
so I can take care of you too."
I tried my best,
sitting with her in the dark air conditioned bedroom
offering her water, cool washcloths, and pictures
I'd colored of rainbows and flowers.
Before I'd turn 9 I would give up the dream of
being a nurse..they couldn't save her,
neither could I.
She died on the first day of third grade,
somewhere between the pledge of allegiance
and recess.
I didn't cry, not until my dad offered me
that damn gold pen from the funeral home
it looked so fancy,
I figured it must do something amazing.
like write away the truth of the moment..
rewrite the plot, bring the main character
back from the dead?
I was so sure it did something, that I asked my dad.
My grandfather and him laughed at my question
and told me it did 'nothing'
That was the first time I remember crying.
After the funeral I did not attend
once back at school I wanted normalcy
above all else.
No one should talk about it,
no one should know about it..
I'm just a normal 8 year old,
in an extraordinary gifted 3rd grade class.
Who just happened to get pulled out
the first day of school because her mom died.
Keep smiling and they'll believe you're just like them.
Life was never the same after that...
the years blurred
9 years later I celebrate
more than a birthday
17 years old, nearly an adult
I am still weak from mono
but strong enough to get out of bed
leave the house, no longer home
see the world through a 1964 mustang
instead of a bedside view.
this is reason to celebrate
breathe in spring air
smelling it's freshness, innocence...
He came back to town
bringing flowers
in hopes of a kiss
a last ditch effort at 'I'm sorry..
for last October, not believing you,
all I put you through that day'
He forgot to apologize for leaving
without saying good-bye
leaving me waiting in pre-sunrise hours
to make the journey up to Boston
but never showing up.
In a years time he will be mostly forgotten.
365 days pass by once again
and I am embarking
taking flight
on what is to be one of the greatest
adventures of my life
headed overseas, to reunite
with my lover
whose sugar flows to my lips
as honey flows from my hips
my mystery man
who calls me, 'my me'
strums his guitar
singing me poems
in the darkness
songs only I will hear
in a strange English flat
as sirens ring out
warning of danger
and things yet to come
April
April, go Away
Ah April...
you bring new life
in purple hues
tiny flowers sprouting up
from the cold wet ground
defying nature
I walk the path
that will never be forgotten
counting footsteps
12 steps up
and 12 steps
d
o
w
n
and memories come flooding back--
a childhood home
now empty
countless days and nights
spent in these walls,
a bedroom full of memories-
of secrets that will remain untold...
nights of laughter
gasping for breath
as we shared our stories
standing here with her
more a sister than best friend,
part of my family-
we cry
embracing each other
and with words unspoken
understand the significance
of all of this
I cradle my newborn
as she nuzzles my breast
and think of my mother
sitting here in this rocker
nursing me, sustaining my life..
the last boxes are packed
big yellow truck in the driveway
nosy neighbor peeking out
just like always
not much has changed
except my parents
are moving
leaving me here
alone
we say goodbye to the house
that became our home
changed through the years
as they tried to erase the memory
of my mother
too painful for them
but the memories remain
tucked away in our hearts
that will never change..
A year ago I was overseas
and returned to another empty house
it doesn't feel like home
although now there is a family there
mother
father
daughter
but there is something missing
something that will never surface,
it's just a house..
a distant memory now
from the past
but my home, and my heart
still reside on Chestnut St.
and by the pond-
my place of solitude
and more memories unfold..
April...
I've blocked you out
Not wanting to remember the more recent past
for it was you
who brought the beginning
of this painful journey
that I am still stuck on
wheels spinning
going nowhere
you gave me the first glimpse
of what life was to become
a labrynth of phone calls,
fighting with insurance companies,
learning terminology--
learning there are too many
who share this road,
too many lost in this maze..
too many pieces
that just don't fit.
I don't like you April...
you took away my family
and forced me to confront
my deepest darkest fears
Hurry away now...
bring us May and her flowers,
we've had enough of you and
your drenching shower of sorrow
The beginning of a series I'm working on..looking at events that happened throughout my life by month. It's long, but tells a story.
January
January brings
a birthday,
the superbowl,
a wedding ~
followed by a car crash,
palpitations,
the beginning of mysterious symptoms
and countless hospital visits
a distant memory
of a snowy evening
sneaking out
and braving the snowy roads
for candlelight
and passionate kisses
and dreaming of big beds
and squeaky wooden floors
fireplaces to illuminate
and entrance
and songs played only for one
January...
long,cold days
made warmer by a lover's kiss
February
A cold and rainy February evening
waves of pain overtaking thought
it's time to leave the warm cocoon
the safety of home
venture into their sterile environment
and wait....
trepidation, primal fear
and suddenly a change
the threshold for pain pushed to the limit
and screams echo in the room
I CAN'T DO THIS!!!!
Squeezing a hand
breathing deeply through pain
digging deep
finding untapped strength
pushing with the pain
finally ~relief!
'It's a girl!' the Doctor shouts
I repeat his words
tears spilling down my cheeks
and a circle is made complete
I feel her presence from another realm
and softly she whispers to me~
now you know
just how much I loved you
as only a mother can love her daughter
peace and comfort wash over me
and I begin my journey as a mother
March
3:20 AM, 1976
I pushed my way into this world
my mother's most difficult birth
a stubborn Ram, even then
and so
my journey begins...
from newborn to 8 years
a normal childhood
two loving parents,
childhood pets
cupcakes brought to class
for birthdays
family gatherings for holidays
average middle class suburbia..
Then I turned 8.
For my 8th birthday I wanted
a nurse cake.
Dreams of becoming a dancer or teacher
dissipated quicker than her health.
I proudly told mommy,
"I'm going to be a nurse just like Miss Karen,
so I can take care of you too."
I tried my best,
sitting with her in the dark air conditioned bedroom
offering her water, cool washcloths, and pictures
I'd colored of rainbows and flowers.
Before I'd turn 9 I would give up the dream of
being a nurse..they couldn't save her,
neither could I.
She died on the first day of third grade,
somewhere between the pledge of allegiance
and recess.
I didn't cry, not until my dad offered me
that damn gold pen from the funeral home
it looked so fancy,
I figured it must do something amazing.
like write away the truth of the moment..
rewrite the plot, bring the main character
back from the dead?
I was so sure it did something, that I asked my dad.
My grandfather and him laughed at my question
and told me it did 'nothing'
That was the first time I remember crying.
After the funeral I did not attend
once back at school I wanted normalcy
above all else.
No one should talk about it,
no one should know about it..
I'm just a normal 8 year old,
in an extraordinary gifted 3rd grade class.
Who just happened to get pulled out
the first day of school because her mom died.
Keep smiling and they'll believe you're just like them.
Life was never the same after that...
the years blurred
9 years later I celebrate
more than a birthday
17 years old, nearly an adult
I am still weak from mono
but strong enough to get out of bed
leave the house, no longer home
see the world through a 1964 mustang
instead of a bedside view.
this is reason to celebrate
breathe in spring air
smelling it's freshness, innocence...
He came back to town
bringing flowers
in hopes of a kiss
a last ditch effort at 'I'm sorry..
for last October, not believing you,
all I put you through that day'
He forgot to apologize for leaving
without saying good-bye
leaving me waiting in pre-sunrise hours
to make the journey up to Boston
but never showing up.
In a years time he will be mostly forgotten.
