Tuesday, December 30, 2008

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.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

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

Saturday, December 27, 2008

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

Friday, December 26, 2008

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.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

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

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

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.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

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

Thursday, December 11, 2008

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

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

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.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

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.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

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

Thursday, December 4, 2008

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-

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

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.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

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....

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Take a Swing.

The door swings both ways
You know
(you would)
but I’m going to go ahead
and oil these hinges
because I’m tired of cringing
in the middle of the night
hearing them creak
wondering whats left
for you to break
because you’re always right
on target
when it comes to shooting
through these sheets I’ve wrapped
around me like the egyptians do
and oh they could learn from me
on how to make the dead
look alive
look a lie
and I think sometimes
I’m mummified
You stole my brain
Straight through your soft lips
Sliding out like a sigh
Cut my heart out
Threw it aside
I probably handed you
The obsidian knife
And here I am
Wrapped in layers as I lie here
Lie about falling downstairs
About knowing that you care
So instead I’m going to oil this door
Shine it smooth
Crawl back into bed
And pretend that I’m dead

One day, you wait.
I’ll remember how the door swings
At some point even clipped birds
Learn to take wing

Bar None.

I met him when I was
Leaning back in my chair
I was singing laughing
And then he was there
I decided that I liked him
Because of the way his hair
Got twisted in his fingers
And he scuffed his shoes
Like he wanted to linger
So I pulled up another stool
(you’re a fool a fool)
and told him to sit a while
because hey who doesn’t want a smile?

and who wants simplicity?
(oh pick me pick me)
i'd love life to go in major keys
but i keep hitting these notes in minor
and im just a coal miner coal miner
looking for, hoping for a diamond

He left me at noon
When the sun was blazing bright
And he shrugged and hoped
I’d be alright (be alright)
but he had to go
Don’t you know
That some men aren’t made
For this life of trust and musts
So here’s a fair trade
I’ll leave you the memories
And all I’ll take is me
I let him walk away
Because, hey, why make him stay?

and who wants simplicity?
(oh pick me pick me)
i'd love life to go in major keys
but i keep hitting these notes in minor
and im just a coal miner coal miner
looking for, hoping for a diamond

puppet/puppeteer? They're called Marionettes.

i look at you and i see
what you could be
one of my other lives
one of my many lies
you could be
you could be happy
with me
without me
we could pretend
that you could depend
on me
but you see
its just not reality
because i look at you
and see one of my other lies
one of my many lives
and because i love
the thought of you
uncaught
unstained
untamed
i'm going to keep walking
going to keep talking
to my self
leave you there
in your haphazard health
living in straight lines
cause i'm a straight faced liar
and even if i gave you wings
you're no high flyer
so i'll leave you here
keep walking
closing the door behind me
for someone else to find me
to look and see
the life
the lie i could be

i promise i could make you happy.
i swear on inconsistency.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Flight T261. Now Boarding.

i'm holding this sign
because i hate the sound of goodbye
how it sounds like 'you' and 'i'
but is twisted warped broken
into something thats anything but good
everything in me is screaming
this is not what life should be
but the numbers don't lie
and that clock face is pointing to time
so i guess im going to try
not to choke holding this sign
knowing I can't blur away goodbye
no matter how hard i cry
so i'll crush my fingers around this cardboard
watching you disappear into the airport
a mime caught in this cage
of fate's making
and no one taught me
where to find the key
to unlock these lips
unshackle these feet
run after your coat of dark blue
scream don't leave me
i need you
so I'm standing here
holding my sign that says goodbye

for every front there is a back
on the other side of that bitter truth
i've written words just as true
holding my sign taht says goodbye
and i love you.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Fire and Ice.

i quote frost
letting the sharp syllables fall off my tongue
plink plink
to shatter into the pavement
to melt into small puddles
and you go spashing through
not knowing these words
i think i know enough of hate
to say that for destruction ice
is also great and would suffice
and oh you would suffice
for me
because even this my frozen tongue
touchs my warm fingertip
to then trace your identifying symbols
amidst my own
wrapped round with a bent circle
and everything in this world of mine is broken
and yet i find hope in this
that some say the world will end
some say,
the world will end
and who knows perhaps another will
begin
befriend
me and take me away
because i think i know
i know enough of hate
and oh i have tasted of desire
and hold with those who favor fire
bring my burnt fingertips
to my frozen lips
and tell my heart

the world may perish twice
first in love to begin again
this is the truth in fire my friend
and then in bitter ice
as hate rises to sweep the scene
the world may only perish twice

i quote frost
as you walk by
splashing in puddles
unaware.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Fly Away Home

