PetrificationIf skin were like rocks,hers would run smoothwith tears,but as her cheeks softenwith weeping, its her heartthat turns tostone.
Fighting UpstreamThe past lay out behind me like a tired gray ribbon,a sluggish river of inadequacies, insufficiencies, insecurities.The time has come to find new streams to swim,a time of goodbyes that lead to the sea.
VaporIf I disappeared tomorrow, dissolved into morning mist, I would whisper over your waters, tracing my name in your soft surfaces, watching my essence float in the dimness before sinking into deep places, kissing you goodbye before I
a special kind of waitingat the airport, she seemspreternaturally calm,pent up, her emotionstightly wrapped likea swaddled babybut she cant sit stillshe walks to a highstool at a phone table,drags it out, sitsawkwardly, her legstoo short for comfortspeaks into hercell phone, closes it,gets up, puts thechair back, paces,speaks into hercell againwalks some moreIm waiting, too,scanning thecrowd closely formy young one, butsomehow notlike herthe depth of seriousness,the almost grim edgeto her watchingas she moves yet againI cant figure it outthe plane Im waiting foris slightly delayed, so Ican pay closer attentionas she stands at the ropedoff entry way, speakingquietly into her cellonce morejust follow the crowd,and it will bring you straightto meshe closes her phoneone last time and waits,her calmness meltinglike snow in thespring when ataut-faced youthwith closely cut hairappears at the blindturn and makesa bee line for herI wat
darkest before the dawnlike a skiff adrift on the deep,she finds herself buffeted bywinds too harsh, waves ofmemory too coldvoices from the pastthreaten to swallowthe futurebut she hasthe power tosilence the demonsthat threaten,to lay them lowwhen she slides towardthe shore and finds thatshe is not alone aswaiting hands reachout, eager to bringher home
WeightedGravity isnot my friend.It holds mefirmly in itsheavy handwhenI desperatelyneed to fly.
BlinkI'm going to die todayat 4:32 p.m.Kept late after class bya confused student,I will hit the intersectionof Highways 9 and 65at precisely the samemoment as a young manon his third six-packof Samuel Adams.Mourning the loss of thehigh school sweetheart wholeft him for a college boy,he won't see me.He'll be fine, so wastedthat his loose muscleswill roll with the rolling car.But I will see him cominghead-on and (no time toreact) will go rigid, so tensethat my neck will snap like atwig in the impact, instantly fatal,but a kindly injury that will let melook nice in my coffin should myfamily ignore my wishes to becremated, opting to preservethe husk in the ground for thecoming resurrection.
memory jarlike liquidpouredin a glass,thoughts ofyou fillmy mind,claiming eachcrevice likewater slidingaround ice cubesuntil everyspace isyours
Save MeMy mother, vainglorious,sang her own beauty andoffended the gods (thoughher boasts rang true enough);it fell to me to ransomher pride.Given up by parents,lover, nation,I lay abandonedin chains to themighty leviathan,my innocence consideredjust recompense formaternal trespass.On the cusp of death,I find myself in a herossure hands, my life reclaimed.But my freedom is lost, myvirginity now paymentof another kind.I am honoredon canvas, in marbleand bronze, alwaysat the height ofmy distress,my youth.None paint my formafter the sevenchildren I boremy rescuer.I am eternally beautiful,my marbled skinwhite and smooth,but the windsof the sea blowcold, and Iam still a prisoner,a captiveof this stoneforever.
homelesspictures hang on the walls unstraightened awry the furnituresits about in a pretense of arrangement painted wallscurtains rugs place settings all a rusewithout you, I have no home
TemptressIm not a pretty woman.But when I close my eyes,I instantly become every beautifulshe that ever lived ancient queens, somber priestesses slave girls.The years disappear,time no longer creasingmy face around eyesfrom which too manymemories shine.So, please, for me, close your eyes and let me be beautiful once more.
BittersweetInhale deeply the airof coming Novemberperfumed by my sighs.Breathe me in;hold me in your lungsuntil Im tattooed within you,a soft memory of whatmight have been.
TyrantAmazingly, the worlddidnt come to an endwhen I quit lettingyour expectationsdictate my life.Now, Im happierbeing myself andyoure equally contenttelling everyone what aa mistake Ive made.