365 days pass by once again
and I am embarking
taking flight
on what is to be one of the greatest
adventures of my life
headed overseas, to reunite
with my lover
whose sugar flows to my lips
as honey flows from my hips
my mystery man
who calls me, 'my me'
strums his guitar
singing me poems
in the darkness
songs only I will hear
in a strange English flat
as sirens ring out
warning of danger
and things yet to come
April
April, go Away
Ah April...
you bring new life
in purple hues
tiny flowers sprouting up
from the cold wet ground
defying nature
I walk the path
that will never be forgotten
counting footsteps
12 steps up
and 12 steps
d
o
w
n
and memories come flooding back--
a childhood home
now empty
countless days and nights
spent in these walls,
a bedroom full of memories-
of secrets that will remain untold...
nights of laughter
gasping for breath
as we shared our stories
standing here with her
more a sister than best friend,
part of my family-
we cry
embracing each other
and with words unspoken
understand the significance
of all of this
I cradle my newborn
as she nuzzles my breast
and think of my mother
sitting here in this rocker
nursing me, sustaining my life..
the last boxes are packed
big yellow truck in the driveway
nosy neighbor peeking out
just like always
not much has changed
except my parents
are moving
leaving me here
alone
we say goodbye to the house
that became our home
changed through the years
as they tried to erase the memory
of my mother
too painful for them
but the memories remain
tucked away in our hearts
that will never change..
A year ago I was overseas
and returned to another empty house
it doesn't feel like home
although now there is a family there
mother
father
daughter
but there is something missing
something that will never surface,
it's just a house..
a distant memory now
from the past
but my home, and my heart
still reside on Chestnut St.
and by the pond-
my place of solitude
and more memories unfold..
April...
I've blocked you out
Not wanting to remember the more recent past
for it was you
who brought the beginning
of this painful journey
that I am still stuck on
wheels spinning
going nowhere
you gave me the first glimpse
of what life was to become
a labrynth of phone calls,
fighting with insurance companies,
learning terminology--
learning there are too many
who share this road,
too many lost in this maze..
too many pieces
that just don't fit.
I don't like you April...
you took away my family
and forced me to confront
my deepest darkest fears
Hurry away now...
bring us May and her flowers,
we've had enough of you and
your drenching shower of sorrow
The Garden
was ripe with promise, possibility
as you carefully placed seedlings into soil
making sure there was just enough space
between each to allow the chance to grow.
Your long hours of nurturing paid off
in early spring when the first blossoms began to show.
By summer you had a dazzling plot
of brilliant colors, tiny petal-faces
beaming up at the sun.
The first few years you tenderly
cared for your garden,
spending hours weeding out unwanted invaders,
cutting back to give shape, pruning to rejuvenate..
you were filled with pride and love
gazing upon the fruit of your labor.
Then the storms came blowing through
and in a hasty effort to retreat from the relentless
pounding of rain beating down upon your back
you rushed out of the garden,
trampling your most beautiful flower.
The flower was strong enough to survive the storm
it endured the harsh winds and rain..
now it rests with hopeful petal-face
against the dirt waiting for you
to come back, stand it upright
pack fresh soil around it,
keep it propped up straight,
until it's strong enough to stand alone,
once again vibrant, radiating life.
directly due south the sun is blazing brightly,
air filled with the smell of fresh manure & compost
stakes laid out & perimeter secured
a new Eden planned
while petal-face slowly whithers away
in soil drenched by tears.
Nutrients of Life
Nurturing is what I do best
maternal instincts
somehow survived
mother-less-ness
just tell me which
nutrient you need
today
I'll be the sugar in your carbs
your mono-sacch-a-rine
sweetness in your veins
drip by sticky drip
flowing from
honey britches
I'll be your protein
sustaining life with my
warm milky breasts
I can water you with
tears of love & gratitude
hoping to reach your roots
that they may drink me in
but I can't nurture
substantiate
supply
if not given the chance
& nurturing is a two way street
my dear fair-weather love
if I am left aimlessly
wandering
with aching mouth
hunger in my belly
how do you expect me to
turn around and
satitate your every need?
maternal instincts
somehow survived
mother-less-ness
just tell me which
nutrient you need
today
I'll be the sugar in your carbs
your mono-sacch-a-rine
sweetness in your veins
drip by sticky drip
flowing from
honey britches
I'll be your protein
sustaining life with my
warm milky breasts
I can water you with
tears of love & gratitude
hoping to reach your roots
that they may drink me in
but I can't nurture
substantiate
supply
if not given the chance
& nurturing is a two way street
my dear fair-weather love
if I am left aimlessly
wandering
with aching mouth
hunger in my belly
how do you expect me to
turn around and
satitate your every need?
Writing to the darkness (A letter)
I'm unsure of how to begin, what to say. I only know I have this urgent need to write to you. I've been sitting here trying to figure out what exactly it is that I want to say to you and I'm drawing a complete blank. What is there to say that will make any sense of what has happened? No words of mine can change this course of events, I cannot take away this pain you're going through. Words at this point are completely useless, yet, that is all I have to offer.
Alone in this moment there is no greater torture than knowing I have been the cause of your pain. I hate the realization that there is nothing to be done. No amount of wishing, nor actions, nor words will make things better. If time would allow, one moment, just one, I would hold you close to my heart and you would understand. Ear pressed against breast you would hear what I've been trying to tell you all along, this is no way to live and yet it is the only way to live. You would finally hear the echo of my footsteps, reluctant, walking away against my will.
I know your heart better than my own, empathy and intuition have given me full access to the fear and doubt that resides within. Why do you doubt what is certain, what has been written? A certainty such as this comes but once in a lifetime, you cannot alter destiny. I have seen you through many battles, many ages, and am completely devoted, inexplicably so, perhaps foolishly so. I have faith and believe in you, I love you with a depth you will never find elsewhere.
You will search, you will look in books, perusing every word, studying each exclamation mark, striving to understand the language. You will look in paintings, desperately seeking what lies beneath the layers of paint,searching for the brush stroke where beauty originated, only to find pain. You will listen intently to every whisper, in darkened corner booths, surreptitiously glancing around the room in hopes of yesterday making an impromptu appearance. You will clearly hear every groan of protest drawn from tired,musty beds, searching for an answer. You will deeply inhale the fragrant night, speeding along desolate countryside never glancing out the window to see where home lies, too busy adjusting to unaccommodating virgin leather seats.
You will look to the moon, with it's bald eye, for wisdom. You will glimpse a shooting star and believe you have found truth but will cry out as you realize it was only dust slipping through the sky, through your outstretched hands.
Your mouth taught me to fly, your words, crystallized like honey stung my lips with the weight of truth. Your body taught me to cry, choruses silently sung in unison,striking that elusive chord over and over begging for forgiveness, finally crying out against the oppressive reign 'hallelujah'.
There is no end, as there is no beginning, there is only this moment.
Always,
Self
Alone in this moment there is no greater torture than knowing I have been the cause of your pain. I hate the realization that there is nothing to be done. No amount of wishing, nor actions, nor words will make things better. If time would allow, one moment, just one, I would hold you close to my heart and you would understand. Ear pressed against breast you would hear what I've been trying to tell you all along, this is no way to live and yet it is the only way to live. You would finally hear the echo of my footsteps, reluctant, walking away against my will.
I know your heart better than my own, empathy and intuition have given me full access to the fear and doubt that resides within. Why do you doubt what is certain, what has been written? A certainty such as this comes but once in a lifetime, you cannot alter destiny. I have seen you through many battles, many ages, and am completely devoted, inexplicably so, perhaps foolishly so. I have faith and believe in you, I love you with a depth you will never find elsewhere.
You will search, you will look in books, perusing every word, studying each exclamation mark, striving to understand the language. You will look in paintings, desperately seeking what lies beneath the layers of paint,searching for the brush stroke where beauty originated, only to find pain. You will listen intently to every whisper, in darkened corner booths, surreptitiously glancing around the room in hopes of yesterday making an impromptu appearance. You will clearly hear every groan of protest drawn from tired,musty beds, searching for an answer. You will deeply inhale the fragrant night, speeding along desolate countryside never glancing out the window to see where home lies, too busy adjusting to unaccommodating virgin leather seats.