I'm going to stand at this window
watching the sky like a road
watching the light of a thousand planes
hover in the black like stars
watch with hungry eyes
press my fingertips against the glass
and build clouds with my breath
as i whisper as i pray
-come back alive-
all these lines of light in parallel
shooting through this thin pane
this thick pain that crowds my lungs
sealing off my pores
leaving me a cement statue
keeping her vigil
all these parallel lights
parallel lives
places that i could should be
things i could would see
but tonight theres only me
at this window
watching my heart fly away
and i whisper
and i pray
-come back alive-

I taught my heart to fly
taught my soul
and now I'll wait here
teaching myself to pray.

You forget the value of a heart
until it flies away.

Friday, November 21, 2008

one hundred.

this is one hundred.
the tipping point into something new
some place i have not been before
and oh its a strange new world
that i've reached step by step
a thousand slips of the tongue
to slide safe at home
to stand secure and open the door
only to find a universe beyond it
all these syllables and signs
this symbolism and these sighs
have pulled me a long
side step side swipe
wipe your eyes and keep moving on
this is a hundred
and not the end
you were one i loved
and now a friend
there is a difference in truth
a change in trust
i find however
that where i was standing on your toes
(getting in your way
slowing you down)
waltzing as you carried me
life never quite looked the same
a bit of a blur
as to where my world began
and yours ended
now i live on my toes
the world is a dangerous place i know
but you are the one who was
and i am the one who is
this day is one hundred
this is my day of declaration
my hundred definitions
of who is me
who i am
the tipping point my exit
the place where i dicover
i have finally gotten off
your planet your perceptions
your passive love that caught me like a drug
and now im free
and this is one hundred
ways of saying liberty
of me defining reality
this is one hundred
and i know me.

I have many miles before i am home
many hundreds before i am known
but the journey of a thousand thousand thoughts
begins with a hundred poems.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Why don't you...

shoot the messenger
stick him with the pretty darts
pour tranquility into his veins
be merciful and let him fall

no one wants to know the consequences
of their actions
their muscle twitches air expulsions
that odd force of motion
exiting somewhere between their tearducts
and their ears
all these orifices
with which they-the pitiful-
attempt to challenge fate
warp it -unknowing all- to their desires

so shoot the messenger
before he grasps his doom
Helen is gone
and the war must go on

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

20-20 window to the future.

pinnochio. pinnochio.
i'll keep you on your toes.
tiptoe. tiptoe.
barefeet
splashing through the wet concrete.
and we'll watch the rain fall
catching on your curls
sliding off my smile
and its you and i
in this chlorinated depth
magic water beings
listening to a thousand kisses
break the liquid skin
hearing the remnants of lightning
they carried with them
in their grey bags of travel
crackle along the edges
and oh you are glowing
and oh so am i
welcome to this
our rainy day
our one day hideaway

and we wonder
why we haven't done this before
where we could have been
if we had discovered we were friends
years ago.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Why Physicists Should Not Be Counselors.

she said
why does it hurt so bad
how does love go away
how am i still here hurting and hurting
when he said it would be here always

and he said
its all a matter of physics
the law of conservation you know
(if he thought his life mattered
he should have conserved his breath)
matter cannot be created
nor destroyed
you said you'd loved him forever
well then it was'nt created
would you say love was matter?

Of course it matters!
(she wasn't listening really
concentrating mainly on translating
her explosive hiccups into oxygen
becase somehow breaking your heart
does something terrible to your lungs)

he decided to ignore the anomaly
in the meaning of matter and proceed
"well if love is matter
it cannot be destroyed
therefore it must still exist-

Doyouthinkhestilllovesme?
This is just a phase.
I mean, everybody fights, he didn't really
mean it when he...

He cut her off
it was easy because she was crying
again and air was losing
against the salt slick of her face

"Well matter can change of course
look at radioactive decay
things are always changing
being lost, remade...
it seems
that when love reaches its half-life

half-life how do you have
a half-life of forever?

it depends of course
but it seems his half of the love
is gone (he kept talking over
the sounds that came like retching
as she ran out of tears and air)
when matter decays that left behind
is different, changed
and it is this concept which explains
the hurt bitterness and despair
because love , which is matter
cannot be created or destroyed.
hmm you could hypothesize that..

