wesley chapel

like so many leaves scattered,
tattered before the ashy day’s end

I find myself caught up in the wind’s

whispered sigh, pushing solidly at my

back….accelerating me and I imagine

 

that small space occupied by your hand.

Not anxious, not getting me out of the way….

instead moving with me as I sway in fiery

reds and yellows and crispy browns ~

a small stand of myself along a cemetery’s edge?

An odd meeting place for lovers without secrets…

hedging bets on dreams never dying…

and I’m caught up in the lacy folds of fence,

the white’s kept in and coloreds sleeping outside

in wiry waiting woods….all tangled,

haunted by neglect yet somehow

freer than their kept counterparts…

with families and a duty during holidays.

we skip stones and generations skip departed

like so many leaves scattered

tattered before the ashy day’s end,
finding ourselves...

11/2009

afterburn

sometimes I’d like to
burn away
this gravity’d girth ~
pain
plane

and jettison
falling away
in ringed fire
mmmm…desire
hotwired in a
stolen shuttle

burning humanity
1111 g's
profanity unheard…
free as a bird
in a spacesuit
built for two ~
high on oxygen laced
kisses.

slipping surly
mundanity ~
insanity;
whispering
eternity
found


paradise unbound:

in a moon walk.

in silent thought

 

in a shooting star

 

we are… burning away…

time travel

today I ran

so fast,
as fast as a kid
who knows she willl be airborne
any minute…

and the illusion paused

transporting me backwards
watching you walk away:
my stunned silence
a hall of mirrors

 

reflecting distortion

because I wasn’t a kid anymore.
I was me.  Now,
knowing who I am
and what I want

 

in comfortable skin.

no narcissistic reflection here,
that reflection I’m seeing
is your crestfallen
hope crumpled in a ball

 

in my stupid fist

 

holding notes passed

questions asked
giggled awkward refusals
now giving way
to adult’s ashes
 

I watch myself run…

 

this time, I’m chasing you down.

Sorry whole

sometimes I'd like to dig a hole
deep and wide and hide
between the covers of the dirt
and work, writing a letter about sorry...
I can see the paper glowing white
as the letters flow ~ bright liquid tears
erasing fears I've disappointed you
and me while I wallowed selfishly
in pitied shame... in distorted humanity.
I am insanely numb in this in-fighting
in my head...the dead of knowing that
you hurt...and I hurt, so on I work
in my sorry whole.

reply

it was everything I never wanted:
staccato on a page,
haltingly painful brevity
stopping just short
of feeling like a fuck-off


it made me wonder more.


so I proceeded,
carefully
tiptoeing through your mind field.
giving what I hoped to find,
with every sentence
still held breath


you would want more


sudden clarity erases doubts
as it dawns on me in your
passive impoliteness
with your gritty teeth
thank-you's:

that is everything I never wanted.