X2

And then I left you there
cold and wounded
silent and sad
jilted and betrayed.
I said all those things that would make you cry
and you said all the things to make me think.
I was too stubborn to listen,
too smart to heed
and in the end
I know you loved me.
That was long ago
skies bloom grey
and I still wait for day that you will make me pay.
But I guess a broken heart at thy own hand is enough?
She sang our song and I wrote the poems and together,
we made magic
a blanket that healed and made me wiser
ready to try to again.
But this time I know,
it will be me who is
cold and wounded
silent and sad,
jilted and betrayed,
bound and broken.
Oh sweet joy.

SITB

Madam

Fourteen stones danced across his carpet
and fell at his feet
when she asked what they were for
he didn't hear her.
But said, "you can have any one you wish,"
and pointed at the diamond,
instead she asked for a kiss.
Three silk robed flew into the room
and fell at his feet
the gifts of his Mommy and Daddy.
He said, "you can have any one you wish,"
and she asked to sleep next to him,
to feel his laughter
and listen to his warmth.
Insulted he called her a whore, and ran into the night,
after a woman with a yellow lining.
She burned the stones and the robes, and went into the night to find a real knight.
One she could feel and not hear.
And when she caught a glimpse she ran, and she knew she made the right choice.

And I want this to be the last thing I ever waste on/write about you.

SITB

It was Sam, not Charlie

I wore my best dress.
My shoulders quickly went numb with anticipation.
When he entered, dressed like a gentleman,
I introduced myself.
I said,
I know we haven’t met,
But I recognized your gait,
And the way you look left when you walk.
He was startled, but said,
Nice to meet you,
Then, suavely,
I think we’re in for a long friendship.
I didn’t want friendship,
But the man before me,
Even from several meters away,
Looked charming.
So I danced that afternoon with him,
For hours and hours,
Until he drove me home
In his white carriage, with fur lining.
As I threw my dress on the floor,
And climbed into bed,
The only reassuring thought I had,
Was that Guilt was a man,
And not my great-aunt Helen.


clr

Chicken Scratch

It's sad now, but my heart is a drunken mess.
My mind is a drunken mess, with your picture swirled all around.
I wanna scream: this is stupid, this is ridiculous,
but, he won't let me.
I stumble here and I stumble there, waiting for the time
when I can finally gather my thoughts that are no longer mine.
They've lifted in air, hovering above, taunting and teasing
because they know I find this feeling almost displeasing.
It's strange, this twisted pleasure
all because I a smile that I do treasure,
has made me a drunken mess,
a head and heart full of sweet stress,
and so I wait for the time,
when I can gather the thoughts that are no longer mine.
And when I hold them close,
they will tell me the secret of love's chicken scratch.

SITB

Untitled.

I am not the captain of industry.
I am not the girl next door.

I do not dream of going to outer space.
I do not want to help the masses.

I can not rise above all my peers.
I can not charm the pants off of everyone.

I will not break the glass ceiling.
I will not play in the big leagues.

I refuse to do what I should.
I refuse to be whom I admire.

I have no hope for world peace.
I have no balls of steel.

I get no true joy from hard work.
I get no chances of a lifetime.

I own no true name.
I own no family money.

I feel no rhythm in my feet.
I feel no calling to a higher purpose.

I won’t respect my elders.
I won’t play nice with the other kids.

I am not who I want to be when I grow up.
I am not just a woman.



clr

the worst illness

Her sight is failing, it’s obvious.
Less and less is she able to see imagination,
Whether it stands on the horizon
Or stoops only inches in front of her face.
Her feet can’t hold her weight much longer.
No longer nimble,
Foregone prancing on moonbeams, soaring over puddles.
Her own gravity sags her smile
Like she belongs to the world,
Not the other way around.
She grasps anything she can
To help her keep her path.
She’s sick of flying, ready to land and settle her stomach.
She is a foreigner to this place,
And can't often recognize my face anymore.
She collided with a nasty cloud of worry,
And it has fogged her brain,
Obscuring her, fading her potential,
So she rests here to die.
Drifted from the flock, she comes to find peace.


CLR

Stupid Now

Stupid Now
I've gone stupid now.
I hate that poem I wrote for you
because it contains everything I once had---for you.
All the love I had---for you
and all the pain I suffered---for you.
And I hate that I can't even put it with the rest.
I leave it lonesome, as lonely as you made me feel.
I read it almost every week and feel it all.
I miss you, no,
I miss the love.
I miss those dark eyes that kissed my body to decode the braille.
I miss staring into them and seeing myself, seeing you.
I miss you, yes, but,
I miss the love.

SITB

Stupid Now

I've gone stupid now.
I hate that poem I wrote for you
because it contains everything I once had---for you.
All the love I had---for you
and all the pain I suffered---for you.
And I hate that I can't even put it with the rest.
I leave it lonesome, as lonely as you made me feel.
I read it almost every week and feel it all.
I miss you, no,
I miss the love.
I miss those dark eyes that kissed my body to decode the braille.
I miss staring into them and seeing myself, seeing you.
I miss you, yes, but,
I miss the love.

Peter

And one day,
when the snow falls just so,
I am going to say I love you.
I am going to want to hold you close.
I am going to want to kiss you and breathe
in everything you are.
And one day,
when the snow falls just so,
you are going to, I don't know.

SITB

Mad Illusionist

Why is it always her?
Her silence beckons when it should warn me off.
That fake smile makes me yearn,
Stronger than my own awkwardness.
When she yells, I read it as no need for formality.
When she’s not there, I don’t quite know
What to do with my shoulders.
After I see her, I turn up my music
To drown the shaming thoughts of
I shouldn’t. I can’t. I’m awful.
Then I think,
But I don’t. And I won’t.
And she doesn’t know.
In an hour I’ll feel like a stalker again,
Checking my inbox
On all six email accounts.
Even checking the spam,
(Though I’ve saved her addresses. All three.)
Hoping for a
I thought about you…
Or a
I forgot to mention!
And Mr. Hyde resurfaces.
Despite efforts to center my soul,
I look at her telephone number.
She’s far from here.
Not too far that I have an excuse to forget,
But just enough that it’s weird.
I imagine her day,
And how orbital I am,
Always hovering around her life,
But never actually entering it,
Or making a crater.
(Not for want of trying)
It seems too long for me to pine
Self-loathing spawning
With each day,
Month,
Years now.
How sad, they all must say.
Those who know, that is.
Which is more than you might think.
I push myself to seek solace,
Onto boys and girls that seem removed,
That seem figureheads.
Distractions, from what I’d rather do.
And that’s dream about her.
About you.
Yes, you.
It’s been about you for some time.
And I hate you for that.
I’ll always love the dream of you,
But right now,
Today,
When I blast the music from speakers
Twice the size,
I am Jekyll,
And I wonder where this time has gone,
What I’ve done,
And what I’ve created,
Inside my own, damn, mind.



CLR

Remind Me

A brittle conch reminds me of an ancient world,
One reflected in Novas billions of light-years away,
While the present is momentarily lost.
The salt in my lungs and under my eyelids
Keeps the soul dry and plump.
The drum of the ocean,
Like child’s splashes in a giant bathtub,
Toddler giggles soothing anyone to surrender,
Sometimes cranky, sometimes calm.
Puppy footprints that swerve to and fro
Remind me of loyalty
Remind me of togetherness,
And the infinity of the shore.



CLR