You will look to the moon, with it's bald eye, for wisdom. You will glimpse a shooting star and believe you have found truth but will cry out as you realize it was only dust slipping through the sky, through your outstretched hands.
Your mouth taught me to fly, your words, crystallized like honey stung my lips with the weight of truth. Your body taught me to cry, choruses silently sung in unison,striking that elusive chord over and over begging for forgiveness, finally crying out against the oppressive reign 'hallelujah'.
There is no end, as there is no beginning, there is only this moment.
Always,
Self
Falsely Accused
What could I have done differently?
should be phrased
Could I have done anything differently?
and the answer should be
a distinctly loud
and
resounding
NO.
Instead I rack my brain
for answers
that just
aren't
there.
I will never know
the reason
why..
In my heart
I know
there was
nothing
I did wrong..
that
it wasn't
and isn't
my
fault.
My mind
however
feels a need
to
overanalyze,
place blame
with
someone.
Who better
than myself?
No one else
wants to
step up to
the plate
and admit
or acknowledge
they too
may have
played a
part
in the
1 in 150
innocent
lives
left
in
daily
crisis
no one
wants to
see
the
families torn
apart
no one wants
to hear
the
pain
that has
no sound,
no
voice.
I'll take
part
of the
blame
for my
One
in
150.
At least
that way
there is
someone
to
blame
even
if
falsely
accused
should be phrased
Could I have done anything differently?
and the answer should be
a distinctly loud
and
resounding
NO.
Instead I rack my brain
for answers
that just
aren't
there.
I will never know
the reason
why..
In my heart
I know
there was
nothing
I did wrong..
that
it wasn't
and isn't
my
fault.
My mind
however
feels a need
to
overanalyze,
place blame
with
someone.
Who better
than myself?
No one else
wants to
step up to
the plate
and admit
or acknowledge
they too
may have
played a
part
in the
1 in 150
innocent
lives
left
in
daily
crisis
no one
wants to
see
the
families torn
apart
no one wants
to hear
the
pain
that has
no sound,
no
voice.
I'll take
part
of the
blame
for my
One
in
150.
At least
that way
there is
someone
to
blame
even
if
falsely
accused
Poised
My mind reels
open to the thought of possibilty
careening forward
down slippery slopes
across deep ravines
around complex bends
before applying the brakes
causing head-on-collision
Crash! Bam!
Settling with dust on solid ground
I have stopped.
Mind and body not in sync..
My body
remains poised
gracefully
one foot extended
pointed
lingering at precipice
questioning, faltering, unsure
whether
to l e a p , free falling
or retreat staggering
overwhelmed by vertigo
back to solitude & safety.
Back into myself.
open to the thought of possibilty
careening forward
down slippery slopes
across deep ravines
around complex bends
before applying the brakes
causing head-on-collision
Crash! Bam!
Settling with dust on solid ground
I have stopped.
Mind and body not in sync..
My body
remains poised
gracefully
one foot extended
pointed
lingering at precipice
questioning, faltering, unsure
whether
to l e a p , free falling
or retreat staggering
overwhelmed by vertigo
back to solitude & safety.
Back into myself.
Getting loopy on Nyquil
Author Notes:
Pretty much what the title says...the result of being sick and on Nyquil..nonsense writing!
Cry like you mean it
Silent tears
Just don't cut it
Tear away from
Solitude
Blood roses
Sent too late
Sobbing wreck
She's no quitter
Graves for sinners
Even angels shed their wings
Back on the street
All the faces gray
Kaliedescope dreams
Swirl like cotton candy
Sugar dissolves in mouth
Suck it deep within
Scent your taste
With rose petaled skin
Fires burn
And ashes fall
Blistering pavement
Beneath her feet
Run faster
Faster
Faster
Still
Mind over matter
Shake it up in side your head
Shake it off
just..
Let go
Titantic water envelops soul
Drowning in pool of madness
Despair sets in
Past the point of dis-repair
Last breath gasped
as
Tears
drown
Pretty much what the title says...the result of being sick and on Nyquil..nonsense writing!
Cry like you mean it
Silent tears
Just don't cut it
Tear away from
Solitude
Blood roses
Sent too late
Sobbing wreck
She's no quitter
Graves for sinners
Even angels shed their wings
Back on the street
All the faces gray
Kaliedescope dreams
Swirl like cotton candy
Sugar dissolves in mouth
Suck it deep within
Scent your taste
With rose petaled skin
Fires burn
And ashes fall
Blistering pavement
Beneath her feet
Run faster
Faster
Faster
Still
Mind over matter
Shake it up in side your head
Shake it off
just..
Let go
Titantic water envelops soul
Drowning in pool of madness
Despair sets in
Past the point of dis-repair
Last breath gasped
as
Tears
drown
Coming full circle (retitled)
I try to make my mouth
form the words you need
but I'm frozen
what is left to say?
Cannot say 'I love you'
that requires active voice
we've been passive for so long now
crows have circled, fed, moved across the pond
Cannot say 'I'm sorry'
not to you at least,
only have my Self to apologize to
for believing fables spun
around, over my head,
planted seeds
deep inside my heart
germinated on windowsill
bathed in sunlight
then dumped out into new soil
Cannot say 'I forgive you'
for being so clever
using innocence
anointing your head
kneeling at your altar
self-made God~
Rockets flew past our window
charred earth left
where we lay clinging
to promises spoken
ambiguous as your Love
You,who knew this love
would keep me up at night
searching the horizon for a
glimpse of your shadow
You, who knew my belly would swell
anticipating your faithful promise
of return, reunion,lifetimes
You, who knew I would bleed
when you terminated this life
we shared
sloughing off dead cells
un-needed,unwanted baby
of Self
inner child aborted
left me with frozen embryos
sobbing on floor
curled back into fetus
finally the words form..
'I forgive..
You, Me, Us'
Through salty tears
oceans of regret wash away
I emerge head first
feet planted firmly
on new ground
a lusty cry swells from deep within
primal scream echoes off walls
claiming my birthright~
I choose Life.
form the words you need
but I'm frozen
what is left to say?
Cannot say 'I love you'
that requires active voice
we've been passive for so long now
crows have circled, fed, moved across the pond
Cannot say 'I'm sorry'
not to you at least,
only have my Self to apologize to
for believing fables spun
around, over my head,
planted seeds
deep inside my heart
germinated on windowsill
bathed in sunlight
then dumped out into new soil
Cannot say 'I forgive you'
for being so clever
using innocence
anointing your head
kneeling at your altar
self-made God~
Rockets flew past our window
charred earth left
where we lay clinging
to promises spoken
ambiguous as your Love
You,who knew this love
would keep me up at night
searching the horizon for a
glimpse of your shadow
You, who knew my belly would swell
anticipating your faithful promise
of return, reunion,lifetimes
You, who knew I would bleed
when you terminated this life
we shared
sloughing off dead cells
un-needed,unwanted baby
of Self
inner child aborted
left me with frozen embryos
sobbing on floor
curled back into fetus
finally the words form..
'I forgive..
You, Me, Us'
Through salty tears
oceans of regret wash away
I emerge head first
feet planted firmly
on new ground
a lusty cry swells from deep within
primal scream echoes off walls
claiming my birthright~
I choose Life.
