Rak.

i say goodbye like its a foreign tongue
dazed with the heavy heat
that comes and the day wears on
with our shadows stretching thin
across the pavement
thats hidden under these rippling waves
that wrap around my ankles
and send threads of sweat between my toes
i wonder
why they never touch
our shadows that grow and grow
like long black vines
shooting along this grey cement
thats what i'm thinking of
when you bend down one last time
and whisper against my hair
that you'll come back
it's not like forever
i don't even hear you
just feel the wet of your face
against my cheek
still i cannot move watching
over your shoulder wrapped around me
our shadows still and how they blur
how they break when you step back slowly
and i somehow make the sounds after you
like a clumsy child following her teacher's lead
good...bye...

i'm weary of this strange tongue
i can't dream when you're gone
so i'll be here in this shadow
until you come home
to me.

identity

i wonder sometimes
if i am like a balloon
which punctured at one point
of failure
falls all to peices
and implodes

honour.

to e e cummings
mortuary of the dictionary
snickhacking your way
through these synapses synopsis syntax
and quickstitch them back together
like a mixed updown sky
of spring and storm all to once
and you talk of death
like a lover like a god
and of your lovers
like a priest like death
and throw haphazard my eyes
hungry like a desertcenter in the middle
of winter without snow
like poetry without soul
and you the upbringer of form
leave no phrase light of meaning
but throw even darkmidnight
bright and hot with scintillating blades
of some searing sense
that my tongue may not know
but some wetshock between skin
and red bone quivers to like waking
dreamlike to truth known already
and i salute
i who am about to die
taking this steplong down
the slender tube of a well
you hail you destructor of worlds
builder of temples
and causeless worshipper of many causes
hail for hearthurt and birth-re always
new and crisp cummings king of his craft.

Perception of a Common Commuter

everyday i see less sanity
walking along these streets
and you standing there
might well be a poster child
child that you are
screaming out your warnings
of panic and global warming
waving your hands about
like a directors
and doing nothing with them
what are they that would direct but not do
they are nothing
and so i continue home
to straighten the books on the shelf
and to close the door tight
after tucking the small key
under the new swept mat
the world is nothing to me
and i cannot do for it
but only in these small spaces
perform small graces
with the quiet prayers to
the familiar phrases of praise and peace
i see less sanity every day
looking at you the young one
i can't believe your state of mind
stretching to swallow the cosmos
with your jeans ripped and ragged
and shoes untied nails spotted with colour
small things build up
to become the whole
i see less sanity every day
and i wonder what you see in me

perspective of a streetcorner soapbox

and i see in you
something of insanity
displayed in the smoothing of your collar
while we hurtle over the edge
the way you tuck the key
under your bright coloured 'welcome' mat
that sits before your war-zone of a home
shelled out from the windows in
your caution to say happy holidays
lest your quiet celebration of something
to do with tinsel
offend anyone, skies forbid
and the way you shine careful
your black no-nonsense shoes
before stepping out in the streets
flooding in refuse and despair
the despair of those who have been refused
i see something of insanity
in you
in the way you look at me
politely smile while you disapprove
and walk on with a gentle reproof
of the state of today's youth.

i see something of insanity in you
and i wonder what it is you see
in me

metamorphosis

i am turning into a tree
i know this by the way that my toes
long and brown and hard
are digging into the earth
the way it tastes
dark and warm and sweet
with creamy streaks of moisture
i curl around and follow
farther into the ground
i know it by the way my legs
pale silver with little flaking curls
are bound together
how they bend slightly in the wind
and the coolness spreading
in layering swells outward
draws circles of life
from my springing center
i know it by the way my fingers
slender smooth and green
are stretching out toward the sun
sprayed with its golden heat
and soaking it up like air
how they turn from side to side singing
in motion all together
rustling soft edges against the sky
i am turning into a tree
tall and silver
warmth
wind
earth
shhshshssshhshsh

two lovers walk by
she says isn't it a lovely birch
it looks as though it was dancing
he smiles at her and agrees
because love makes everything true

i told you i would never leave you.

