Friday, January 27, 2012

A Little Poetry...

I used to write poems as a way to deal with challenges I faced in my life. Words poured out of me, phrases and snippets of a full thought, and I would sit for hours at the computer perfecting my emotions. As a result I have a ton of un-read poems collecting metaphorical dust in my computer. I think it might be time to air them out..

Most of these are about love and death, the least cliche topics ever... Through these poems I worked out a lot of issues I was having as a teenager and taught myself some valuable lessons. These words are still very powerful to me and ring true even now. I hope you see a glimmer of yourself in these verses...


Folded

You carried my heart in your back pocket,
A reminder before you began each day
Sweet words to be cherished forever
You folded it up and kept it close
Your gift to me was receiving mine
We found a new verse for every moment
And drowned ourselves in the words
Floating on a sea of expectations and false hopes,
We devoured time and made it empty
The years passed as the days passed
And slowly we lost our luster

You carried my heart in your back pocket
You folded it up and kept it close
It began to grow heavy with time
Soon the creases wore thin
We began to come loose

My heart fell to pieces

So where will you keep her heart?
Will you fold it up and tuck it away
Let its creases wear thin and watch it decompose
A reminder of what you could have done each day
Sweet words to be cherished for the moment
Or will your heart be the one to bend?

- February 2005
-----------------------------

Of Glass

I’m sliding, slowly sinking
Transparent and no one can see
Strong against the storm
Absorbing cold and warm
Rattle, the wind shakes me

Throw me up, force me down
Your shield, your source of light
Pull back the curtain where I hide
Stare through to the other side
Status symbol, out of sight

Pulling against the sides and top
Getting thicker at the base
Waiting for something to break the pane
Something to relieve the strain
Framed, sealed in place

Slowly, sudden strike and then
Fall to shards upon the floor
Piece me together but never intact
New way of seeing, distorted, cracked
Look through me no more

- Spring 2006
---------------------------

Coffee

You are delicious
No, I’ve never had you on my tongue
But when I inhale your scent
I taste you; I soak in your ‘ness’
Your voice through the wire stirs something inside
A memory is expelled and you are in my mouth
You’re running down my throat and warming my chest
My cheeks glow red with your tea
Your touch is cinnamon on my skin; a sweet spice meets salt
But you smell like wonderful; like real, like the reason
Bottled, you’d be called ‘Come Home’
I swallow and suck at you on my lips until it’s gone
My pallet is cleansed until my thoughts escape me again
Or until I can truly inhale your scent
Taste you; soak in your ‘ness’
No, I’ve never had you on my tongue
But you smell like wonderful; like real
The reason
You are delicious

- Spring 2006
--------------------------

Light Blue Scrap

This is the sweater
This is the sweater you said you loved
Because it brought out my
Eyes
The light blue sweater that fit my ever-growing form perfectly
You said you liked the color
And I knew
I knew you wanted me to make you happy
I wore that sweater when I wanted you to look
And you looked
I got what I wanted and you got yours
And now as the fabric rips I remember how tight this sweater fit
This sweater you said you loved
But it wasn’t my eyes you were looking at
And I know

- August 2005
--------------------------------

In My Grandmother’s Gloves

I hid her carton of Virginia Slims in the antique chest
When I was a child
It wasn’t there yesterday
They cleaned out old scarves and hats
And I swiped a pair of off-white gloves
Moth-eaten and singed between the pointer and middle
She’d wear them on the back porch, hiding
They still smell like her
And as I exhale new life upon them
Long, slender, white and mine
I hide them away
So my mother will never know and
I’ll smell like her
One day my grandchild will take them for herself
And the promise will never be kept

- February 6, 2007
------------------------------------

2012

A lifetime of family, worship and labor
To spend eternity in a brown cardboard box
Raised high in honor on a shelf along side
Hundreds of ancestors
Bones ceremoniously rested on styrofoam blocks
Undisturbed
Offerings to the Gods carefully placed in sterile containers
Pulled from the ground to be glorified by strangers
Mapping out a history that’s not theirs
Passage to the next world
Detoured
Layers of tradition peeled back and placed horizontally
Thousands of years of joy and pain categorized
The afterlife displayed
Appreciated at a price
Items made invaluable with time live out their sentence
In limbo
With secrets exposed for no purpose other than
To preserve what always was
Living, breathing texts survive
Past existing in the present
The mystery solved but the search continues
Civilizations scattered across the globe
Under glass
Predictions of the end printed on a postcard
Mass-produced replicas of patience and skill
Deserted cities silent with the voices of educated ignorance

- 2007(?)
-----------------------------------------

Seconds

And I cry because there really isn’t anything else I can do
Search through the photo albums a thousand times
Try to read the faces and place them in your history
But nothing can convey the person you were like your own voice and
Second-hand stories can only take me so far
It could have been different
I had the time to ask the questions
To pick up a phone and have that conversation
To let you tell it like it was
But in my mind there was always another day, another year, another chance
But like you said, we’re only here for a minute
With no time to spare you told me
And you said just because you had it didn’t mean it would have you
Maybe it was just the end of one minute
And the beginning of another
But when the second hand reached the top it wasn’t the cause
I’d like to believe it was just your time
It was your time
And I can only hope that your next minute is spent in good company

- 2006 (?)
--------------------------------------

Roll Me

Roll me
Press up against my back and stick like glue
Keep my spine straight and move me forward
Lift my hands, my voice, my eyes
Balance me out and raise me higher
Float me over the mess and bring me down
Dancing as you swing my limbs
Loosen my hinges but keep me tight
My neck collapses with my eye lids
You hold my chin as I roll
Shove me in and heave me out
Grip my tired hands and force them up
Rock my hips spontaneous
Roll me
Feel the weight of my body and fill me with air
Turn me sideways and bend my vision
Wrap yourself in me and strut
Take me off, put me on
Carry me left, right and center
Twist my breath into fragments and wait
Watch me sway and linger, drop and crawl
Guide me back to neutral and roll me out
Roll my shoulders past my knees
Roll my smile to the small of my back
Flatten and inflate
Coax me to my feet and stay
And just above my shoulder hide
Until I roll away

- (???)
-------------------------

There are many more but I think I've shared enough for you to get the hint; I'm f-ing crazy. At least I was, but thank god I worked out all this crap on my own. Saved my parents a lot of money on therapy!

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