At the airport

At the airport

10 men in long brown robes

Asian

Subdued colour flows, silent

I want to follow, ask where they are from

Where they are going

Take me with you

(Originally written in 2005)

shards

It's been a hard day, but no one asks.
I understand.
We went to the park twice today, this is important.
She hasn't cried all day, and our home is tidier.
I haven't cried either.
I vacuumed.

Some days I cry. Like now.
Some days I'm just so alone.
Even friends visiting can't fill that certain void.
The one that fills when you unlock the door.
No matter the precious, countless moments I share with our daughter,
Nothing compares to you walking through the door.

And I know, I know it doesn't mean that much to you
Tired, dirty, hungry, stressed
I'm just a constant.
I try to listen, to care, to take the little one away so you can
accomplish things.
Things that would, we always hope, take a bit of that stress
away.

Motherhood is a very, very lonely place sometimes.

Lamp lighter 2

This was written after I thought blogger lost the first draft, below

Your eyes are darker today
and a smile doesn’t come as easily

I want to take down everyone and
take care of every thing
that’s dragging you down

Bring back that smiling, bright-eyed man
I love so well.

Let me be your lamp lighter

Lamp lighter

Your eyes are darker today,
And a smile is hard to find.

I want to take down every person
and take care of every thing
that is wearing you down

Maybe then I’ll be able to bring back
the smiling, bright-eyed man
whose laughter I know so well

Let me be your lamp lighter

Victim

Isn’t it great to be a victim
Why take responsibility for
something
someone else
did
to you?

They did it, it must be their fault.
You have no say, no play.
Good to be a victim.

Pass the money, hold the guilt.
I’m a victim.

Snippet of creation

Pale eyes, tinged with time
Looking back, through dreams
Then forward, to death.

If he asked
I'd say yes.

Hands of mine

one dog bite scar cuts over a vein,
raised,
running to my fingers, or back again.

fingers whose joints flex too far the wrong way--
years of basketball left its mark.

the mark of a tomboy--
chewed nails without any polish or shine,
just one more part of me left abandoned to time.

Inspired by a post by Ghost

Who is this...

Who is this I see
glaring right back at me

A tired, twisted old soul
Driven by the pounding rhythms
echoing from time long gone

An old soul in this new body
Hot, sexy, desired
Unwanted

Look beyond the skin
Slide your fingers under my eyes
probe depths of material
covering, shielding, housing
one small soul

Ageless
Infinite

Me

Innocence floats to the surface

as eyes drift shut

I love you

might not be enough

Skin

Where
does
beauty
begin?

When--

He comes to me in sunlight
Light brown eyes squint to see me
Lines crease his cheeks as he smiles
A cool kiss is placed gently on my forehead
A work-worn hand strokes my cheek

--I know I'm loved

Walls closing in

Concealed, crystalline, spherical
One woman, curled, coaxed
One mind, corrupted

As passions crumble and drop away
One withered mind screams for change

What follows
is yet to come

The bus

Thud

Crunch

Splat

Squeal

Crack

Sigh

22

22 days left at most until
a new beginning starts again

my nose is buried in a corner
everyone thinks it's so easy
but it's not

all the jobs I see look boring
taxing
dumb

I hate the start of beginning again
what if it means I can't go to Spain?

But this company now is getting me for a steal
no benefits, low wages... of course they'll keep me
for as long as possible.

But they aren't treating me with the respect a
potential valuable employee deserves

Anyone need a bumbling idiot?

Victorian boy

This also started out as a rough draft, but I'm leaving it as is for now. Maybe better words will come to me later. Either way, I am going to write more about him, for release more than anything else.

We met in the fall
At a drunken bash
The cool of the floor seeped through us
As my boyfriend lay passed out under a pool table
Your girlfriend wasn’t there

One blanket, one pillow, the only two left conscious
The night we met
We slept
Side by side

Saw you again at new years
The party in the warehouse
We danced in the wee hours to keep warm
Slow circles

You kissed my cheek
I kissed you back

My boyfriend had his back to us
You didn’t have a girlfriend

A party this weekend
I think of you.
Haven’t seen you in 4 months
I dig around and find
That you have a girlfriend again

Why am I down?

Shattered

Trying to get some closure on this weekend which was the lowpoint and very nearly the end of our time together. Initially this was a draft, but I'm not going to touch it. I don't like touching blood.

I find you
we're standing on the edge
of the end of it all,
and you're high.

