Indie Author

Finding & Creating Beauty in Unlikely Places

Month: May 2017

Summer Approaches

–I’d like to dedicate this poem to the woman I heard on the radio the other day, whose mother suffers from schizophrenia. Who said [paraphrased], “Thirty times, we lost her. And we got her back. And we lost her. And I grieved her every time.” ┬áThank you for perspective. And hope.

 

I am struggling
to live up to
my proud words

in my heart

I am floundering
this dry, lonesome season
outstretched like a crucifix
my feet affixed to a path

no choice

but to force forward
look to the East

But in my heart
I am not brave

and I am struggling
to live up to
my proud words

Not to the promise
I gave you
to love you
no matter what

Loving you is easy

Not to the truth
that I would offer
my very life

to help you
save you
resurrect you from
razor-sharp coral
you keep trying to
swim through

No, dying for you
would be easy

This silent passivity
being asked of me
is not

It’s not in my nature
to keep quiet
not fight for you

But remember
I know enough to know
that I could in fact
hack away at hardened
coral flesh til my
fingers scraped to bone
til my tears ran black
til it tore us both
in two

But what good would it do?

I know enough of sawing
souls in two to know
I can never do that
to you

But in my heart
I am not brave
and I am struggling to
live up to
my proud words

The Spirit says
I have to
otherwise
it is not love
and nothing short of Love
will do

I cling to that
when my fingers tremble
over keys I won’t press
calls I won’t make

when I burst into tears
at the mention of your name
when I recite poems
like prayers
when prayers are the only
Voice I’ve got
when the Void won’t
let me rest

I remind myself

Silence
is the love
you’ve asked for

And whether desert,
forest, sky, or sea
My Love
For You
Remains

True North
An eternal hoping
A resting place for all my
proud words

May

I keep thinking
I’ll make something meaningful
out of this
a little beauty for ashes

I walked the Appalachian Trial
this past weekend
crossed your road
J asked
“Do you know where you are?”
Yes
I’m in the wrong May

I wanted to go back
to the one where you
pointed out the path
for us
said
“The Appalachian Trail
runs through there”

I wanted to walk until
that road veered into
broken asphalt and dirt

I wanted to find last year’s
May there I wanted to do
what I wanted to do
then
cotton wrap your skin
fold you into Home

But I couldn’t get across
that double line
fast enough
I could’ve walked til
my lungs gave out
I can’t outrun
this May
fast enough

Jaymes Young:
screw you!
Forget Pandora too
I’m tired out being
cut out of my skin
every time I hear you
and Big Jet Plane
I wanna set fire
to the laptop
and hug the speakers

I rediscovered
Tori Amos
and
myself
in her randomness
I wish I could
scrape such beauty
from my consciousness

Lyrical fusions
tethered to nothing
then she’ll drop that
minor note wrap
God’s fingers around
my throat
plead
There must be something
here

I’ll sit through five minutes
of Baker, Baker nonsense
for one moment of raw truth

I’ll hold my breath through
God knows how many months
of silence
for
one
luminous truth
one I still love you

even if it’s just
an echo
bouncing off
the canyon
last May
was shoved into.

In Between

Today
I remembered when
a hand reached around
this door frame
warm fingers over mine
like I
was something exquisite
to touch

I remember when it didn’t hurt
this much to stare down a
crowd
wonder if I’d see you
there

When I didn’t dread
locking eyes with her
a face so like yours
now I can’t shrink into
corners far enough to
avoid
those
eyes

I wonder
how I was good
to anyone this
year
despite what they
tell me

Grief persists
whether or not the
blame is assignable

The Void
won’t fill
where only
You
fit

It is a heavy
hollowness
Congratulations
you’ve taught me
something new
How we hope
because we have to

How I’d just as soon
remove an organ
as recollections
of You

My love
for you
a voice box with
no lungs
still singing

Thoughts of you
elbow into
every quiet space
I pushpin them to
a thrice-opened wound

Too full of the loss
of You
to feel anything
but ocean floor
When I remember.

Declaration

I just want to go numb
be done with four-letter
words bearing weakness
so vividly
I just want opaque
withdrawal
out of body
astral extremity
no pressure points putting
pressure on you on sagging
limbs tired of hearts
too heavy to balance
too salted with my tears
too scalded with their
Unjustified jealousies

only ever

Love Out Standing Stranded
Love Opposite Simple Sincerity
Love Over-Stepping Self

Love Only Surviving Sin
Love Only Surviving Sorrow
Love Only Surviving Separation

Love Only Selling my SoulZen
Love Only Seeking Sanctuary

Love Only Searching my SoulBrother
Love Only Seeking my SpiritSon

Love Only Sewing Salvation
Love Only Saying Someone
LOVES YOU NO MATTER WHAT

Dally

Our inner bard only knows one song
One story we collect in our vocal chords
We got sidetracked the other day
talking about The Outsiders.
I had just seen the film and it moved me,
cause I know those kids.
You said, “Yeah. It’s one of
the two books I’ve actually read.
Y’know Dally? He’s my favorite.
And HE died!”
And all I could think was
Baby, you ARE Dally .
He’s boys like you, taught to
equate the fist with the size
of a man, when a dick’s all a
blow makes you
Taught to treat tears like soiled pants
something to feel ashamed of
You learned kindness exposes
your groin for the kick
Softness a foreign word you
can only decipher if the sex is bad
and I wonder how many tail tucks
it takes to turn a dog junk yard vicious
Or forget the taste of tenderness
Dally, is it too late to remind you
to watch a sunset?
You were once a Pony
so go on a treasure hunt for
the gold they stole from you
Cause thorns smothered your
kingdom while all the adults were
sleeping
And if they’d loved you at all, they
would have at least offered you
a spindle and a needle
I get it
Even Ponies can forget
the taste of a sunset
But there’s green in those
poems you spit
In that Lost Boy banner you wave
So pissed with those
confederate-shaped
rage-colored waves
carried on the wind you think
nobody notices
The mushroom cloud
The blood-stained boot
The fusion
I get it
Dally was Dally
His end
was always going to be
the same
But You
you were once a Pony
Til they broke your legs
& made you hard
But it is not to late
to go on a treasure hunt
And reclaim your sunset.

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