At which point she introduced Newtons law
in which his action produced a reaction
and her reaction sent him stumbling
down the stairs and out the door

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Round One. Retaliate.

i hate walking through this mist
feeling each droplet land on my face
impacting to a sheen across the skin
drop by drop
it outlines my form
until I am blurred into something else
something foreign- some water creature
defined completely by this element
in which she moves

it reminds me of you
the way you constantly throw thoughts at me
small phrases slight glances
and i feel them bending against my skin
hammering against each other
hemming me in with your hidden
strings of sentiment
hidden till you put them in the half-light
like you do
and i see you have been tying my hands
binding my feet
blaming me for backing away
and still they come
landing thick and heavy
till I am trapped in your eyes
playing the role of cruel Beauty
like I'm speaking a foreign language

i hate walking through this mist
wondering where your next trap.

Nine are mine. 24 to you.

hello dream
do we want to try death again?
i can't decide which is immortal
you or me
whether i'm stuck in this
Grecian subway
always hungry always thirsty
for lucious truth beyond my lips
smooth warmth beyond my fingertips
or whether i am mortal
and you are are the deathless one
because no matter how many times
i put you under the knife
here you come again
coiling rough round my eyelids
prying them open
and diving deep
through the clear center into
the places i never want to go again
but still you drag me along
by the retina
through this horrorland
that is my secret hope
gone wrong wrong wrong
wring me out
leave me limp
upon this pyre we've built
because i'm sick of it
both of us will burn

Thirty-third's the charm.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The Giving tree.

i'd like to plug you in
like a respirator
in in in
out out out
and i'd never get enough
of you
pour love down my lungs
sweet and heavy
and it seeping into my veins
in small strong bubbles
that bounce and bend and stretch
me till i am grown
some glorious thing
rich and wonderful and flying
lifted up
because your love
and these mundane things of earth
like gravity or grief
exist on different planes
different universes
and in this the law of matter states
that you are all that matters
and i'm in a hopeless state
of delightful dependance

because without you
i can't breathe.
sick sick sick
sore joints and swollen
i keep walking
because i dont know what else to do
and you said you would make me strong
that you would carry me
well how about that...
i'm still walking.
nice try superman
but i've got enough words of my own.
believe me
if they were worth anything
i'd be rich.
but i never found that shaking air
did much at all
moved flags
flap flap fall
through the gunpowder clouds
into the mud that is red not brown
congratulations. you've done it now.
changed lifes
oh yeah. sure.
like the fanfare creates the parade.
im a constant stream of background noise
and currently im drowning
sick sick sick
im out of breath.

and you say
baby you look so blue.

Still think she's the Joker?

i have blood on my hands
dried beneath my nails
that old rusty colour
coated over with the bright red
of freshly oxygenated liquid
and if they ran the scans--

which they will
after they wrap me in those
cold silver hooks
and tell me about silence
and my right to it
that is where i will laugh
loud and long and with a tinge of cyanide
until they supress me
repress me
slid the silver slip of sanity
under my skin
and force it (unwilling) in
to spread and combat my slippery blood
and subdue me finally to somnolence--

they will find that
this blood is no stranger
to these hands
that it slides inside these veins
familiar and unquestioned
that silence was the weapon
that stole this life from light.
and that compliance was the accomplice
that the killer and the victim
are laid in the back of this squad car
while the officers discuss the yellow tape
and mark the lines of do not cross
across a life overflowing
with others words and worlds

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Side Effects of Strength

cradle me in this chaos
this nest of sharp edges and rough things
that break my skin
i carry a thousand silver casts
stretched to meet the solemn skin
that ripples at the junction
and you say that i glow
i decide to disagree
with my colder harsher face
that these days built for me

and i wonder if spiderman hated that suit
hated the way it bent around him
made him stronger kept him moving
wished that somedays
it would just be him
him and the frail cotton of common
with nothing to hold him up
so that he too could fall
who knows
maybe he loved his synthetic spine
to be propelled along with the force of nature
as though nothing could stop you
nothing could break you

i take delusion like a drug
popping my pills of positive thinking
washing them down with a good draught
of forgetfulness and faerie tales
cause no one loves reality
we'd all rather live inside our heads

in our heads
where i wear the cape
and you wear the mask
peel it back in the rain...
and we all know what comes after

but i'm here
in this cradle of chaos
you and i and this fragile spine
me and mine and all this space
between you and yours
and oh it aches
these silver scars stretching over this broken skin

and you say baby you're glowing
and i say baby i'm going

salt stings me
i am silver all over
i am strong and silver
and oh its over

i wish i were broken. instead.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Relationship Royalty.

