Archive for the 'poem' Category

12
Dec
12

Straight up ahead



Straight up ahead, look for me.
    You can't possibly miss.
I'll stand where you know I'd be.       
       
       
                            [posted for Sara as of date written]
       
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11
Dec
12

As Composed



As composed as I will remember
myself to have been, my glass eyes
staring straight up past their light
far into the timeless reaching skies,
who will know the fury of my flight?

As composed as I will expect
my face to have been, my stiff lips
frozen on their final vow, their warm
outlasting a breathless moon's eclipse,
who will feel my vision's frenzied form?

As composed as I will cast
my will to have been, my dying touch
relaxing its hold on their white sheets
to spill ink behind me, a poem as such,
who will break the spell my word completes?       
       
       
                            [posted for Sara as of date written]
       
04
May
12

Why Words


        Why did my words
        make it back alive?
        And not you? not you?
        nor you? nor you and you?
        
        Words are my new clothes.
        Back there I didn't use them
        but danced naked shamelessly
        and sang like in the beginning
        before everything had a name
        and got all dressed up in words.
        
        Only from your words
        do I now remember you.
        My words are a storm.
        Only from those that aren't yours
        can I tell who you're not.
        Our words cross.
        I can tell you apart from each other
        by which words you choose.
        
        Why do I remember you
        by a verb, not a touch?
        Why can I remember you
        by a noun, not your eyes?
        Why will I remember you
        by a word you've pronounced,
        not by an unfamiliar voice?
        
        David reads me every word.
        His voice cracked the dense dark
        to clothe my world with your word.
        He named each of you by your word.
        He gave you life by your poetry.
        He made you dance in my dreaming
        by the nuance of your song.
        
        I don't know you.
        I have only memorized you
        from what he has read me.
        
                Why word?
                Why not what I had
                back there before I heard
                or spoke it out aloud?
     
02
May
12

The Two of You


        There are two of you, aren't there?
        The two of you, to an only one left of me.
        That works. Don't we fit comfortably?
        
        I used David's pen. He had to be at work.
        I wrote you on the palm of my left hand.
        Allan took my right. He'll understand.
        
        I pressed my hands tight together palm to palm.
        You to him so close made cold skin sweat.
        Does that mean nothing? I forget.
        
        I rubbed the two together. I made you two pray.
        I mixed both hands' letters up inside my head.
        Love, words they made up said.
        
        You they tell me I'm supposed to have known well.
        Allan, not so, though already more than a name.
        Why do I see the two of you the same?
        
        I held my hands close everywhere on me I could reach.
        My feet, my hips, parts of my back, both breasts too.
        Nowhere was memory of you.
        
        I held my hands close everywhere on me I could touch.
        My thighs, my shoulders, all up in my hair.
        New you, I felt so everywhere.
        
        I held my hands close.  Everywhere on me I could scratch,
        I found a scar already there. Do any match yours?
        When all else dies, love endures.
        
        Your name.  His. I wrote the two of you on my hands.
        They're both blurred now. I held you to my eyes
        in tears a lifelong friend cries.
     
01
May
12

Protected: For Allan

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27
Apr
12

Not Enough


     Not enough dark to fill the night I left behind,
          not enough cold to take up the void I dropped,
               not enough pain to make it feel real again,
                    not enough heat to burn off the shame
                         of not having the strength to fight
                              to stay to know to die to see
                                   to touch that singular
                                        turning away I
                                             should have
                                                  done to
                                                       be.
     
24
Apr
12

Help Me Cry


     See but those thick clouds go scattering.
     This storm wants to pass me on by.
          Rain sure does me good
          nowhere near as it should
     when it can't even help me cry.
     
     I wanted the flood to come take me down.
     I wanted to drown, I won't lie.
          Of most consequence
          is what makes the least sense
     when no heartbreak can help me cry.
     
     I keep looking every which way half expecting
     I'll miss it. What's wrong with this sky?
          Have I lost all control
          to burnt visions I stole
     thinking vision might help me cry?
     
     My sky oughtn't be so quiet and empty,
     at least not like my doctors imply
          to be needed to heal,
          when the cure most ideal
     is that void that would help me cry.
     
     So I'm damned if I sacrifice nothing we'd save
     but then saved if I let myself die?
          It sucks I'll not get
          my face one bit wet
     by a drama that can't help me cry.
     
     Come back! Black horizon, come back to me
     in the fold of a sunset bled dry
          of all meaning, all gain,
          all compassion, all pain,
          all intention, all that's sane,
          all that raises its eye to the rain
     on my own alone to myself to help me cry.
     
     David's here with me, been so all along,
     so I'm told. He won't tell me why.
          But how can I give
          him what death had to live
     through to get love to help me cry?
     



formal attire

short of breath

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