Living Life
if at the end
words remain unwritten
stars will not fall from the sky
rain will shatter silence
gentle reminder of life
spent living
cool wet drops
grow oppressive
cottonfusedtoskin
relish poetry on lips,
passionate promises
finally fulfilled
thouroughly devour
the aroma,
sable soil
once parched
now ready for
seed
volumes remain
e m p t y
pens remain full
prolific an ancient definition
but...
it will not matter,
for...
the meadow shall have
bare spots
grass worn away
from dancing barefoot
the wooden floor
will have deep grooves
from hours spent
rocking, gazing
off porch at the horizon
as sunrises and sets
the feet will be calloused
the back will ache,
the shoulders remain strong
carrying the weight
of those who could not
bear the load alone
strength and grace
patience..
outlasting all
~unbroken~
hair will always reflect setting sun
~unharnessed~
eyes will always reflect stormy sea
chasing away all grey
with a kiss and a smile
~unwritten~
~undefined~
living life fully
one day at a time
words remain unwritten
stars will not fall from the sky
rain will shatter silence
gentle reminder of life
spent living
cool wet drops
grow oppressive
cottonfusedtoskin
relish poetry on lips,
passionate promises
finally fulfilled
thouroughly devour
the aroma,
sable soil
once parched
now ready for
seed
volumes remain
e m p t y
pens remain full
prolific an ancient definition
but...
it will not matter,
for...
the meadow shall have
bare spots
grass worn away
from dancing barefoot
the wooden floor
will have deep grooves
from hours spent
rocking, gazing
off porch at the horizon
as sunrises and sets
the feet will be calloused
the back will ache,
the shoulders remain strong
carrying the weight
of those who could not
bear the load alone
strength and grace
patience..
outlasting all
~unbroken~
hair will always reflect setting sun
~unharnessed~
eyes will always reflect stormy sea
chasing away all grey
with a kiss and a smile
~unwritten~
~undefined~
living life fully
one day at a time
Collision Imminent
Tonight, I see you
clearly,
in spite of the crescent moon
your hand pressed firmly
to the small of my back
leading me away
from this place
thumb tracing my jawline
seconds before your hands are in my hair
face upturned
lips finally meeting mine
parting for a moment
stunned,
finding
I am transfixed
to your eyes.
mouth opens
as your tongue
seeks to etch memory
in every pore of
my body-
vulnerable, open
eyes full of oceans
and you a wave~
softly caressing my shores
ebb and flow
soft and slow,
we hold tightly
rocking gently
riding the night
daring stars
to burn as bright
no ghosts of past
walking through the mist
tonight
present, future
planets un-discovered
stars un-covered
unseen, neglected
by careless former
lovers
gazing into darkness
unable to see through cover of clouds
tonight, we two,
burning brighter
towards future generations
of love and light
music fills this empty space
transfixes us
keeps our pace
cellos fade
we're approaching the bridge
modulate, wait for me
coming, only a beat behind
acoustic guitar becomes amplified
driving
faster
raw
hardcore
my eyes never falter
only bore deeper
into center of being
you're locked in my sights now
hips rocking
finding rhythm mesmerizing
hypnotizing
nails find flesh
mouth covers body
smothering screams
and words no one would expect to hear
coming from my mouth
no longer in control
crying out
'fuck me'
'nail me to the ground'
river rocks
heated by fire
strategically placed
on thighs
encouraging torrent
of lava
as ice melts between
mountains
dripping
s l o w l y
due south
lava meets
salt of ocean
in frenzied anticipation
steam rises
and the moon howls
her approval
as stars explode
in waves of bliss.
this, my love
is the epilogue
soliloquy complete
clearly,
in spite of the crescent moon
your hand pressed firmly
to the small of my back
leading me away
from this place
thumb tracing my jawline
seconds before your hands are in my hair
face upturned
lips finally meeting mine
parting for a moment
stunned,
finding
I am transfixed
to your eyes.
mouth opens
as your tongue
seeks to etch memory
in every pore of
my body-
vulnerable, open
eyes full of oceans
and you a wave~
softly caressing my shores
ebb and flow
soft and slow,
we hold tightly
rocking gently
riding the night
daring stars
to burn as bright
no ghosts of past
walking through the mist
tonight
present, future
planets un-discovered
stars un-covered
unseen, neglected
by careless former
lovers
gazing into darkness
unable to see through cover of clouds
tonight, we two,
burning brighter
towards future generations
of love and light
music fills this empty space
transfixes us
keeps our pace
cellos fade
we're approaching the bridge
modulate, wait for me
coming, only a beat behind
acoustic guitar becomes amplified
driving
faster
raw
hardcore
my eyes never falter
only bore deeper
into center of being
you're locked in my sights now
hips rocking
finding rhythm mesmerizing
hypnotizing
nails find flesh
mouth covers body
smothering screams
and words no one would expect to hear
coming from my mouth
no longer in control
crying out
'fuck me'
'nail me to the ground'
river rocks
heated by fire
strategically placed
on thighs
encouraging torrent
of lava
as ice melts between
mountains
dripping
s l o w l y
due south
lava meets
salt of ocean
in frenzied anticipation
steam rises
and the moon howls
her approval
as stars explode
in waves of bliss.
this, my love
is the epilogue
soliloquy complete
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Indian Corn
Author Notes:
Old poem that one day I hope to turn into a song...
Old poem that one day I hope to turn into a song...
On the curvy backroad streets
the paths we used to share,
your smile is so sweet
and you can take me anywhere.
Headed into the sun
our day has just begun
and I’ve got the time (baby)
if you think you may care
Indian corn and kisses so sweet
walking hand in hand
the many smiles we shared that day
and things that were never planned
Autumn air and houseplants
for whose house I don’t know
planting the seeds that we knew in time
would only continue to grow
Driving on these roads again
I’d know them anywhere
these streets have got your name on them
and the wind blows through my hair
Somehow we’ll find the answers
in this glass we’re looking through
the mirror tells a story
the picture I paint is of you
And someday’s not so far away
when it comes to me and you
cause we’ve got a lifetime (baby)
to see this crazy love through
And I tell myself we’ll find some way
to make it to the end
cause you and I we have a tie
that time can never end.
the paths we used to share,
your smile is so sweet
and you can take me anywhere.
Headed into the sun
our day has just begun
and I’ve got the time (baby)
if you think you may care
Indian corn and kisses so sweet
walking hand in hand
the many smiles we shared that day
and things that were never planned
Autumn air and houseplants
for whose house I don’t know
planting the seeds that we knew in time
would only continue to grow
Driving on these roads again
I’d know them anywhere
these streets have got your name on them
and the wind blows through my hair
Somehow we’ll find the answers
in this glass we’re looking through
the mirror tells a story
the picture I paint is of you
And someday’s not so far away
when it comes to me and you
cause we’ve got a lifetime (baby)
to see this crazy love through
And I tell myself we’ll find some way
to make it to the end
cause you and I we have a tie
that time can never end.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Shit on the Floor~For Representative Barton
Author Notes:
This was just an angry rant directed at Rep. Joe Barton when he was stalling on the Combating Autism Act. It's old news now and I don't usually do much with politics, but this smelled so rotten I had to blow off some steam.
We really don’t care if you think we’re crazy-gp ahead and call us extreme because the reality is just the same. Though you may wear a suit and tie and I wear jeans streaked with whatever the shit du-jour happens to be I guarantee if you were me, if you were walking in MY shoes through my barricaded house-if it were your son or daughter, sister or brother-you’d be a little fucking crazy and pissed at the asshole you’ve become Mr. Representative.
Tell me again who and what exactly are you representing? ‘Mike’ was more polite than I would have been..all he asked was to see you and was told there was no more room in the meeting behind closed doors..the door couldn’t even be opened so he could stand in the doorway..no room at the inn. I have a feeling the smell of shit would have knocked him out anyway.(watch him here….http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aa2-bFlASpo) Had it been me I would have organized a bunch of us ‘crazies’ with all of our autistic kids in tow and let them loose right there in your office. Let them run around laughing, jumping, climbing, screaming..let them bang their heads on that door and demand you hear THEM. Let them shit on your desk, in the middle of the floor, paint you a masterpiece on your walls-just so you don’t forget what we REALLY think of you.Fact is your shit is the same as theirs, and yes, we smell it on the FLOOR.