i'm the queen of the throwaway comment
that bounces back against the rim
of your ear and falls
like the newspaper balls
you transform into game winning goals
screaming as they tip over
into the empty pail
and these sounds circle the edge
and slide off to the side
lying scattered on the floor
piled on their predecessors

I'm the queen of the throwaway comment
and you
you're no environmentalist
leaving them out and about
to decompose in the dust
and theres a toxic buildup
you'll never notice
sinking in my syllables
because i can't give much more
and soon the sludge will stick to your feet
and you'll fall flat into
all the times i told you so

I'm the queen of the throwaway comment
see them drifting around your feet in piles
I'm the queen of the throwaway comment
and you are the king of denial.

Well?

i'm flying through these photographs
tracing the river
down among the rippling green
watching the wind
through the clouds
and where it throws them haphazard
in the way of me
the secret silver tube
streaking through this sky

beep beep buzz
the radio is calling me
sending its waves bouncing
against my careful cranium
rearranging the atoms
like grains of sand
and one day you'll build a castle
with what you've stolen from me

but now i am still free
still fighting gravity
unaware of this your felony
this my undoing

i'm looking through this landscape
dodging these skyscrapers
wondering what kind of creator
would leave these thousand craters
these thousand traitors
amongst the million dreamers
who've fallen asleep and can't escape
can't explain, can't restrain
these awkward awful expressions
of terror and tension
what happens when the world
gets an extension
and stretches beyond the horizon
and now nothing can surprise them
they're dreamers in delirium

and i'm tumbling too
from this crazy rush of youth
into the craters
patriot or traitor?

no one told me when you stole my heart
the alarms were dead. you got inside my head.
took my walls and windows apart
took my fear of falling and made it fear of flying

no one told me living
felt so much like dying.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Lyrical lies

i'm listening to the lies leak
through the radio
behind the static of your voice
these lyrics are driving me mad

i'm not going to be your umbrella
(ella ella)
i'm tired of being left in the corner
quiet in the shadow
till life gets rough
tired of you shoving me small
in the edges of your mind
then stretching me wide
hiding beneath me while the hail beats down
letting me take the rain
asking me to deal with the pain
not even asking
just pressing your little buttons
expecting me to react as i always do
cause i swore that oath
to be there till the end
but you know what?
i swore that to my friend
i'm not sure who you are anymore

I'd like to help you fly away
but for now i'll just tell you
i promised i was here to stay
and i won't turn my back on you.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Dream 'Ware.

no no
i can take this. could do this.
not that. not this.
not it crawling off my fingertips
not it in motion
oily on my skin
slick and sticky and sick
and its roiling in the ridges
of my cold fingertips
stretching it self thin
small tentacles that grab
these plastic keys coiling round them
like a snake before the crush
then sinuous as can be
disappear
and i never knew
never understood where it went
that sticky evil that's coated my mind
it grows at night and laughs loud
and then moves
and now i know
now i know what this is
this last step
turn of the screw
twist the knife one more time
its been crawling through these plastic keys
into the door i'd give anything to lock
been letting itslef in

did you notice the first time
your fingers turned grey in the light?

because i know now
that you wake gasping in the night
with the faces before you
and your hands empty and aching

i thought i could do this.
not that. that you too bear this.
i'd take it back if i could
i would i would
take it down with me
into the dark it loves so well
and leave us there
both it and i
the culprit in this
your nightmare and mine.

did you notice
the first times your fingers went grey?

Reflections on Reflection.

Which to be? A diamond in the rough
Or a pearl among the shine
Which is the treasure of today
To gather upon self
the many layered realm
of opinion, perception
glimpses of the sky
until you yourself are a
great heavy mass
translucent trapping light
and throwing it back with the oily tinge
of all that you are made of
all the other thoughts you’ve wrapped around yourself
Or to compact your own thoughts
upon yourself
under the weight of the crushing crowd
holding only to your convictions
to congeal upon your conscience
till hard beyond believe
taking light and breaking it
into its own segmented teeth
its own rainbow truth
with your sharp sparkling edges
Which to be? The capsule of your age
Or the internal reflection of yourself?

