lazy day

sought to define

She always seem to be
a step ahead or day late and a dollar short;
one of those girls
that can lure beautiful men into her bed
though never do they tarry long.

They were only crushings anyway, yet once
upon dream she fell
(those golden boys having spoiled her well)
and twilight mixed
with madness kissed her lips and the sun
became the moon.

For a brief beat she knew,
she stepped in time with the world, bathing
in moonshadowed pools.

Then as always she began
restless in the limbo pacing, thirsting
for the object of her affection, of her desire
and sought to define.



July 11, 2007 - Wednesday


a few bits missing

I admit to distraction
even leaning back
letting my head loll
on the pillow listlessly

my mind takes stock

finds a few bits missing
moves on toward
Shakespeare having
fallen on the floor.

june into july, bipolar days and nights of unrest

July 10, 2007 - Tuesday


safety of the shore

Matt says
surviving is not living

I know this
but it's the one thing I trust;

survival

I also know
not all hearts are the same

and mine dips and sways
wants to soar

but wants
the safety of the shore



July 8, 2007 - Sunday


as well she wants

incongruency of action
and words is the heart
at odds yet she waits
in sweetest sorrow
knowing she can live
without him but knowing
as well she wants to stay.



July 5, 2007 - Thursday


somewhere along the line

I didn't mean to be a poet
much less one of love and death
nor did I set out toward
the bearing of my soul.

I wanted to dream in far off lands
and drink the depths
of blue red oceans sent down
in black blue ink.

somewhere along the line
I learned to feel and think
far more than such a small
tender heart should

somewhere along the line
I learned to weep and mourn

somewhere along the line
I learned to love and to live.


note: yes, "bearing"...



if seemingly i cling

Sometimes the world moves
but I cannot move with it

the silence prevents me
and I mourn the coming days.

I am not always whole. Not
the way your love makes me;

and I fear no other will ever
make me feel the same. So

if seemingly I cling, Love,
forgive and kiss my brow

let the worry from me go.




July 2, 2007 - Monday


where words cannot reach

still
in the quiet blushing
slow
sweet
thrusts
enveloped in your arms

I crawled inside
us a tangle
and found

that place
where words
cannot reach




June 20, 2007 - Wednesday


in the learning

each we come
in time our own
to the reconciliation

of need, want
against should

I can hear you
breathing, articulation
in the learning

and beam bright
smiles lit in eyes

pride, proud am I
to be privy
to the growing of you

exquisite, sublime
oh beauteous
lover mine

in turn I grant
thee glimpse
your own of
my own becoming

for you do foster
my soul searching.



what a strange thing to mourn

despair
makes an odd
wailing
moaning
guttural
exhalation
of silence
it twists the hands
and wraps you in a ball
immobile
on the bathroom floor
eyes staring wide

minutes seeming hours
pass
yet no one
ever comes
to claim you

you rise alone

and suddenly
you're a shell
that weeps
in the car
on the way to work
on the way home
in restaurants


when your only solace
is the strength you muster
your endeavorance
to persevere

then one day you awake
and you've lost
your anger
it is as much gone
as the body you've buried

what a strange thing
to mourn
anger



June 18, 2007 - Monday


shine - a poem for t.c.

distance, I
thought
you had gone
thought
you were going
thought
you didn't want me

sent word that I miss you

and you spoke to me soft
and gentle as is your way
and we did part that eve
a promise

that we have the now
and the now we are taking

for a love like this
though future uncertain
should shine

shine
baby
shine



June 15, 2007 - Friday


began to learn to trust

It was a Sunday
when I smiled
and turned
my face toward the heat


static in my ears
as I sat in the sun
of my southern youth
suit wet and trying to dry
deaf by the water
laughing with friends;

there is a first time
for everything.

Last eve my lover
lay beside me
neither of us sleeping much
for each others body
in the bed
as all night
we lay arms and legs
a tangle
softly spooning
gently touching
tossing turning

fresh from the water
he had smiled with his eyes
heart a sparkle
and mouthed words distinct.

It's been ten months since
he became the first
to tempt me
to water
after far too long

ten months since
I began to learn to trust.



June 14, 2007 - Thursday


red clay and dawn

the white man came
tore my earth, my soul
asunder and since

each life I have walked
lost in their way, spoke
in their tongue, all
the while my soul
beats red clay and dawn


June 14, 2007 - Thursday

the piece i need (the peace)

In the long hours of dawn
where the waking cannot find me
and sandmen tug as I turn neat away

Valhalla lulls me with her languid coo
"rest, my warrior queen, too long
have you held to heart the strength
of nations gone to war
and the women left to weep,

set your burden to drift awhile
in ebb and flow along my shore

let me grace you with my limbo
and tread ye not along the moor."

Ever do I search the way
within and find the piece in need.