But that’s just my craziness talking…don’t worry I only let it out to play on paper. I’ll play nice..write my letters, make my phone calls, post my bulletins, send my e-mails. I’ll stop and think and think and think and realize that maybe our kids with autism have a gift, to not see as clearly the fucked up world in which they live-to not see the people who should be representing and fighting for them stabbing them in the back, saying they just aren’t important enough. Maybe tonight I’ll join his world and free myself at least until tomorrow when I wake up and FIGHT for his rights against narrow minded people like you who twist the truth and words to fit your needs.
It's sickening how little is being done. Autism stats are up to 1 in 150. For boys the number rises to 1 in 94. Every 20 minutes a child is diagnosed with Autism. More children will be diagnosed with Autism this year than AIDS, Diabetes, and Cancer
combined, yet public research funding for the disorder totals less than 5 percent of that for leukemia,
juvenile diabetes, and muscular dystrophy.
This was just an angry rant directed at Rep. Joe Barton when he was stalling on the Combating Autism Act. It's old news now and I don't usually do much with politics, but this smelled so rotten I had to blow off some steam.
We really don’t care if you think we’re crazy-gp ahead and call us extreme because the reality is just the same. Though you may wear a suit and tie and I wear jeans streaked with whatever the shit du-jour happens to be I guarantee if you were me, if you were walking in MY shoes through my barricaded house-if it were your son or daughter, sister or brother-you’d be a little fucking crazy and pissed at the asshole you’ve become Mr. Representative.
Tell me again who and what exactly are you representing? ‘Mike’ was more polite than I would have been..all he asked was to see you and was told there was no more room in the meeting behind closed doors..the door couldn’t even be opened so he could stand in the doorway..no room at the inn. I have a feeling the smell of shit would have knocked him out anyway.(watch him here….http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aa2-bFlASpo) Had it been me I would have organized a bunch of us ‘crazies’ with all of our autistic kids in tow and let them loose right there in your office. Let them run around laughing, jumping, climbing, screaming..let them bang their heads on that door and demand you hear THEM. Let them shit on your desk, in the middle of the floor, paint you a masterpiece on your walls-just so you don’t forget what we REALLY think of you.Fact is your shit is the same as theirs, and yes, we smell it on the FLOOR.
But that’s just my craziness talking…don’t worry I only let it out to play on paper. I’ll play nice..write my letters, make my phone calls, post my bulletins, send my e-mails. I’ll stop and think and think and think and realize that maybe our kids with autism have a gift, to not see as clearly the fucked up world in which they live-to not see the people who should be representing and fighting for them stabbing them in the back, saying they just aren’t important enough. Maybe tonight I’ll join his world and free myself at least until tomorrow when I wake up and FIGHT for his rights against narrow minded people like you who twist the truth and words to fit your needs.
It's sickening how little is being done. Autism stats are up to 1 in 150. For boys the number rises to 1 in 94. Every 20 minutes a child is diagnosed with Autism. More children will be diagnosed with Autism this year than AIDS, Diabetes, and Cancer
combined, yet public research funding for the disorder totals less than 5 percent of that for leukemia,
juvenile diabetes, and muscular dystrophy.
4 Maples, 5 Stars and a river road (aka, When the music fades away)
Author Notes:
In the middle of writing this everything changed. It took on a different path, which is not yet complete...not sure of the ending yet.
I don't expect you
to never want to play again.
That would be like asking
DaVinci to never paint another masterpiece.
The hands of a music man
need to play
daily.
I understand the music we made
was your greatest composition
I was your symphony
But somewhere along the way
the music stopped
you stopped playing
I stopped singing.
Strings snapped
you blew your stack.
The critics were silent
it was your fear
that left you paralyzed,
kept you from playing.
I stopped singing
when it was clear
my voice would never be heard.
Love apologized for the deafening silence,
took a quick bow
and silently walked off the stage.
There was no final farewell concert,
no goodbyes
it just became clear
to me
that I was a fool
Standing in the spotlight
with no accompaniment
If your voice is strong enough
you can do a'capella
but I needed the strumming
to produce those high pitched notes,
to keep the beat.
You went back to your old gig
while I tried to find my place
once again.
Eventually I decided to move on
to a different stage.
Instead of being in the spotlight
singing anthems
I sat quietly rocking,
humming lullabies.
To the outsider,
the music was gone.
You and I knew differently,
that it would never completely fade away.
In the middle of writing this everything changed. It took on a different path, which is not yet complete...not sure of the ending yet.
I don't expect you
to never want to play again.
That would be like asking
DaVinci to never paint another masterpiece.
The hands of a music man
need to play
daily.
I understand the music we made
was your greatest composition
I was your symphony
But somewhere along the way
the music stopped
you stopped playing
I stopped singing.
Strings snapped
you blew your stack.
The critics were silent
it was your fear
that left you paralyzed,
kept you from playing.
I stopped singing
when it was clear
my voice would never be heard.
Love apologized for the deafening silence,
took a quick bow
and silently walked off the stage.
There was no final farewell concert,
no goodbyes
it just became clear
to me
that I was a fool
Standing in the spotlight
with no accompaniment
If your voice is strong enough
you can do a'capella
but I needed the strumming
to produce those high pitched notes,
to keep the beat.
You went back to your old gig
while I tried to find my place
once again.
Eventually I decided to move on
to a different stage.
Instead of being in the spotlight
singing anthems
I sat quietly rocking,
humming lullabies.
To the outsider,
the music was gone.
You and I knew differently,
that it would never completely fade away.
Squandered
I was working through some unresolved anger...
The memories
are not the worst
far more painful
the unknown
a decade passed
years to ache
mourn
lust
hate
resent
and then
stop.
I stopped hating
blaming
resenting
feeling
remembering…
until one day
we spoke.
peculiar circumstances
pretense of civility.
everything came crashing back
onto me
hitting me again
and again
amplilfied
reverberating
round and round my brain.
I suddenly realized
I had a lot to say
unfinished business
we exchanged mindless banter
words masking words
not ready to be penned.
and then
anger~
a conversation
about the past
your memory
completely clouded
from the time
you spent
self medicating
denial denial denial
your favorite word
you were never to blame
the lucky one
getting off
al-ways
you told me
no harm
meant by those words
though you should know
by now
all words
carry
pain
suddenly
i had a need
to make you remember
to understand
to pick your brain
for clues
to know beauty
and youth
were not squandered away
a phone call arranged
i hung up
no clearer
static
through the lines
again
some things transmitted
crystal clear
your memory served well
to recall
the way i looked
with my hips in your hands
the way I’d dine
and devour
your culinary masterpiece
years in the making
waiting
for someone hungry enough
to feast
a dish best served
warm
while on
one’s knees.
left unspoken
the indian corn
‘loverman’
who once was mine
no memory
of the one
who gave
and gave
and
cleaned up
warmed up
held up
while you dt’ed
and fell again
and again
exchanging one high
for another
no…
you got off again
asshole
no memories
of pain
i guarantee the fine
you’ll pay
far cheaper
than the memories
left behind
Angel in Waiting
Author Notes:
Nothing earth shattering here..If you're looking for the good poetry, keep scrolling..this was a feeble attempt at something lyrical. Personally, I don't like it too much, but a friend said it would be easy to compose on and to save it. So..here it is.
I see you from my knees
wishing I could be,
the one that you call angel,
the only one you need.
I'm not the girl who captured your heart,
I'm just the girl who drives you wild.
Maybe one of these nights you'll look down and see,
that all along it should have been me.
Too tired to care
too tired to try
too tired to love
too tired to cry
I look over and wish you'd see
just how much you mean to me.
You were the one who captured my heart,
and you're still the one who drives me wild.
I'm your angel in waiting
can't you see
waiting for you to come to me
you'll never know how much I care
cause you never look down to see me there..