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Disaster Zone

i am the cleaner woman
with the pink pink tongue
and the chapped hands
because that is what i do.

mess mess
in aisle three
guess my breaks over
it broke up
we've got another heartbreak
in aisle three

grab your mop and get to work
catch those cracks
careful warning
sharp edges here
its slippery
on the edge of heartbreak
on the edge of hell

and hold your breath
this bleach is bitter
clear away the evidence
raze and burn
chemical cleaning
thats the way to go
cause these scars are here to stay
might as well clean
the filth away

heartbreak on aisle three
i've got to go
because i am the cleaner woman
and that's what i do

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Lover.Dreamer.

layer up. lay her up. there out of reach. a porcelain thought. untouchable. lest she break. shatter. into the thousand movie images you gleaned her from. into a million beams of coloured light. light not fire. because she won't keep you warm. i'm here to warn you. but to you i'm the spectre. spectator. don't make a spectacle of yourself. in jealousy.its not your place. in the face of her grace. in the grace of her face. and you'll keep her safe. this dream of yours. dream girl. that you go dream whirling with. and i'm the unwelcome alarm. pulling you back to earth. so layer up. its cold outside. and it's time to go.

so say goodbye.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Autopsy Report.

never knew it would feel like this
like my fingers are broken
long flower stems
snapped
left hanging
on green shreds of skin
limp and loose
lumps that are useless
hard throbs of pain

never knew that it would feel like this
like my feet are gone
lost from the ankles
tree roots dug away
abandoned
rotted clear out and empty
shell-like nubs of hollow mold
meaningless
holding nothing up

i never knew that it would feel like this
like a shattered spine
paralyzed
lightning struck
can bud no more
left a gigantic scar
across the horizon
a flagrant warning to what comes
of stretching high

i never knew that it would feel like this
to be helpless
and to love
which of these crimes is worst
one begets the other
to love
is to give hostages to fate
to be helpless is to learn to love
and this is me
no hands no feet no tongue
split and silenced
by the horror that is helplessness
to a heart who loves

Call it a crime
and call me convicted
but still i swear
i never knew that it would feel this way
to be helpless. and in love.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Miss Manners.

never smile at a crocodile
never lick your lips
when first meeting a fish
for tis not good taste
to picture him in chili paste
while you sit to talk a while
manner manners
learn to cross your T's
and dot your I's
never cross your eyes
nor show your knees
and never carry banners
stand with grace
don't speak out of place
and most of all
don't risk your face
by smiling at a crocodile

Saturday, November 1, 2008

if.

if i didn't see you tomorrow
if tomorrow i was gone
i'm not sure what i should tell you
i know that i should say
that its alright its okay
that it was my time
and how time flies
when youre having fun
but i'm not sure if these fingers could do that
if i could turn my back and say
its laright its okay
part of me knows
that i am a child of this earth
my toes grip this dirt
and i cannot let go
i'm a fighter.
they'll tell you that
those men in white coats
with the dragged down skin
around their eyes and mouths
the skin stretched by hours of reaching
to catch these flailing hands
they'll say she is a ..
no they'll say was.
she fought hard.
and thats how you'll know
that dangerous little twist of the tongue
that drives yesterday from today
that leaves space empty
space i used to take
but if it comes to taht
i don't know what i'd want to say
i'd say i love you
that you made me
who i was
but that the parts of me
taht were only me are gone now
not to worry what you gave me
nothing can take that away
so they'll return
with the scent of me to keep you warm
those thoughts and sayings
the time we spent together
i gave you them
you gave them to me
and thats going to last forever

so if now is my last today
this is what i'd want to say.

i love you. i need you. it will be okay.
the past is for the future.
its my gift for you this way.
be strong. be happy. and don't forget to say
i love you.

it will be okay.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Will she come around (go around) ?

i do know what this means
these series of small words
this surface babble
and the silence that drifts between
like snow
piling up at both ends
and oh my ears are cold
but my heart is colder

because a doctor
watching the first symptoms
of a disease he's studied all his life
and knows to still be fatal
no matter how he tries
that to see these signs
in one he loves
shakes him to the core
and turns him to the door
with nothing left to say
to give

i carry a degree in distance
won my doctorate
in the science of grief and goodbye
from the University of the International Airport
and these signs are engraved on my memory
like the list of things to do
during a crises
and i'm afraid we are in critical condition
so here's the problem with this ICU
i can't see you
and this voice only stretches so far
so i'll let the silence say goodbye
and spend my last breath on
i love you.