Time for Takeoff.

you spoke to me at twilight
about running away about being
somewhere only we know
where no one could find us
and i laughed
taking your hand and pulling you
back to the sidewalk i was sitting on
we can't
they'd never let us go
that night was the first time i felt it
the skin stretched taut across my back
and the way it ruffled
like feathers

we didn't talk of it again
for a week or two
till we came to the stop early
and the red engine in front of us
was blazoned with a faraway name
you looked at me and grinned
we could be gone
out of here before anyone knew
swinging your foot up to the stair..
then came ours and i ran for it
calling out you'll be late, tardy again
and you know you can't miss this class
you followed me
and said something
i remember now
-i'll miss more than that-
and i didn't know what you meant
now i do
that day i felt the feathered tips
burst long an inch or two
and down my arms

yesterday
you showed up at my door
waving behind the window
of that old Cheverolet
calling
get in get in
i've got enough gas
to take us away
im on my way lets go
and i looked at you
you were going, for real
heading out for the horizon
i looked at you
and i said no.

you drove away

that night i felt the feathers
down to my wrists and over my hands
strong and silver
and realized what you had done

i have these wings to fly
your love made them strong
but i never realized why
until you had already gone

turn around
i'm flying for you

a plea.

give me i need
something to make crackling snapping noises on my tongue
and a buzz between brain and fingertips
leave the letters flying off my fingerprints
another evidence of identity
as sure as these whorls and swirls
lie captured in ink these cursive characters
spill and spill and now run dry
i am grown thirsty pale and weak
for the rush the flood the blood
of words and melody
of wretchedness and remedy
something of hunger something of need
a reason to remind me to eat
to breathe
to be
lest i forget and fall into
this endless schedule of days
stepping from solemn square to the next
with numbers marching on
till i forget to what i belong to
and fall curved and crossed
where the x marks the spot
in red ink
that smells of iron and sweet
i might forget forget
what it means to be
me

underconstruction

here i am again
and i will play
again
you taught me the rules
so long so long ago
and they felt so easy so clear
here are the walls and here is the steeple
open it up and theres all the people
wall by wall
does a corner make
and of these hundred corners
can you tell me which
is not like the other
these walls meet on foreign soil
and somehow the foundation only
reaches for me anchoring like concrete
but i am nothing more than this
a frail bending of hands
againt the bitter winds
wall and wall and wall
and here are all the people
hear are all the peple
and i keep getting weaker
you taught me the rules
so long ago
how to build a house
but i never found out
how many heartbreaks to make it a home.

Wonderland.

we'll sit here waiting
for the lights to flash one last time
arranging themselves
into something of a doorway
or perhaps they are only windows
but we'll press our cheeks together
and our noses against the glass
waiting for this moment
when the future flashes free
and we can make believe that we
like the young ones
playing with smoke
making worlds out of dust
and small round pebbles
can see the future
can see that its a busy place
with many things to do and to say
and we lean back and laugh together
about how strange that place is
how foreign
to us
who live in this quiet world
of you and i
and sometimes space in between
thats all there is
all there ever will be
but sometimes we play a game
pressing our noses against this clock
watching time fly by
looking into that strange world so far from us
where people rush and scurry

then we laugh
and carry on living
while they worry
and carry on breathing

Hotel Paper

I'm sitting on this
pre-made bed
with all the edges tucked in
as per regulation
and the fabric striking
the standard as it clashes roughly
with the drooping drapes
and I'm writing writing writing
on these slips of paper they leave here
stamping their names and location
clearly, concisely
i wish i could
i'll attempt with this plastic pen
to explain who i am
what i mean and why i'm writing
and i'm failed before i begin

but what else to do in this midnight room
where the only noise is the stuttered cough
of the vents shoving stale air through
and you try to remember not to breathe
because in here theres still the trace of others
who have also sat
gingerly against these sheets
crumpled them in the heat of their dreams
and left them limp in the morning
to stumble on their way to somewhere
i don't know where i'm going