June 13, 2007 - Wednesday


she - that girl

close to three a.m. – again.
wasn't it wrote – that time before…

seeming always and again, again
in the dreamscape does he come

mayhap more oft he stays
but on this eve he did go.

early morning on the morrow
but he left her in good spirit

and less lost is she – that girl –
who let her lover steel her heart



June 12, 2007 - Tuesday


at thirty-seven going on twelve

Twelve
why twelve?
cause twelve was a good age
an age of innocence
of body
if not soul
before my menses flow
several years before
my hymen broke

it was an age of push and shove
where games were played
on asphalt and merry-go-rounds

though things with me
never came easy

I was still just a girl

just a girl

and the future was out there
it had not finally come

it had not
finally come


a soul that bleeds

that girl that did
that girl that does
that girl she turned neat

face toward flesh
she seeks
a way to stop
the love
the hurt

he is just a man,
my girl,
they are all

just men

and you?

you were graced
with too large a heart
a soul that bleeds
and the capacity
to give


tease the waking

I
That she could burn so late
through the cold yuletide
worries; what will become
of her in the summer heat?

Do suns burn off then dissipate
or like planets will she make
to the old bone yard seeking fate?

I could not know for she am I,
still, at the fire of yuletide dying
mourning embers' glow
softly fading and in my limbo
do I linger, look about
almost meek, "My god!" I cry
Where is my December!"

II
late into the eve
my southern sun does tease
and in my lulling haze
I brush soft
nipples large
and full and pink,
world about me sighing
it stops but brief allowing
her to think.

June 11, 2007 - Monday

in the next moment

As I lay naked
prostrate to the world
core broken
but on the mend
a new day dawns
and I aspire
to reach, to ascend.



June 10, 2007 - Sunday

in the momemt

in this time and place
there is no morrow
nor no yester eve
there is only madness
and soft soliloquy



June 8, 2007 - Friday

on the otherside

On the otherside
he will greetme
light
an'energy
we will spark
an'trail
hand
an'hand
across the 'verse
leaving comets
in our wake;
my older brother
who is younger
thanI
we willdance
an'make
whole planetsshake.



June 7, 2007 - Thursday

cold flesh blue

in the midst of /madness
I tread
the water /cold
flesh blue like /silence
deep is the unknown



June 3, 2007 - Sunday

streak the unraveling

In the absence of flesh
I may just come undone
and streak the unraveling
about the 'verse
to catch in the wind
on a wayward line,
little heart left to dissipate
and wither on the vine.


mam ate molasses with butter and bread

Every now and then
I'll buy that soft white bread
melt my butter just to soft
drizzle it with molasses
honey, maple or sorghum
then tear my bread
one bite at a time and sop
that goo like gravy
creamy and sweet
let it tease my tongue
all the while wishing
I ever had a youth.


if i blink slow

if I blink slow
will the world change
will I find myself
on the morrow
in a different dream



May 31, 2007 - Thursday

my husband once

last time we spent
so long tete a tete,
we spoke of greed
and selfishness
and how all those years with you
had undone all my goodness
how I finally broke

my core
to regain it

but I was young when we met
my youth had left
(if it had ever come)
my youth had left me

wanting
something
anything
akin to love
affection
attention
I was starved

this time we were at ease
and in friendship
parted gracefully

I would you know
I will always recall you
as my husband once

my husband



May 30, 2007 - Wednesday

radio star

In these last few years
I have discovered
far more about myself
than I wish to know,
far more about others.

Some people hope,
they place hope in me
and I fail them.
I failed my brother
when he fought to live;
I failed my lovers in
not meeting their ideals.

All too often,
when the unknown
becomes known
it loses luster, lacks.



May 29, 2007 - Tuesday

in the love i dreamed

I question
was it the beauty of us
or the beauty of me
as I came and came
and in the love I dreamed


with the leaving

one day
there came a fading away
and I knew
nine months couldn't hold you
but still
I struggle against my will
with the leaving


killed a bee

killed a bee
smashed the blinds all to hell
thought about blowing ten dollars on a whore
but I don't know any
not anymore

when love graced

lost in dark
came the light
gentle falls the rain
and I am drowned
too much in thought
lost in the light
came the dark

look to flesh
be my savior
grasping air
lover lost to time
time…
never lost
when love graced

limerick

She came one day in soft little Ohs,
who'd a thunk she'd become a giggler.
and coo to the bounce of a lovely man
who's an ardent slap and a tickler.



prodigal child

Mam had grandiose dreams
of a prodigal child
practice wasn't a thing tolerated
everything should come easy
and at her whim - even life -

dance, cello, flute, guitar
and that was just for me
there was another girl once
with dreams, and a boy.

But all I was good at was
being distracted and shy
books and being a goof

Now, I'd say I'm good at something
I can write, I can fuck like crazy
(though that stays in my pants)
and I can feel my freedom
in the low grind of a good beat

an old soul finally letting go

the kind a girl that walks
off a broken toe for weeks

funny thing is I really wanted
to play that guitar and sing
if she ever would have let me – sing.

not that i'm a daddy's girl

Remembering my first car
a '78 Audi Fox, standard;
that was before 5 gears
and before power steering;

the timing began to slip
early on and my Daddy
showed me how to set it.

I miss my Daddy,

trailing behind him Saturdays
like a pup in need of petting.
He taught me my independence
I got them through his genes.

Not that I'm a daddy's girl
but I am my father's daughter –
strong or at least perseverant.