Monday, October 27, 2008

P.S. i love you.

and i told you once
in a postcript
on one of those little letters
that i would write
and fold tightly
to slide between your fingers
in the passing periods
laughing a little
because we were in such a rush
and it made it feel secret
like something hidden
to touch fingers in the crowded hall
of bumping shoulders and bags
that we slipped fingertips against each other
and smiled
without breaking stride
i told you once
that i was going to have a small house
full of soft things
thick with cushions
without a sharp edge in the place
and there i would sit
with my poetry and pillows
safe
and you did not understand
or if you did
you said nothing
in your note that replied
on paper with ragged edges
and that was more rolled than folded
with its creases rough breaking
through the words
like a road map or veins
the hard veins on the hands of old men
talking of todays hero
some song singer
who drove his voice raspy
in search of meaning and pain
and i understood your traveling
your weary feet that pushed on
for the next sand strewn mecca
looking for something that will plunge your soul
for some heady moment
into meaning
into eternity
and i understood
and so let you go
with only the whispers
to follow you on your path

in my home i dreamt
i was not alone

there was a door that opened
and a door that closed

and if you knew
i'll never know

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Runaway.

Run run run. See him run. He runs fast. Like something unreal. From a film reel. A fish being reeled in. desperate and fighting. For breath and survival. And you know that this. Is my last chance at revival. Because mouth to mouth won’t cut it. This fishing line trap. All I’ve got to hope in. is the chance that you will wrap. Your soul around me. Like a canvas from van gogh. With its explosive colours and deep gashes of darkness. Dear I am the one. Behind this skin. Stretched so tight. You act like it’s a mask. Cry take it off. Take it off. And I cannot. Cannot let your fingertips search through my hair. For the secret string. The spring to spring the trap. To send me sprung. You keep saying. its so easy. That truth comes easily. And I can’t untie my tongue. To say. To weigh down. These dreams of yours. Tell you that this is truth. This which you don’t. won’t. see. This face is me. There is no lie. Just me. Casually choking on the words of goodbye. Because time wrapped me up. In this fishline. And this broken face is mine. See her run. Run so fast. Out run time. Well that won’t last. She knows. Do you. That this goodbye is true. I’m going gone. Can’t come along. Wrap your soul around me. And say that its okay. I’ll not and laugh and tell you. Too late too late too late.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

goodbye.
for now.
for as long as now is now.
now is now is now.
sieze the moment.
now is the end.
now is now is now.
don't say hello.
no is no is no.
there's a road ahead
i must go.
must go must go must go
no is no is no
but just so you know
i love you.

now is goodbye.
for as long as now is now.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Love.Drive.

i'm running a love drive
give love
give love
five minutes of your time.
give love
and you could save a life
piling it up in bags
translucent and heavy
with sticky sweet love
and one day soon i'll drive away
and you'll be here wishing you
gave love
because every time you
gave your heart away
thats another life you saved
so
give love
give love.
save a life today.

Definition

you used to know me
and i you
but now my careful insides have become yours
these hidden thoughts and dreams
have wrapped around your tongue
and i cannot unwind these words
and the sight of you coming out of shadows
and i must play traitor to this soul
and fight the invasion of identity
because if you are i
and i am you
and you knew what i knew
i'm just beating you to goodbye

because no one stays
when they realize that
when i say
i love you

i mean...
ineedyoutostayforeverlovemelikei'myoursholdmeinyourthoughtslikesomething
preciouslaughatmewhenigetlostandspendaslongasittakestofindmeremindme
thattheworldisbigandidonthavetofixittellmeaboutyourdayeventheboringones
beokaywithmecryingletmeholdontoyouinscarymoviesandtakecareofyouwhen
youaresickineedyoutobehereandsaveaspotbesideyouformebecausethatswhere
iwanttobeforeverandever.amen.

and anytime now
you'll be standing up and leaving

what?

i have trouble believing
when i hear you say.
i'm not going away.
i am here to stay.
because.
i love you.

and i know what it means.
i've been saying it to you.
for years.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

catch. and release.

