Lilly

I started my day in blackness
rain bathing me in its
devious promise of renewal

The earth felt solid
under my feet
as I walked down the hill
I remember this clearly
thinking it quite odd
considering the weather.

my daughter and I
walked hand in hand
scurrying along
to the bus stop
when we heard her scream.

Mommy! Mommy! He hit Lilly!

I felt my daughter clasp my hand tighter
and gave her a little squeeze.

The acid in my stomach began to
swirl as I quickly assessed the damage.

The truck never stopped.
Didn't even tap the brakes.
She never had a chance.

Lilly lay in the road
her body spinning around
violently
as she circled consciousness.

we hovered.

horrified,
yet unable to look away.

Within moments
her small body
gave up the fight,
went limp.

rain washed away
grief stained faces
makeup smeared.

The school bus came
a moment later.

I gave my daughter an extra hug,
Julia choked out a goodbye..
to both her mom
and Lilly
who we had placed on the grass
momentarily.

Lilly's beautiful fur coat
now slick with rain,
blood seeping from her mouth.

as the bus drove away
the headlights caught Lilly's eyes--
The rain has never been so cold.

Autopsy

I don't understand
how two people who love each other
can be so cruel.
no crime has been committed.
no harm, no foul..
yet, damage has been done.

Change.
something we hear a lot of these days.
everyone is pressing for change.
but so many aren't truly ready for it.
so many will not actively seek it.
I, myself,
not above reproach.

'Nothing ever changes'
What change do you want exactly?
if you don't know
how can you expect me
to fix things?
It isn't my responsibility alone,
you see...

this thing,
this problem
is beyond
he said/she said

we've been stuck in crisis mode
with no real end in sight

hope has become
a 4-letter word
we dare not speak.

Sure, there have been improvements.
we don't have heads
shattering glass windows...

there's much less shit on the floor
to clean up..

I haven't had to run uphill
after a naked little boy
in months…

praying for my legs to move faster
(Dear God, please let me catch him)
pleading that no cars would appear.
(Dear God, please keep my baby boy safe.)



I haven't bartered with God
(or whomever isn't listening)
for months now.
truth is I'm angry..
this Welsh blood courses through
my veins..

veins which sometimes
seem to ache
pleading to bleed.

I won't let go.
Not without a fight.

But this bullshit...
these 'fights'
repeated again.
And again…

I'm tired of it.
I simply don't have the energy anymore.

You're right when you say that
nothing changes.

You say, 'Maybe I have too many people to take care of'
'too many things to take care of'

Don't you think I've felt that way??


My reply without missing a beat:
'maybe you do. Maybe you need to get rid of some of them'
(leaving the choice of which ones up to you)


The only hesitation was that noise you make
in the back of your throat..
a sarcastic gurgle escaping,
before you replied,
'maybe I should'

I'm giving you an out.

Being a good man
does not always mean
‘till death do us part’
Consider yourself free.

I won’t consider you a failure,
It will just be an affirmation
that life isn’t fair
and will never be easy.

Though,
deep down,
I know you won’t be the one to
walk away.

You’re waiting for me to open that door
Pushing me towards it
Pulling me back.

When does love alone
cease to be enough?

I wouldn’t blame you
(okay, only a little)
If you walked away..
I never expected to be
so broken.

I didn't know I was going
to fall so completely in love
with blond baby curls
rosy cheeks,
tiny fingers clasping my hand
so tightly

I didn't know he would fit so perfectly
in my arms,
that holding him
would melt every stress away

I didn’t know
that I would feel a serenity and peace
I had never experienced before,
the cord connecting us
pulsing blood
two lives as one.
no cutting can ever
destroy that bond.
it only becomes stronger
with the passage of time.

I didn't know how easily
that false sense of security
could be snatched away.

I thought losing my mother
as a little girl
was the hardest thing I would ever
have to endure.

It’s funny how life works.

Through becoming a mother myself,
I realized how much she must have
suffered.

Not just from the chemo,
the biopsies,
the tracheotomy
but from being helpless,
trapped in a body that betrayed her.

Seeing her children scared,
confused,
being unable to comfort them,
scarcely strong enough to lift her arms
off of the bed
for our bodies to fold into hers.

Her sweet honesty perfume
replaced by metallic, medicinal smells.
Still we breathed her in,
afraid we'd forget one day what she smelled like.
(we did.)

Helpless.

I understand now.
As I watch my son
scream out in pain.
phantom pain that has no name--
(some call it Autism)
no words are spoken.

Helpless.

As I desperately play
the guessing game..
Is it his tummy?
Is he hungry?
Does his throat hurt?
Is he scared?

