Unavowed

promises I've made
in dark and deserted halls
have lost their safety
yet ties bind me here secure
my soul cursed by devotion

Biting My Tongue

choking down the acid
words i wish to say, like
poison eating its way
out, the droplets curling
on my tongue, banging at
my plastered smile, raisin-
berry much too worn down

I Didn't Find Him

the sky was still light when I left

only just beginning to wash pink

warm glow against the hard marble

I didn't find him

silly to think I could just wander

clinging to a vague memory

visitation of my youth

ascending in the back seat

sister silent beside me

we stopped near a bench, I think

not certain anymore

I didn't find him

Mom alone at first

two girls staring at her bent figure

from behind rain sprinkled windows

then all of us

looking at/to/through the name

slab nearly level with the ground

that's part of why

I didn't find him

and it was so cold

searching with snow fencing the plots

brilliant white fading as the sun

the wind became foreboding so

I didn't find him

and I drove home

sunset chasing me like a vague memory

of Dr. Tippett's grave

Cross-stitching one night...

slipped with the needle positioning for the stitch
I pushed in too far
leaving a growing dot
red against porcelain cream

of no real consequence
just another mark this body carries
telling its story without words

right shoulder
single chicken pox scar
reminder to practice patience

left thumb
indent on the flesh
reminder to always cut away

right ankle
once broken, now weak
reminder to leap deliberately

left arm
parallel lines
reminder to choose my surroundings

every scar
physical manifestations like nature's little notes
writing her story in me
informs not just the history
but directs the future

Day's End

after the joyous racket of my car stereo
my apartment seems deafeningly still

there is only the dull pulsing bass of a neighbor
and the swish of my pants
as I walk from room to room
arms filling and emptying
returning each object to its rightful home

pushing aside bits of paper
I strip off the jewelry of the day
sparkling against inlaid cherrywood

my simple coif that framed this morning
has been blown to pieces by the winter gales
and I haphazardly secure with a band
a wayward lock seeking out my cheekbone

slipping cool cotton against my sore muscles
I fall into the mold of my pillowtop
embraced by downy warmth
glasses set gently beside extinguished lamp

the blurry shadows descend
and tracking sleep eventually pounces

Red-headed Witness

through auburn curtains
with wide and perceptive eyes
looked upon the world
from rising in the morning
to riotous setting sun

Be Binary

tugging the hem of my shirt
I tried to remember when
      life     was simple
except that time never existed

it was easier once
no doubt

fewer questions
more options
or possibly reversed

not simple though
always with complications
repercussions traveling like ripples in a pond

yet even now it boils down
everything a yes or no
do or don't

maybe life is simple
          today

Sparring Partners

they were easy
two magnets drawn together
their banter pulled me in
lightning and vaguely aggressive
it should have singed
instead it warmed and crackled
like a hearth fire
and I understood how that could mean home
the repartee its solid walls
smiles, a door
to invite others to toast by the flames

Evading the It

awoke with a jerk
flooded in adrenalin
tidal wave across my heart

bedside lamp came on
with fumbling
            grasping
   fingers still clumsy from sleep

as the light bloomed
eyes sought
caressing each shadowed surface
in search of the It

terror tingled the nape of my neck
and I willed the air
   in & out
 in & out

the It couldn't follow me out
wasn't lurking by the foot
biding its time

as the pace slowed
     in & out
  breath ragged
licking dry lips
i feel the It leave

North Star

by duress I admit
though it pain me to note
how his gaze meeting mine
leaves a catch in my throat

under cover of dark
you could maybe persuade
an appearance of heart
though it be slightly frayed

if all else are busy
my smile could wander far
to brighten the night sky
like a brand new north star

The Hand That's Dealt

wind whipped as I turned the corner
lifting my hair at the roots
one parking lot light out
creating shadows I don't know
my steps quicken
not from the dark but the cold
was warmer when I came home
but that was four hours ago
four hours of memory lane
dealing photographs like playing cards
queen of hearts with her shy grin
daring me to remember

Ash Wednesday

lids down

my face turned toward the light

toward the heavens

I wait

. . .

"Therefore I despise myself

and repent in dust and ashes."

. . .

gently on my forehead

east to west

north to south

marked for all to see

. . .

on my knees

tiles chill against my pointed toes

heart heavy

I wait

. . .

(Job 42:6 Today's New International Version)

My Dear Abby?

from berry kissed lips her words fell
dropping in piles by manolo heels
heavy phrases
leaden on her tongue
sage advice she would never take
though she served like Thanksgiving dinner
with her plastic nails
and plastic heart

Valentine Aftermath

I should write a poem of love
unrequited or eternal
tragic, comic, real
a lifetime or just one moment
it should flow from dawn to dusk
then through the night
for love never sleeps
yet pulls from dreams
wisps of prince charming
and fair Juliet
or sly furtive glances
slicing the crowd


I should write a poem of love
maybe next year

The Shower

so nonchalant
she brushes compliments off
like dust
completely unaware
of her incredible strength

in the curve of her belly
a heart flutters
heels stomp the cha cha
and a new soul is housed, bred, loved

as her fingers tear paper
and lift out all manner of
soft fabric against infant skin
the smile grows

a myriad of accessories slip her grasp
piling a mountain
world of baby everest

the things we can provide
comfort, confidence must come
not from an estrogen crowd
but in the hopeful/fearful/hopeful heart