i write that down
looking at how the ink stands crisp
against the paper and wonder
if thats enough
if that will vindicate me
in the eyes of those that will follow
that failure to dream is my only crime
and of that i may be excused
in that these pillows are greasy
with the wistful wicked wandering thoughts of others
and i cannot bear to lay my head down
and let them creep into my ears to whisper
i am one who is forgotten

i write that too
and sit watching the lights flash up
against the wall and slide past
as metal worlds go on
down and down the high ways
carrying other people places that they know
and that they are known
what a strange place, thing
to be so unmasked so sure of your place
i don't know who i am

i write that down
and then stop
thinking about all the roads ahead me
all the places i could be will be someday
and carefully, cautiously
pick up the pen again
and write

yet.

satisfied i let the pen fall
yet.
that is who i am what is my worth
all in that little word
tied up in one syllable
i am still a possibility
a long shot of a win
but still i'm going to pull the trigger
and send myself spinning into the dark
because i have this to hold to
yet.
so i will sleep in this room
and wake and walk out the door
leaving this note
that begins to define me
for the stranger that follows
and maybe he too will grasp the power
that lies within that forgiving word...

on second thought i will not sleep
but watch the night wheel by
somewhere the stars are shining
where you are
i have not found you

yet

citation

I'd make a small notation
at the point in which i first say goodbye
and cite you
you taught me how to do it
how to cement your eyes
and glaze over your hands till you
are a statue in motion
how to walk away
i'll give you credit
so before i adress this to you
and make my own exit
lets make it clean and proper
i'll sign the rights to you
you taught me goodbye (Trademarked)
and left me marked for life
so here's your fee
and the last of me
goodbye

cold comfort

call me. cause im crashing.
and oh i'm a beautiful site
with the paramedics stretching white
sheets over and over and over
and it looks like snow
looks like snow..
and oh its cold here
in this place where all the faces are blurred
behind their masks their white masks
and the snow has gotten them too
silenced them with ice around the lips
so thick so thick
and i can't break through
and oh this is a pretty red
see it in its bright spots
like lights, christmas lights,
the bright lights the bright light
the one these icy voices keep saying
don't follow don't follow
don't fall oh...
i fell
and i'm a disaster site
a sight to see.

danger.

i met you and i could see
the end from the beginning
or maybe we were at the end
and what i saw was the beginning
that somethings tie my life together
twist me around and around
braid all these bits together
and you -you are the solder
burning myself into me
around you like a ruby a jewel
and i'll be silver i'll be gold
anything in your arms to hold
because you are mine
and nothing can steal you but time
because nobody here can live forever
i met you today
and saw the end from the beginning
felt you slide like a ring on my finger
as your hand closed around mine
When you said how are you
i said i do

What if you were lost.

i will be there
in the middle of the dark
walking the roads
i told you that i stole this day
slipped it off the calendar
like a jewel on a chain
and slid it into my hand
feeling the weight of it
in my cold cold palm
wrapping my finger round one by one
like the old children
the one who watch adults
and judge them
how they unwrap presents
one line of weak tape at a time
because they know
they know the wise ones
that its all about anticipation
nothing inside the box is worth this
this sped up breathing
and two timed heart
but it itself is worth it
and so they prolong it
tearing each thread of plastic
slowly so slowly
that is how i hold this day
wraping my mind around it
slowly cautiously
bending my fingers around this page
that curls in my palm
like a treasure
like something soft and breathing
and i'm spending this day walking
and waiting
anticipating
i told you i stole this day
and i'm waiting to give it back
because i know it is not mine
you never were

This is Christmas day
and im unwrapping the presents
as slow as i can
waiting for you and your magical presence.

it is the middle of the night
and i am still waiting
one day it will kill me
this anticipating.

lovebird.

i'm a strange strange bird
pinning my wings against me
fighting the wind
refusing to fly
and i'm aching to
with every vertebra
every spastic spark
in my tiny putty brain

I'm a strange bird
but when i fly
i plan to go far.

