My Window

The view from glass towers is the same as from gutters below -
skewed, distorted figures
as if fairies and giants create new forms bulging from old,
towering and shrinking from view,
punctured wings bent, and shoulders heavy carry the weight.
For a solitary moment, dazzling light catches perfection,
an observed perception
honestly hollowed by wind and fire,
never the same pattern twice sprouts new life,
I came home to find their toes in my window
and all they wanted was to eat
to fill-up on all I had to offer,
dine with divine scoundrels if you want to be served.

 

Domesticity In the Background

She walks
impervious to silent stares
daggers thrown and dodged
too many voices to decipher
on her own lying down
cracked brick feels worn
out she comes with no suit for hiding
and nets conceal no flesh.

Held her tongue for 7 years
kept the eminent hidden
tried to fit an unknown mold
placed hat upon hat on her head
hoping to find the right fit
something to pull over her eyes
deep enough to sink into,
covering ears too, lean in to listen.

Silence leaked
a hiss from a kettle whistle,
you hear it but quickly tune it out,
and it becomes just another noise
domesticity in the background,
moments of discomfort fade
as soon as someone else takes care of
the noise, the mess slumped in a dress.

Recipient of Singed Seams

My thoughts are a cacophony
of choruses ringing
inside a layer of haloed voices,
they cut like lasers coming around
to shine upon my mind’s eye
so loud along the edges
scorching too quickly to turn away
I stand, taking the heat.

I see the world outside my window
screen light haunts me,
reflecting all that I am
and all that I am not,
I fade away in a spotlight
I become a channel
the voices turning to you
recipient of singed seams
attempted escape causing friction.

My gut wrenches
tightening on sour words
held fast for fear of falling,
no one knows what is in the darkest night
except for my little halo and me,
each revolution burns a little brighter
the voices are getting tighter
acerbic points jab my temples
leaving wounds that all can feel.
 

Remedy

I use to feel like you
all coal ash and bitterroot
deflowered fruit, no joy
found the festive gross
walked alone, morose
fattened on my own
I know your verse.

To reach beyond dark edges
the light beyond, past the “if”
I chose to stay I choose to play,
my child’s eyes shining
simple wishes within my reach
lessons I can learn and teach
give into and grow.

Give back to the debt I owe
of joy, love, tender sugar
powder my lips, blushed
blood rushing in the heat of my chest
pushes light inward
cellular joy, modest pleasures
an oasis in my desert.

It is hope I tend in my garden
a reason to go on
invest in possibilities
never give up on love as a utility
it is within me, my ability
to nestle and trust is a must
if we are ever to remedy this curse.

Feeling as Heavy as Child's Play

Some days the weight of the world
is barely visible
rolls right off
like a giant raindrop
fizz plop,
by the time it registers
it’s gone and the weight
falls again, heavy and light
maybe, leaves a spot
water droplet on your hair,
left over love in your heart.

The world moves on
feeling as heavy
as child’s play in the Gravitron
pressed down
into a gravitational pull
holding your breath
trying not to hurl
the cacophony of your mind
like fuzzed out metal
blaring through you, spin
hoping to stop.

You weigh-in somewhere in between,
ribbon tied to helium filled Mylar
flying aloft carried by wind
while the weight stays
connected to my hand,
you in my heart
each breeze a dance, fusing
light draws eyes upward
turning to the splendor
body reacts to the subtle tug
ribbons, heart strings.

 

Shelter is Waiting

The springtide came without relief, floating,
for ennead months my heart was held aloft
like the bulbous morning clouds
releasing light slowly blushing,
on the edges glowing,
leaden grey underneath
the possibility of dissipation prayed for.

My voice, the summer winds
carrying seeds to grow
words whispered over currents
inside secret packages
waiting for torrential showers
to release their treasures held
sealed from potential destruction.

I, a tree, died in descent
my heart lost outer layers
received collateral damage on the way down
confusion leads to clarity
but not first without discomfort
roots pulled taut with pressure
new growth burning at the tips.

Twilight approaches, long shadows
stretched out behind me in trails of obscurity
blend into encroaching darkness
woodland merges into earth
retreat to lair of tranquility
where warmth radiates from within
and shelter is waiting.

Left Standing In the Hall in a Tween Time Curse

I awoke in a fog of dreams and dark mornings
a faint memory of seeing you sitting on the floor
a long ago memory combined with now
and you were in top form, on stage again,
touring America, muddled motel rooms
engagements at the mall.

The poet of the people convincing the masses
to engage with you in reflection
read your words with inflection,
I heard that giggle that always makes me smile.
Suitcase opened on the bed, head hanging low
reaching for the laces of your shoes,
you looked up, dread melting – forging a smile,
a light turning on in your eyes, feeding your face
the color rising in your cheeks, glowing from within
lifting your lips you spoke, tender.

“Hey Girl, where you been?” is all you said,
words losing meaning and purpose as energy
lifted my feet off the ground and into clouds
separating the earth from my soul, I knew I was dreaming.
Left standing in the hall in a tween time curse
the pressure of life began to beckon from the darkness,
but all I heard was the rumble of the road calling my name.