Hooded, flat eyes glare out at me
Sullen words shot back in my face
as my words ricochet

You won't touch me now
If you weren't high, you'd pull me close
and we'd talk and listen and reconcile

But now I face a surly shell, pleased to be
difficult. Unfeeling.

The land mine explodes.

My throat is scratched dry, snot cakes
my face, my hair, my clothes--
the car seat I'm rocking in.

You remain high above it all, watching,
unfeeling.

I am alone until I can choke out
I need a hug

Warm arms wrap hesitantly around me
My nose bumps a shoulder

Our bodies are strangers once more.

Brimming bitter

An overwhelming sensation of bitterness crept under her eyelids, toenails, nose.

A shooter of syrupy Finlandia is hastily poured, hurled savagly from glass to back of throat, rejected, and drags up with it a bile flavoured chunk of lunch: pizza.

The quiver is plucked again; arrows shot deep into his eyes, his ears, his ass as the pounding tries to drag him down. He's up she's down, she pulls he floats.

The bottom is comforting in this non-consciousness.

Cure for darkness

When thoughts sink like stones through the marrrow,
and sunshine hides in fear under the earth,
clutch a pebble in your fist, raise it to the sky
and yell.

Hurl that pebble to a higher life, hear it click and clatter,
smack, tumbling, spinning down to a new resting place
and follow.

A Leaf Falls

Wish

Little Silver Dragons
Like Sucking Dynamite
Living Simply Dumb
Love Someone Dangerous
Lightning Strikes me Dead
Leaving Smarter Devils

Live Some Dream
Lacking Sense Desirous
Laughter, Spiting Death
Late, Stumbling Drunk
Leaving, She's Delirious

Make a wish.

Nuptuals On a Luscsious Scented Desert

He'll shrug and walk away.

Untitled

Craving smooth-skinned hands
to wake by

Two butterfly kisses in the early light

Tasting shadows
that mold to the curves of his neck

Watching light
dance on each eyelash
as his back flexes to meet the day

Confuddlematation

Lonely is being home on Friday night
fighting back tears
while a distant whistles in the bathroom.

Lonely is having nnnnnno one to turn to.
Lonely is slamming into someone in desperation,
trying to get inside the warmth of someone else's life
to escape from my own.

Who can understand the writer in me?

Are you out there? Not me. I'm a not-here,
anywhere but anywhere,
atop the farthest light you can see, burning.

Lonely is being crushed by your own mortality.

Consumed

I watched the skirt pull tight against the thigh--
watched through your eyes

This hair curls against a soft cheek
Your caress

The water flowing down a hot throat
Taint

Thighs brush as I walk
Fingers or a tongue trailing

You’re touching me
None of this is my own now.

Reading Jane

Urquhart
More beautiful read than said
Filthy man dozes at the back
A circle of clean around him

Shhhh, not too close

Phew.

Reading Jane,
she does
read to us
imagining we understand
we are connected in our dilusion

Filth harbours no pretense
Milky eyes roll

A fallen horse

Chin to chest, read on fair
Urquhart

Q&Awaken

Gone is the film
blue eyes in the phew
attentive to

Mad Ludwig
Father Archangel Gstir
One bell tolling in the wilds

Itwillbe

Beauty is in the mind of the beholder
and you are refreshingly real.
Not hearing from you, I feel like I'm back in a tired, old world
again... how did you penetrate me so deeply?

you are nothing to me, but letters on a screen.
i cannot see how my words would get you to
do anything that you don't want to do.
i'm not that powerful. i'm just an elf.

You're right. I'm sorry. I've tainted the waters of this elven
kingdom; my words swirled red on clear, poison.

In many ways, I'm still such a child, scribbling, curling words around
and around, with no thought for consequence.

Light the match.

October, 2004

Haven’t I fallen enough?
cries the atheist, dropping to his knees
As his love’s suitcase
bumps
angrily
down the stairs.

Spirituality in the News

Sensationalism paraded around as fact
Horrors relayed without blinking an eye

"At least four hundred and twenty dead
in Iran today...and investors worry that
currency troubles could lead to inflation"

The body of an eight-year-old daughter
lies in the dust,
just one more father robbed.

What is gone, other than breath?

A life, a spirit, departed
or trapped by tears,
tangled in the grief of a father
who slowly twists
down
to the dust.

***

Do these fact-twisters, opinion-shifters believe
in more than flesh and bone?