I’m scared.

I’m scared to jump.

Equally scared that
standing still
will be certain death.

The painful truth baby,
is that I can’t be everything
you need,
but you are so wrong
in saying I don’t try.
I have never tried so hard
in my life.

In your heart
you know that isn’t true,
just more words
spoken to anger, hurt..

I don’t want to be angry anymore,
at least not with you.
‘god’
is probably better equipped
to handle it anyway.

I’m still ‘just a girl standing in front of a boy…’
But my back is breaking,
my feet are calloused
my shoulders weak.
I’m standing strong
but not resigned,
not unmovable.

Where are you?

A floor below.
Separate bed.

Hmmm...
What was that you were saying
about change?

Calico Rose

Calico Rose, I have watched you from afar
dancing in your garden
by torchlight and watchful gaze
of marmalade sky

I have seen you under desert willow
in scornful heat of sun
weaving baskets,
wearing the dress you fashioned
from fabric you bartered for in Santa Fe

Misshapen straw hat shielding your face
sipping frozen margaritas
while you hum a tune from years gone by

Bare feet connect with dusty earth
keeping you grounded in present reality
while tonight you dream
of Picasso's Blues.

Blackout 1.1

Blackout 1.1~writing exercise

Merchant's House,
East Village
1933

Shaking violently,
night spirits,
bizarre happenings;
some say they never
left.

Small children,
bald, tattooed.
Marshmallow Man
frustrated patriarch
died,
stuck around for
Gertrude.
Stayed until her death,
searching for spirits.

One if by land,
two if by sea
hungry man
unpacked his equipment,
temperature cold.
Fisherman gets
skunked.

Heavy red curtains,
eighty-one degrees
in Mrs. Tredwell's bedroom
white marble shadows,
haunted Voice~
no reply.

Two mannequins
bald, yellowed
make a noise,
move the chandelier.

Shuffle dismissed
haunted obsessively,
static
forever.

Mockingbird

On the parlour steps in Virginia
a coalition forms
public outcry
insincere rage
guilt of doing nothing.

Ghosts of the girls
haunt the gravedigger
Mary, seven
Shelby Lynne, three.

He sees them clearly
laughing out loud
somersaulting
across California
fields.

Magnetic skinny love
Willie Rathbone
could not resist
took them swimming,
pools of blood
stain porous tile,
forever tainting memories.

Mockingbird
sings, out of time,
broken songs
in shame.

Dug out of the archives...

...just an old letter..unsent.

Dear....
I hide these feelings well, but that's only because distance allows me to remain shrouded whether in rain, darkness or light. Distance creates a pretense of safety. I look at you from afar with eyes wide shut, wanting to see so much more, yet afraid of needing too much. Toe to toe, fingertip to fingertip, eye to eye my disguise is shattered. Only behind this screen can I effectively hide. Light emitted diodes do not reflect back to you the yearning in my eyes. You cannot see my face lights up as you skate across my mind.

In the real world my disguise would be as thin as the soap bubble that alights upon my skin before bursting into a smattering of slimy wetness. I desperately try to scrub away the filthy residue of thoughts that have stained my flesh,but to no avail. The steam does it's best to cover, but it cannot conceal sound, earnest moans give away inner dialogue.

The pain I bear in keeping my silence is not allowing myself a chance . I write you of my passion rather than tell you. I don't allow myself the freedom of thinking that you could possibly be intrigued, much less have actual emotions. You began as needlepoint to my heart precise in your pinpricks, weaving in and out of my life.. as time passes the stitches so carefully contructed begin to unravel and you strip away more and more, leaving me feeling naked.

These are the thoughts that careen off the rails of mind onto the page, leaving me completely wrecked at the thought of admission. The cost, a penny in the wishing well, another for your thoughts...

Till next time....
I remain,
invisible.

I have nothing left to give,
you have sucked me
bone dry.

Shoo, fly
don't bother me.

For I belong to
nobody.

If all these unspoken words
are uttered
they merely become
broken dreams
which shatter at
your feet.

Not really a haiku, haiku.

Motherless daughter

stumbles through adolescence

rises from ashes

Empty quills, unsung songs

A friend of mine posted a poetry challenge. These were the rules:

You must use at least 5 of the 10 words from the following list, but if you only use 5, your poem cannot exceed 50 total words. If you use all 10, I'm generously giving you a maximum of 75 words for your poem. Post your finished product or cuss me out for this silly exercise. Regardless, here is the list followed by the poem that I came up with. Hope you enjoy writing, reading, either or both.