Too tired to care
too tired to try
too tired to love
too tired to cry
waiting...your angel is waiting
waiting and wanting
wishing and hoping
that you'll come back to me...
Nothing earth shattering here..If you're looking for the good poetry, keep scrolling..this was a feeble attempt at something lyrical. Personally, I don't like it too much, but a friend said it would be easy to compose on and to save it. So..here it is.
I see you from my knees
wishing I could be,
the one that you call angel,
the only one you need.
I'm not the girl who captured your heart,
I'm just the girl who drives you wild.
Maybe one of these nights you'll look down and see,
that all along it should have been me.
Too tired to care
too tired to try
too tired to love
too tired to cry
I look over and wish you'd see
just how much you mean to me.
You were the one who captured my heart,
and you're still the one who drives me wild.
I'm your angel in waiting
can't you see
waiting for you to come to me
you'll never know how much I care
cause you never look down to see me there..
Too tired to care
too tired to try
too tired to love
too tired to cry
waiting...your angel is waiting
waiting and wanting
wishing and hoping
that you'll come back to me...
Life in the Key of A Minor
Fingers gliding over
Silent keys
Slowly begin to play
A haunting melody
In minor key
We've been silent
So long
The music
Cuts through
Pierces
Straight to
The heart~
Fluent
In melancholia
The verses
Strain
Waiting for
A chorus
Of relief
From the
anguish
It builds and swells
Remaining
In minor key
And slowly ebbs
Back
To hushed notes
Whispers of the soul
Awaiting
The
B
R
I
D
G
E
For a harmonic
Connection~
In this
Darkness
Fingers
Glide
Searching for the
Lost note
Not seeing
The keys
yet instinctively
knowing
exactly where
they can be
found
Playing
Once again
From memory
Broke Down, Fucked Again
Published in Christopher Pimental's Thug Works Issue #2, 2007
Screw you
that's what you want
from me
right?
literal screw
mouth to neck
mouth to mouth
mouth to…
but you want more than that
you want me to rape your mind
'use me baby, make it hurt so good'
tell you how I fucked up again
how I need you,
bleed you
break into 365 pieces
losing myself
in increments
with each passing day
but-
I don't.
I found my voice
I choose to use it
you are wallowing
in yesterday's vomit
you could have it all:
passion
love
lust
fame
riches
and me
there is no
pretty rainbow
with a pot of gold
waiting
the road is not
l o n g
or
w
i
n
d
i
n
g
it is paved,
straight shot
but you've
run out of gas
broke down
again
unlike you I don't need no
gasoline to run
end of the road, baby
turn around,
walk away
Screw you
that's what you want
from me
right?
literal screw
mouth to neck
mouth to mouth
mouth to…
but you want more than that
you want me to rape your mind
'use me baby, make it hurt so good'
tell you how I fucked up again
how I need you,
bleed you
break into 365 pieces
losing myself
in increments
with each passing day
but-
I don't.
I found my voice
I choose to use it
you are wallowing
in yesterday's vomit
you could have it all:
passion
love
lust
fame
riches
and me
there is no
pretty rainbow
with a pot of gold
waiting
the road is not
l o n g
or
w
i
n
d
i
n
g
it is paved,
straight shot
but you've
run out of gas
broke down
again
unlike you I don't need no
gasoline to run
end of the road, baby
turn around,
walk away
Friday, November 9, 2007
Come to Me~The Laundry Poem Reply
Author Notes:Posted as a writing challenge, I took the original poem from Erica Jong and wrote a reply, titled 'Come to Me'
Erica Jong~ The Dirty Laundry Poem
This is the dirty laundry poem--
because we have traveled from town to town
accumulating soiled linen & sweaty shirts
& blue-jeans caked & clotted with our juice
& teeshirts crumpled by our gloriously messy passion
& underwear made stiff by all our joy.
I have come home to wash my clothes.
They patter on the bathroom floor like rain.
The water drips away the days till you.
The dirty water speaks to me of love.
Steamy in the bubbles of our love,
I have plunged my hands into hot water
as I might plunge them
in your heart.
After years of spots & splatters,
I am finally coming clean.
I will fly to you with a suitcase of fresh laundry,
strip my clothes off, heap them on the floor,
& let you scrub my body with your love.
Erica Jong~ The Dirty Laundry Poem
This is the dirty laundry poem--
because we have traveled from town to town
accumulating soiled linen & sweaty shirts
& blue-jeans caked & clotted with our juice
& teeshirts crumpled by our gloriously messy passion
& underwear made stiff by all our joy.
I have come home to wash my clothes.
They patter on the bathroom floor like rain.
The water drips away the days till you.
The dirty water speaks to me of love.
Steamy in the bubbles of our love,
I have plunged my hands into hot water
as I might plunge them
in your heart.
After years of spots & splatters,
I am finally coming clean.
I will fly to you with a suitcase of fresh laundry,
strip my clothes off, heap them on the floor,
& let you scrub my body with your love.
Come to me~my reply....
Dirty or clean
it makes no difference~
come to me
bring your dirty laundry
trailing between your legs
Together we can peel it away
throw it in the corner
of the basement
with the cobwebs
your juice soaked jeans
can lie atop my grass stained shirt
our smelly socks can play footsies
beneath the love stained sheets
of yesterday
Our mountain of undoing will make
beautiful art.
I will wash you
gently,
delicate cycle
letting you soak
in my waters
never scrubbing too hard
knowing some stains are set
from being left alone
too long.
Let us luxuriate in
fresh, unwilted sheets
savoring the smell of each other
knowing tomorrow
we'll pull on our clean clothes
get dirty once more
staining hands, knees, feet
come to me
...laundry can wait.
Futility
If words were enough
motionless they would be too small
I can never reach you
my essence washed away in morning light
with ebbing tides
I will never penetrate your
soul
the map to your heart
is penned with phantom ink
all that lies before me
this blank page
your memory permanently stained
with thoughts of her
never to be erased
your eyes are dull
with the disease of longing
as you slowly waste away
Your ears have already
tuned me out
static fills the silence
of your daily frequency
You do not allow me to enter
this world
where you are drowning
in this drought.
My tears alone could
saturate your soul
drink of me
I promise
I will never let you drown
Home Song
Quiet country lane
lined with brick dust, fluttering leaves
rocking on porch swing
head on your shoulder, warm embrace.
Breakfast blend steam rises
dissipates in Autumn mist
over the horizon Monet's Moon rises.
Inside pumpkin toast fills the air
While mulling spices simmer on the stove.
Leather bound books crammed
On dusty straining shelves.
Lilting laughter is heard from above
footsteps ascend creaky stairs
To attic, where treasures await.
Heirloom lace, woven baskets filled with acorns and gourds
Dust particles dance in sun rays
streaking through windows
Warming the stripped wooden floors
Lid of steamer trunk opened
Honey moths fly away
We dig through precious memories
then close the lid, ready now to begin this day.
Pile in 'Old Red' follow the brick dusted road
out to the country dairy
where cream silk dreams unfold.
Fields of sweet corn
Cornhusk green
Tales of tiny mustard seed
Weave in and out of mind
Like needle and thread
penetrate skin
stitching up wounds of yesteryear.
Nightfall, moon dancing
by bonfire's blazing light
warm earth under feet
Melted chocolate, marshmallows
Sticky sweet on tongue
Weary traveler from journey of day
Spirit whispers~
Time for bed. Our future,
Tomorrow~
Just moments away.
lined with brick dust, fluttering leaves
rocking on porch swing
head on your shoulder, warm embrace.
Breakfast blend steam rises
dissipates in Autumn mist
over the horizon Monet's Moon rises.
Inside pumpkin toast fills the air
While mulling spices simmer on the stove.
Leather bound books crammed
On dusty straining shelves.