CastlesI have to be careful in public(especially at restaurants).Too often, I catch myself staring at strangers(and they catch me back, making them fidget in their leather-backed booths).I peer at their faces and wonder abouttheir lives, building stories in my mind about them(with white picket fences, unending Christmas mornings, and favorite dogs that never die).I understand that Im unrealistic, illogical,a rank dreamer (but could I,I would write happy endings for them all).
Stonecutter Im an opal - not white opal, that milksop poser that jewelers pawn off as top shelf nor the breathtaking black opal with its brilliant exploding color. No, Im a boulder opal, Koroit, Yowah - a plain brown stone
Poetess By NightShe plies her daylighttrade in classrooms. Eros waitswhen the school bell rings.
BreathlessI've inhaled so muchof your essence, I'm chokingon my love for you.
For Whenever You Feel Alone...For whenever you feel alone... just remember...~ You are always in my thoughts.~ You are always loved.~ You are my friend for eternity.~ I will never forget you.~ You will always be my dearest friend.~ It's your messages I look for first.~ I am always here for you.~ I will always listen without judging.~ You can trust me with anything.~ Feel free to yell at m
Somewhere...And somewhere someone is cryingAnd somewhere someone is aloneSomeone feels like their dyingAnd another waits by the phoneAnd somewhere someone stopped tryingAnd somewhere someone is scaredSomeone is sick of the lyingAnother feels they can't be repairedSomeone looks for the meaning of loveSomeone feels by the blade of a knifeI'll give them my words and give them a hugAnd maybe I'll have just saved a life
Haiku For MarzieLoversDo they plunge blindly,or do pheromones lure theminto deep waters?Passions tides sweep allbefore them. Lovers cling asthey drown together.FriendsThey celebrate theirIndividuality,jointly, happily.An empty bottle,two glasses drained. A new daytugs at the curtains.FoesIntimacy soured,spite, bitterness and hatepoison memories.Anger fueling fear,the bloody confrontation,the futile slaughter
And You'll Never Float AwayAnd you always question how much I love youAlways wondering how much I really careIf I'll always be by your sideHolding your handHolding so tight so you'll never float away...But you have to know I'd always be holding your handYour fingers, laced in mine, oh-so-tightlyAnchoring you here by my sideAlways and foreverHolding so tight so you'll never float away...And if it ever came I was down to my last breathI would take that one last breath, no regrets,And I would share it with youArms around youHolding so tight so you'll never float away...
Sometimes I Write...Today was the first day of the rest of our lives.We looked back on yesterdayand saw strangers performinga warped mimicryof our own intentions.The outcome was never quite right.We would never do such a thing.We paved this road ourselves.We made our bedsand now it's time to lie in them -We made ourselvesand now it's time to lie to them.Why save fiction for sweet dreamsand saccharine touches?We have plenty for everyone.You held me close and whispered"Sharing means caring."I read between the linesand saw a sign printed:Misery Loves Company.A penny for my thoughts is far too expensive.I am a book you can borrowfrom the library for free.Add your name to the list -I'm checking out.
Let's Take TurnsWhen I was young, my brain promised itselfthat it would never, willingly, go to sleep.It would not "go quietly into that dark night".You see, when eyes close the rest of the worldhas a tendency to fall apart or run away.I quickly grew tired of playing hide & seekwith everything I hoped would remain static.These days, my eyelids have a mind of their own.I slip away and wake up, every morning,expecting this to be gone. (The nicest thingsalso have the capability to be the fastest.)So, now I wait - caught in the grip ofmemories and exhaustion.It's hard to be nostalgic about a game I neverliked playing in the first place.
coldWhen it gets cold outshe gets tired;I can't say I blame her.It's so much easierto take comfortin the dark,beneath warm bodiesand whispered promises.It's so much easierto lie stilland cover your head.The cold brings outthe matchstick men;all ready to alight,to warm your heart.To take it.To burn it.Eventually,the world moves on.Eventually,it gets easier to go outside.Let's try not to set ourselves onfire, in the meantime.
Summer VelvetFog moves over the faceof the mountain, caressingtrees like dark green velvetbeneath skies hung overwith too much drink,swollen with gatheringwaters soon to showerthe lush lands withthe deep warmthof summer.