THE WORDS: interpret, bargain, consider, apathy, dusk,
deny, shatter, specific, anticipate and porcelain.



"Empty quills, unsung songs"

I consider your apathy a bargain


in exchange for hollow words,


empty promises.


Your silence simplifies,


what remains unspoken


is easy to interpret.



Deny me a choice


my words are paper airplanes,


perpetually ineffectual


in ability to reach the intended target.



Porcelain skin


remains uncovered


as dusk envelops my soul.


Nights fragrant song


cries out a thousand miles away.



Morning comes


s h a t t e r s dreams


so eagerly anticipated


yet specific to no one.

Exit Wound

thoughts
s-p-l-a-t-t-e-r
across
this
page.
shoot
me
now~
please.
Do it
right.
Make sure
there's an
e x i t
wound
so these
thoughts
can
s l o w l y

b
l
e
e
d

a c r o s s

the

page.

Letter to No One~Part Two

Man, I've got words
coming out my ears
and still nothing to write.
Some things only music
can decipher.
Words after all,
are just letters on a page,
strung-together
much like you were
strung out
hung out
dried out
burned out.

God I hate this shit.
Get your self righteous finger
out of me
knuckle deep
in accusations
it was you,
not I
who left
you,
who could
never silence
the fear within

I get it,
really, I do..
I was young,
a hot piece
of ass.
What??
We both know
it's true.
I could hang
with the boys,
get that creativity
flowing..
I was your drug
of choice
when nothing else
would do.

The moment we met
we entered into
a force field
which no one
could penetrate.
Long before
our lips
demolished doubt
our faces held the
truth
words stolen
before we had
a chance
to speak.

Breathless
you moved me
with one look,
one innocent touch,
fingertips
brushing an arm,
tapping out a rhythm
on bare kneecaps.
For months
we made love
without touching,
without speaking
dancing,
pas de deux
with eyes alone.

Mid-July a heatwave
rolled in
and the gang
rolled out
bare skin
stuck to
leather seats
of battered
trucks,
arms snared
around waists
'canyon carving'
along river road
anxious to
quench our thirst.

Transient Journey

Journey begins

attraction consumes

rainstorm dancing on plains

exhillirating high leads to a kiss, then,

danger.

Unexpected, slightly disturbing blog.

Sometimes the blackness comes
and all we want to do
is dig deeply into it
don't want to see the sun,
hear the sparrows
just want to get lost in darkness
sometimes it's just too hard to live.
the will is gone
lie with hands stretched out
nothing to grasp onto
will anyone see into the hole
find a way into the tunnel
where you are buried?
the timing is always off
you can't quite get out
but can't quite find
the end
stuck in the middle
no light from either side
feeling your way through
the darkness
finding only walls
there's nobody home
you can hear voices
people laughing
living
somewhere
but you can't quite get there
every once in awhile
a voice comes through
you hear it crystal clear
then as quickly as it came
it fades away
and silence remains
sometimes the silence is
so loud
it's deafening
you want to claw your eyes out
rip your heart out
because you're dying with the silence
it's too much to bear
you wish you could just
bang your head on the concrete
watch the blood trickle out of your skull
but somehow everytime you try to do that
you just wind up with a big fat headache
drinking too much wine
writing crappy poetry
no one will try to understand
so you stop.
and once again...
the will is lost.

Always, All-ways

I will let you roll off my back
like so many soiled dreams
before
I do not need anything you offer
whether liquid-filled paper cups
or 15 second sound bytes
I refuse to feed the hunger
knowing too well
phantom pains and lies.
Emptiness is less palatible
but much easier to swallow
than saccharine half truths
told under a paper moon
I will give up this hunger,
without sacrificing thoughts of you~
who taught me how to feel,
every ounce of blood I shed,
every bitter tear of defeat,
every breath of agony.
How could I possibly forget you,
who taught me to dream
in
technicolor
of
tangerine lips
wildflower honey
independence
these
nothern light
dreams
of aborted songs
and perfected touch
You,
who told me
cages have keys
bars fade with memory
tomorrow is only sky,
and the wind can reach the ocean
but not in stillness.
I can starve off this hunger,
but never thoughts of you,
who above all else
taught me that
always,
all-ways,
there is love.
Inside of you
and surrounding you
whether you can feel it
or not.
There is love.

(this meesage is for you as much as me.)

Elegy of Time

Love will never be enough
the whale has swallowed
love whole
while the ocean weeps
and earth tries to count the tears
love dies off
like everything else
slowly, painfully
never of natural causes
living become dead
Ashes scatter
winds cease

((hearts break))


willows weep in agreement

it is time.

say goodbye...

~goodbye~