Lilting laughter is heard from above
footsteps ascend creaky stairs
To attic, where treasures await.
Heirloom lace, woven baskets filled with acorns and gourds
Dust particles dance in sun rays
streaking through windows
Warming the stripped wooden floors
Lid of steamer trunk opened
Honey moths fly away
We dig through precious memories
then close the lid, ready now to begin this day.
Pile in 'Old Red' follow the brick dusted road
out to the country dairy
where cream silk dreams unfold.
Fields of sweet corn
Cornhusk green
Tales of tiny mustard seed
Weave in and out of mind
Like needle and thread
penetrate skin
stitching up wounds of yesteryear.
Nightfall, moon dancing
by bonfire's blazing light
warm earth under feet
Melted chocolate, marshmallows
Sticky sweet on tongue
Weary traveler from journey of day
Spirit whispers~
Time for bed. Our future,
Tomorrow~
Just moments away.
Meeting in the middle
Northern lights beckon
as virtual strangers arrive in unison
clumsily falling into this space,
scattering stars to distant corners.
stardust lingers
as we enter the circle
light surrounds.
Eyes of blue tempered by rain
draw me closer,
penetrate my essence.
Arms which were extended
meant to push away,
maintain distance
open to embrace
the circle has no edges
no beginning, no end
shutter flashes open
exposing a moment
capturing aligned thoughts
the lens
revealing the question
as well as the answer
free of smudges
boundaries cease to exist
in this continuum of time and space.
We embrace, conducting pristine energy
and the stars careen in rhapsodic awe
a solitary star collapses,
passing directly through our center,
orgasm felt across the planet
two once divided
now fuse into one.
Ressurection Plea
Author Notes:
This most likely won't format right on the blog...but hopefully it will come close. It was an experimentation with visual poetry. (And the result of some good wine!)
Hit the floor last night
on knees
a dying prayer
vocal pleas for resurrection
droplets of sweat filled demons
escaping pores
glass of blood-shed wine
f
a
l
l
s
from finger t i p s
shatters silence
s t a i n i n g t i l e
forming image of bloodied angel
wingless
halo of thorns crowning head
carrying solitude
burdens
dis-satisfaction
& rest for the weary
offering solace
promising asylum
receptacle for tears
which f l o w
tiny tributaries
channeling larger
s
t
r
e
a
m
of(conscious)
black is the night
which behind these
i's...
This most likely won't format right on the blog...but hopefully it will come close. It was an experimentation with visual poetry. (And the result of some good wine!)
Hit the floor last night
on knees
a dying prayer
vocal pleas for resurrection
droplets of sweat filled demons
escaping pores
glass of blood-shed wine
f
a
l
l
s
from finger t i p s
shatters silence
s t a i n i n g t i l e
forming image of bloodied angel
wingless
halo of thorns crowning head
carrying solitude
burdens
dis-satisfaction
& rest for the weary
offering solace
promising asylum
receptacle for tears
which f l o w
tiny tributaries
channeling larger
s
t
r
e
a
m
of(conscious)
black is the night
which behind these
i's...
Bathtub Intruders, 3 A.M.
Published in Christopher Pimental's Thug Works Magazine October, 2007
A facade crumbles
screams echo off
cool tile
perfect acoustics
amplify
yet no one answers..
I wonder
why you can't hear
these screams
miles away
or just downstairs..
larnyx constricting
fear tightens its grasp
nothing, no one,
not hate, nor love
just a
mouth full of nothingness
tongue carved out
no words can form
steam rises off the water
f r a n t i c a l l y eyes
strive to focus
something brushes against my skin
glancing down
I glimpse 8 small
heads floating on the water
dis-
connected
b r o k-
en
doll heads
staring up
through steam which
rises
between my legs
8 empty sockets seeing nothing
nakedness concealed
8 pairs of blue eyes flecked with grey
gone vacant
glazed over
eyes which once saw
beauty in the darkness
salvation in the flames
listlessly
stare me down
children
hearing,
never seeing.
8 heads bearing
c h i p p e d teeth
peeling skin
ghostly gaze
I am haunted
paralyzed a moment before
reaching out
I aim my lens
to capture these intruders
who inhabit my bathtub at 3 in the morning
focus
check aperture
make sure just enough light
gets through
careful hands
adjust shutter speed
don't blink too fast or they'll
d i s a p p e a r
Process now...
chemicals swirl
image
coming softly into focus
holding the picture at
arms l e n g t h.......
my own relection stares back
vacantly
Kisses
I'm a sucker for kisses
especially when they're scarce
and I never know how long I'll have to wait
until the next one comes along.
So when he grabs a fistful of hair
and prys my head away
from what I'm reading
I pay attention
and suddenly feel a pair
of sticky soft lips
press firmly against the corner of my mouth
accompanied by an 'mmmm'
A huge uncontrollable smile
forms on my lips
as I say, 'Thank you'
his eyes twinkle
silently saying I love you
and I selfishly ask for more
because I'm a sucker for kisses
even when they're
from a pizza face
snotty nose
little boy
because in the world of Autism
he just spoke a thousand
'I love you's'
with his sticky little lips
Yellow feathers in her hair (a retort)
You think you're so clever
scripting words
hiding names
pointing fingers
trembling as you fumble
with the clasp
pinning scarlet letter onto breast
attached to innocent face
strutting to and fro
working that catwalk
stop looking down
your nose
your perch
your hill
cause even kitten heels
will turn an ankle,
cause a fall
you only have nine lives
and chapter 8 is already completed.
Painfully obvious the things you scorn
are those you cannot achieve
unable to care for yourself
much less anyone else
you put on a good show
collecting names
golden men to fondle, stroking egos
basking in the spotlight
promising your love, then
when the supporting actor enters
stage left
you leave them on your shelf
gathering dust.
Sorry darling,
your 15 minutes are up.
born to play a role
taking whatever you want
regardless of who gets trampled
careful...those kitten heels
look awfully wobbly
you wouldn't want to fall head first
heels midair,
exposing all on the
red carpet!
Oh wait, that would be right up your
come-down alley
I forgot you're shelved in drama..
not many happily ever afters
come off that shelf.
you fail to see my quiet strength
waiting patiently behind the scenes
always listening, holding my tongue
I don't need the spotlight
I've my own light within
You see me tired
heavy burden on my shoulders
carrying those who have no voice
you remain clueless
motherhood changes you
you think I'm weak
loveless~
but-
the depth of the love I've known is
so much more than you will ever fathom
truth be told
it scares you to death
Close the Curtains (a letter)
Dear....
I felt you this morning. You were thousands of miles away and yet right in the room with me.Is it possible the mind can actually connect two souls at the same time? Did you feel me this morning? I was there with you. A powerful tingling shot up my spine and my body involuntarily shuddered. With gossamer fingertips I caressed your flesh and said 'I'm sorry' when I touched a particularly sensitive spot...
I whispered things which I would never say out loud into your ear and as we spoke, in silence,I became painfully aware of my heart becoming coaxed from the cavity of my chest and coming to rest on my sleeve. I quickly closed the curtains, pulled my sweater closer to my body, hastily retreating back inside myself.. I hope you didn't see too much.
Strangulated Elephant Tongue
loosen your grip
I've a headache
bred from meaningless words
loosen your tongue
from my mouth
extract truth
time slips by
waving, floating
assuring
i'll be fine
there's an old chest
in the attic
full of elephant tongue
which I inevitably
trip over
you remain a whisper,
flittering within
my eyelids
i would dig a trench
lay down roots
if i thought it would
help anchor these thoughts.
outside,
smoke rises,
i bleed-
you laugh.
a human wick
soaked through,
lying in wait
so close to those
damn elephants
sharing the room
saturated with knowledge
truth finally spills
bloody blazing burn
moth wings lit then freed
blackened scars
mar the needlepoints
dappled cheeky pattern
we've arrived at an impasse,
i am stuck to earth
futile attempt
to soar towards heaven,
away from ashes
while you ruthlessly gaze down
upon splendor of milky mountains,
honey valleys, starlit secrets
ocean hushes sky
fading, sinking..
i aim my voice
mock the horizon
truth easily warped
lost,
carelessly handled
brittle bones of truth
s h a t t e r.
you have found me
heard screams
which enveloped my throat
strangulated words
choked out in bits
and pieces
at last
you've come.