Blow me a kiss.
send it striking up my cheek
like the attack it is
whistling through the air
like your backhand
and i'm one abuse victim
who doesn't think its her fault
because nothing i could do
could make you love me
could force this union
between your lips and mine
your skin and my bones
and i will tell you

you are beautiful

you smile
as if i were a fool
and say of course
and so are you

you lie
against the way my skin stretches
in the midst of this fabric
and i am yours again
because no one believes
what they see
its what he sees that matters
and now you are the one stretching
pulling back from me
gingerly
a surgeons hand unsure
if the operation will hold
back your way oth the door
and turn
to blow me a kiss

i tried to catch your love
but i missed.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

a little bit longer. and i'll be fine.

i'll try
but you won't understand

what these firecrackers
in my brain
are saying what they mean
i can describe it
but to you its like a story of the stars
you can see the distant lights
but these constellations
that glow so brightly in my head
their vivid shapes
are scattered dots to you
far far away
pretty
but powerless
like the tiny lightbulbs
we place on the christmas tree
to murmur how sweet
and then flip te switch to let real light in

i don't blame you
what good would that do
i'm just going to keep trying
because talking is better than crying

any day.

Friday, October 17, 2008

second thoughts.

and you said
she said
im coming home
im going home
and it is tall and white
with a strong roof
and small plants along the walls
where the dirt meets cement
and learns which of them will move
and i have a room
with colour and substance
that sits coated over in memories
on the wall and ceilings
with words to remind me
that you never know if you can fly
unless you take that first jump
and i've jumped
now im flying home
thats what you said
she said

and here we are
on this patch of earth
where dirt rubs against the marble
and the blue sky stretches stern
with memories in the stone
and an angel with broken wings
holding a carved bouquet.

you said
she said
she was fine.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Stream.

if my world were black and white
your eyes would still be blue
because when i think of colour
its all based on you
two shades darker than your hair
the opposite of your skin
and the world is defined in terms of you

one day this frozen city
will thaw
and you can be king
and I'll ring the bells
the people will wander onto the streets
and wonder what this means
and why the stars are blazing so
and you
and i
will know

no no
talking gibberish
dreams on my fingertips
leave my clumsy
can't type straight
can't think
wait
come back

its all a mess
this message in a bottle
i'm going to set afloat
send out on this cement sea
spinning through the traffic
looking for a environmentalist
to pick me up
turn me out
into something new
recycle. renew.
i thought. you knew.

i thought i told you...
one day when the sky was blue
i thought i whispered
thought i screamed
though i threw those words
against the telephoto screen

i thought you knew...
i love you.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Anticipatory Grief

The mourners in their black
and blue bruised eyes
walk down the wet pavement
slicking it with salt
for the loss of the living
for the dead that they can not follow
yet.

she cries
for the businessmen in their sharp grey suits
the ones that would look at you
like something unintelligble, substandard
and inform you
if they bothered
that they do not cry
have not since the third grade
and then they will grow tired
and look at you with all the weary disdain
of men who must fight for their value
amongst the decimal places and conference tables
and never quite win
but only do not lose

she cries
for the girls in red heels
that drive through the pavement
intent on leaving tracks
on this cold hard world
the ones that when younger
a week or two ago
wrote their names in the desks
wrapped around anothers
to give them weight and meaning
but now they are old
and grown
and know that they must make their own way
because that is what the other faces
told them
the faces of these women
who forgot what that meant
in the rabblescrabble of commerce and equality
they've become common and erasable
and these girls in their heels
do not want to become them
so they pound the pavement down
ignoring the small pockmarks
that their predecessors have left
rushing down this same road
in order to get there (where?) before it disappears

she cries
for the old old children
hooked up plugged in
weighed down with the world
that pours through their ears via those small plastic plugs
that carefully block everything else out
those wide eyes
that are swallowed up in the flashing pixels
of another series of someone else's dreams
or nightmares as the case may be
but it keeps them quiet
and thats what matters
so they walk and talk
of kill rates and racing times
and practice their own small conquerings
that mean nothing and fade
within the day

she cries.
is there a tear not worth crying?
we cry for the dead.
she cries for the dying.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Artist.Assasian.

i'm watching these strokes
layer upon layer
watching you blend them
adding magic with touches of sound
the perfect words
to bring out just that shade of gold
that was resting behind that beam
and you are telling a story
and painting a picture
the magic is neither in one
nor the other
but the whole moment
the whole glowing realm
that surround you and your quick fingers
you and your silver tongue
strong hands and deep eyes
and you the bright beam
are the pulling force of all there is
pushing time forward
heartbeat by heart beat
and spinning the world on
you're telling and singing of beauty
and grace
talking of love
teaching of forever
i'd be your student
pay my tuition
with my weight in love
but i'm watching these strokes
too carefully not to see that
whatever you are painting
it is not me

so i'll keep walking through this gallery
holding my head and my heart
in careful careful hands
a quiet series of parts
that stumble jerk-knee through the door
and into the forever of alone