Made Known.

its the place i feel safe
in this leather castle
with its little wheels that bumpbump
along the continents
i sit on this ridged floor
and watch my life sway around me
in tandem with the wings around me
hanging from hangers folded into small pieces
and memories fold up so tight
so tight so tight
and this is the place where i am right
because no one puts down roots
when we're in the air (take off
those adjectives those definitions)
cause here we're in transit
we're in no-mans-land
because here is where we never grow up
here is where each time is the first time
to say goodbye to learn to fly
to understand what these ridges in our spines
are for-
standing like battle towers as we curl
around black holes that steal our stomachs
make us something inconcievable
into something unbelievable
a creature irretrievable in our freedom
because i'm in my leather world
bumpbumping across the continents
this is the place that i feel safe
i fit so well inside a suitcase

break and take

I’m tired of these breakdowns
-in communication-
sick of being told to tone down
-don’t make a commotion-
I’m done with these break-ups
-can’t hear you the line is-
finished with these trade-ups
-better on the other side-
forgetting these breakouts
-if I could just get free-
learning to speak out
-this is what you mean to me-
I’m tired of these broken things
-hearts and hugs and promises-
so now’s my turn to get out
-hear me out now-
I’m going to be stepping out
-the future is my own-
and I won’t drop out
-I’ve got class-
so get out of my way
-im through with you-

Chocolate Cuts.

This feeling is unsettling
startling and strange
like cutting your tongue
on chocolate
how unnatural
to slide the smooth portion in
and find that after freezing
it has broken off on an edge
thats sharp and to a point
and now theres salt and sweet
mixing coiling each other
like wary dogs before a fight
like lovers before goodbye
blood and chocolate on my tongue
thats what this is like
this strange feeling in the seat of my stomach
flying and falling
fear and freedom
this unnatural thing
something like falling in love.

Illuminate

i wrap my hand around this light
waiting for the heat to numb it
to leave it coiled and hard
bones curved and stretched
and then left dried
till you cannot unbend it

one day i will tell them
the young ones
how i fought for light
and show them this scar of a hand

they will not believe me
because there was no world that existed before them
but in the night they will dream of it
and taste it on their tongues
the sweet of clarity and the burning away
of all else but the light

the story will go on
as it always has.

Required Fields Left Empty. To. From.

today they may wonder
about the small crease in my lips
that are dark red
with a tinge of grey
where the wind has chapped them
rubbing rubbing away as though
to scrub them off my face
some stain that is stubborn
and so it wets its finger
and scrubs harder
till at last i pull away in protest
flared eyes against the indignity
people are watching
and it is ridiculous
how abandoned i feel
when the wind sweeps away
in a regal storm of disapproval
how i feel alone
in the sudden stillness
and wish to crawl into something
anything
that would give me form
or identity that too
but still i keep walking
carrying instead my secrets
salty on my tongue
they may wonder at that tight crease
kept heavy by these ivory weights

This stain will not go away
but i, indomitable, will keep it silent.

To fall in love feels like flying?

i am the bubble girl
floating above this picasso world
and oh it looks like guernica
oh it looks like hell
but it is beautiful
as these tears blur the shapes
and shades
into something that looks like birth
with all its stretching and tearing
full of breaking and bleeding
but still a thing of beauty
and i drift away
with the colours swirling around me
oily rainbows that surround me
and slide into puddles
around my sticky feet
gather at my hands
where they touch this tenuous membrane
i leave nothing but a faint shadow on the ground
like a chalk outline on the pavement
-don't touch that dear
you don't know where that's been
you don't know what that is-
and the colours roil and rage
tumbling across each other
twisting around in great knots of light
like some crystal spillage
some painters dropped oils
and they build and build
as i float away

In a balloon the colours come
as it consumes its own oxygen
when all the air is gone
it pops

I told you i can't breathe without you.
with these last gasp i'll tell you
i fell....