Words Unspoken~part one
You have no idea of the thoughts hidden away in my brain. Thoughts so ripe with possibility that I have dared to vocalize them, in twilight hours when silence amplifies them. Thoughts which are incomplete bursting with uncertainty, full of longing. If I told you would you hear me? I doubt it. There is no room in your life for a girl of averages and no room in mine for silly daydreams of places that will never be more than a name on paper, a dot on a map
The Wind in Me
I don't want to become
The tiny speck
That gets blown away
By the sheer force of the wind
I want to BE the wind…
I want to be the wind
That steals your breath away,
The wind that guides your sails
I want to be a whisper in your ear,
A song that comes to you
And consumes your soul..
I want to move your clouds
let you luxuriate in the sunlight
Remembering how pleasing
It feels to be warm
I want to shake the door
You hide behind
With tumultuous force
Tear down those walls
And carry you away
I want you to feel me
Even when you cannot see me
To carry me with you
When we are apart
I want to give you water
When you thirst
Quench the desire
That burns into your soul
I want to..
Howl for you
Blow for you
Haunt your every dream..
I want to make you dance like
The leaves which plummet from the trees
Softly spiraling
Back down to earth
I want to tenderly
caress your skin
Envisioning the goose-bumps
My presence creates
I want to scent you
With my perfume
And linger on your skin
Co-mingling with your own pure scent
I want to be your sunny wind
Your rainy wind
Your stormy wind
Your ONLY wind..
I want to..
Wash away your sorrows
Dry the tears you weep
Tenderly
reverently
silently
I want to..
Greet you in the dawn
Parting the curtains so you
May once again see…
My whisper to you…
The wind
Is me
Two sides of the coin
Author Notes:
'Two sides of the coin' was inspired by two separate poems I wrote. The first was written while in the midst of a powerful affair. The second I wrote after learning my son had Autism, trying to convey the inability to express the pain..there were no words. In writing the second part I was reminded of the first poem,in both situations I wanted to run away, but for two very different reasons. 'Two sides of the Coin' is the result.
Part One:
A love like this comes but once
but oh, that it had come sooner
for now I am faced to make a choice
between a fairytale and a legend
With a love like this
I want to flee
but cannot leave so easily
I wish and long to be with you
but cannot leave my family
Stolen moments throughout the day
are not enough to outweigh
the risk and danger these liasons bring
But oh! The joy, the rapture,
the absoulutely divine
I feel my best when I'm with you
I see my future in your eyes
And if someday my dreams come true
the rest of my life
I'd live with you
Part Two:
I tried to write last night,
the blank pages laughed at me..
as if to say, "How dare you try to voice your woe...
what a mockery."
There are no words to voice your pain,
no pen to write nor keys to type
as swiftly as the anguish comes
and takes away your life.
But yet I am not broken
I cannot be deterred
my soul has thoughts that must take flight
tonight they're through this written word.
For once again I feel I'd love to flee
but cannot leave so easily...
the reasons why this time around
are quite different from the past.
the pain is of a different breed
one which requires a heart steadfast...
I question God most days now,
when once I gave my thanks...
it seems these days are full of questions
is this life just one big prank?
Shattered
I wanna go back
to sleepless nights
breaking glass
when shards remained
unswept
carelessly crunched
under stiletto heel,
when beauty
was in breakdown
strength rose from weakness
when amber waves
reflected in the mirror,
wind-blown-hope
s c a t t e r i n g
to far-flung corners
crashing on distant British shores
while sirens screamed
in unison
a continent apart.
when bluest eyes
of starry night
were captured in glistening bubbles
blown through glossy lips
illuminated by harvest moon-glow
& flash of camera.
when courage was real
not foolishly contrived.
paper folded fortune
firmly clenched in fist
shouting out,
'this is my destiny, so riddle me this!
why does no one hear the glass
shattering on concrete streets
above
below
against the wall
no more
nomore?'
Ghost of Existence
I have wrapped my fear around me
like a tattered thrift store blanket
restless as the sea
I pace upon stripped wooden floors
while darkened corners
hide thick layers of dust
which have settled,
coming to rest on yesterday's
hopes and dreams
after a brief dance through sunlight.
Scraps carelessly tossed in my direction
are not enough sustenance
for inevitable daily wars.
Honeyed fallacies are whispered
in darkened rooms
where questions are sung to sleep
answers lie hidden somewhere in the chorus.
I refrain from drowning in your agony
that sticky sweet betrayal..
The light has prematurely faded
solar eclipse seen from pebbled courtyard
as a chill flows through the air.
Inside neither walls,
nor roof or windows
can keep out this storm.
Rooms on fire, bed is burning
still this house can't keep me warm.
Footsteps on the stairs
always walking away..
I remain shrouded in silence,
curator of your museum of artifice
dissapearing in the doorway
of regret.
A faceless, flowing dress
of rounded curves and plains
honey washed away with daybreak
bitterness all that remains
in this rain soaked Eden.
Unleash the rivers,
let rivulets stream forth
as tears fall from weary eyes..
your words linger, scars carved into my soul.
A prophecy spelled out
with impending spilling of ink
upon this parchment
certainty of 'the end'
while silent scars remain hidden
behind glassy eyes
never to be revealed.
like a tattered thrift store blanket
restless as the sea
I pace upon stripped wooden floors
while darkened corners
hide thick layers of dust
which have settled,
coming to rest on yesterday's
hopes and dreams
after a brief dance through sunlight.
Scraps carelessly tossed in my direction
are not enough sustenance
for inevitable daily wars.
Honeyed fallacies are whispered
in darkened rooms
where questions are sung to sleep
answers lie hidden somewhere in the chorus.
I refrain from drowning in your agony
that sticky sweet betrayal..
The light has prematurely faded
solar eclipse seen from pebbled courtyard
as a chill flows through the air.
Inside neither walls,
nor roof or windows
can keep out this storm.
Rooms on fire, bed is burning
still this house can't keep me warm.
Footsteps on the stairs
always walking away..
I remain shrouded in silence,
curator of your museum of artifice
dissapearing in the doorway
of regret.
A faceless, flowing dress
of rounded curves and plains
honey washed away with daybreak
bitterness all that remains
in this rain soaked Eden.
Unleash the rivers,
let rivulets stream forth
as tears fall from weary eyes..
your words linger, scars carved into my soul.
A prophecy spelled out
with impending spilling of ink
upon this parchment
certainty of 'the end'
while silent scars remain hidden
behind glassy eyes
never to be revealed.
Conduct Me
Conduct Me~ published in The Write Side Up Issue 4, 4th Quarter, Oct 2006 (writesideup.net)
There's a frenzied orchestra
that needs to perform tonight.
A deep desire that burns within
my body hot to the touch
yet shivering so violently
every nerve ending peaked
my pulse has quickened
my breathing shallow
coming faster now
emotions once hidden
need an escape
head back
eyes closed
fingertips assuming
an imaginary lover
who conducts the orchestra
in perfect harmony
rhythm and key
beginning pianissimo
with a lone cello
featherweight
caressing
and gradually building
stronger
louder
Andante
becomes allegro
when presto!
it peaks
the note sustained
back arching
sweat drenched
held as long as possible
then fades
and slowly ebbs
back to
silence
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