Solitary

I sit at the table
the house blush slipping past my lips
not as good as I remember
I should have tried a pinot grigio
tines pierce the plump shrimp
and I slide risotto beside it
lifting the morsel to my mouth
each bite feels like a performance
though no one sits across
eyes press on my skin
gazes slide past
not quite landing
that would be rude
yet even with their weight
I savor
. . indulge
order tiramisu for dessert
custard silky smooth
dissolving on my tongue
as a girl walks by
maybe fourteen
wide green irises
slash of pink lips she offers
"Have a good night."
I smile. .
no comment from her party
adults far too polite
to bring attention
this table for one

Tick

tick

tick

tick

the seconds passed

like heartbeats

tick

tick

when I was a child

I had my first watch

non digital

and it would

tick

tick

tick

I wore it to sleep

slid beneath my pillow

the slightly muffled

tick

tick

sending me to dreams

peaceful and serene

tick

tick

tick

a few years later

I found my grandfather's

old pocket watches

tick

tucked in a drawer

wound one and it answered

tick

tick

tick

beside my head

it pulled me to slumber

tick

tick

and to this day

if ever I can't settle

my troubled brain can't still

I turn to the

tick

tick

tick

tick

Aquarius

cruxed upon a shoulder strong
the vessel balanced well
water poured out as a song
the truth she came to tell

observations stacked aloft
her ever burdened back
matters not the world would scoff
she sees the white from black

Goldilocks

the sweater was too warm
bare shoulders too chill
I couldn't regulate
no balance

the sun rose too early
moonlight crept too long
I couldn't wake
no balance

the music was too loud
her voice too soft
I couldn't listen
no balance

the light was too bright
shadowed corners too dark
I couldn't see
no balance

the drink was too sour
dessert far too sweet
I couldn't eat
no balance

my dreams were too big
reality too small
I couldn't win
no balance

Ballet d'Hiver

under sheltered moon

in her whispering caress

spun flake pirouettes

Silent Conversations

I’ll be the one stirring my drink.
That’s what he said.
As if he would be the only brunette twirling his sugared café.
I didn’t need to worry though.
No one could mistake him for an average coffee shop devotee.
The moment I walked through the door I could feel his gaze.
It wasn’t the intrusive stare of a predator,
But rather a measuring scale that lived in his green eyes.
I slid into the booth across from him.
He tilted his head to acknowledge my presence,
But he never stopped watching me.
The only sound was his spoon in the mug,
A melodic clink as he drowned another sugar packet.
We talked without words for an eternity,
Silently tugging at loose ends.
My face cracked beneath the facade,
Walls crumbling to dust.
The coffeepot ran dry
And the night ran long.
Still serenely he stared,
Enveloping me with his world.
When the clock struck midnight he blinked,
Then paid his bill.
As we parted he placed his hand on mine
And I cried agonizingly dry tears.

North on I-380

fifty miles from home
the road is a gray pool
sliding ahead of my wheels

oncoming headlights like passing stars
the dark is a cocoon
her breathy hum sating the air

in my windowed shelter I glide
flowing like water
a single drop held by her voice

on repeat the song begins again and again
until the lights of home appear
an oasis from my lonely travels

Babel

"Curleshellot abaulano"
she cried into the night
"Curleshellot abaulano
Abaulano, my love"

And though the dark was crystal still
her words fell on deaf ears
for mournful wails mean naught to those
where answers not prevail

I heard her weep on gentle winds
as day came to a close
"Curleshellot abaulano
Abaulano, my love"

Through ev'ry shadowed corner sought
then found with child in arms
lashes weighted down with shed tears
no sense her mumbles made

Still hand could give what I knew not
a lift to heart and head
the gaze we shared as from my lips
"Abaulano, my friend"


 
 
(Pronunciation:  kur-le-shuh-lot   a-boh-lah-noh)

Girded

such Judgment

I place on these overburdened shoulders

such Recrimination

bathes my thoughts

if only i could

Stop

the earthquake

fill the cracks before the disaster

fortify the walls Before the assault

these preparations mean nothing

once the Battle is upon us though

filled cracks are still Divisions regardless the repair

walls can never hold against an Army of despair

Fashion Statement

Let sorrow tug at my shirt-tails for it makes no matter.
I will shirk my clothes
and continue unbound,
traveling the roads high and low.
I will wrap myself in petals of hope,
a chain of memories at my throat,
strung with tears
that sparkle like diamonds.
No longer strangling my breath
it twines,
bringing beauty and light to my future,
for tears can wash the vision clear.

Frozen Dawn

bashful blush the sun

arose from the barren limbs

no warmth to follow

Earth (unbalanced)

quaking
beating upon itself
sliding past an enemy
argument shaking the ground
trembling
toppling the city
cracks like veins
winding through walls
buildings convulsing
a terrain arrest

Earth (balanced)

silent stone
reticent through the years
still its history is told
pressed day by day
or flames that cooled
it forms the base
each step pounded in
it rises to meet us