Girl with Wings.

she was an anxious child
each motion an abrupt dance
cut off by the one that tumbled after it
and there was grace in it
an explosive jagged grace
the type you see in killing beasts
she was one of them
but young stil
not quite aware of the stretching body
that throbbed with something
a physicist could say potential energy
but a poet,
a poet would see Helen
or perhaps another Boadeccia
a father would shake his head
in awe and fear
at this thing of beauty and power
that rested for a while on his shoulder
but would one day soon
find what those anxious feet were for
she stood
with fingers flying
hips jutting and swaying
a thousand photographs in a moment
and she'd still escape the frame

this is the power of the young
all the propelling tomorrows
and no heavy yesterdays

she dance stepped back into the car
and shot a straight black streak
down the highway

Thursday, October 9, 2008

in.sane.

out of sight
out of mind
i'm screwing my eyes closed
sealing these wet eyelashes
they were heavy anyway
and im going to climb into this darkness
freefalling away from you
i read some where
that everything falls at the same rate
so i'm going to jump this cliff
before you finish those silver slick words
and you'll never catch me
because me and these clouds
we're one and the same
old friends
saltwater always falls in company
and baby i was never alone

guess you would know
whats her name?
the one that was sun to my moon
because you could never do it alone
how did you make it
those minutes lost in travel
from one open heart to another
did the demons creep in close
or were you too fast for them
speaking of speed
watch me fly

and i'll never hear those words
sliding through your lips
like iron to a magnet
bullets to a target
and i'm tired of being lit up
by these little red dots
aim squeeze fire
and i won't shoot you down
ause what goes around
comes back
and i'm going to choose beyond
instead of being trapped in behind

so before you say goodbye
im gonna catch this flight
and these familiar seas
that spilled from me
they'll catch me at the bottom
and teach how to swim again

out of sight. out of mind.

they always said i was crazy.
now i see i was just blind.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Fear of Falling

i was climbing a ladder one day
and the world changed
instead of scaling upwards
it stetched across empty air
balancing horizontal
on a topsy-turvy world
and i was perturbed
to say the least
clutching the polished bars
that were the only trellis i had
to keep from falling into this world
of cannot-be
the trees went sliding by
green blurs of a comet
with brown tails showering
rocks and dirt like stardust
and the bricks creaked and quaked
bending back and forth
like that jello
we used to crush between our teeth
until it was liquid soft and sweet
and sticky red slipping through our lips
and then they collapse
sliding in a bright flood
through the rolling streets
picking up lamp posts along the way
that toss about straight up
still glowing
like the glowing masts
of some sunken ship that even the ghosts have left
and it came rushing crashing down towards me
shreiking against the silver edges
of telephone wires
that suddenly shone sharp
and cut breaches i nthe red rush
that swallowed them up
even as they sliced it into liquid portions
and i threw my own voice into the crowd of noise
screaming thin and high
wrapping my extremities around these golden bars
while the wind whipped my hair
into a blindfold and gag
and then i fell.

They asked 'Are you okay?
why did you fall?'
and i said "i forgot that i
cannot fly"

so they walked away
and i wondered which world was real.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Ask the Greeks.

I'm caught in a world of demons and decoys
and i don't know what I'm fighting for
running for a silhouette 
to get away from these shadows
my feet get stuck in this sweetness
its eating away the soles of my shoes
giving my soul cavities
and the only part of north i understand
is no
so i'm spinning on this compass
a wreck waiting to happen
in these corridors of black glass
and someone told me once
that things tend to continue 
in the way that they began
its a law they said
and i'm wondering which would be worse
falling this tailspin into the ground
or wait for the cops to come and pick me up
carry me none too gently
to the white boxes 
that they stack one upon the other
with arrows pointing 'this way up'
and 'no way out'
might as well keep sliding
across this phantom landscape
a fugitive who can't remember her crime
except that once she was a bird
and now she has no wings

Should we shoot a tragedy
to put it out of its misery
or let it play to the bitter end
applause applause my friends.

Monday, October 6, 2008

superficial security

can i borrow your sunglasses
the world is too bright today
i need to see the crosshatches
that divide your reality
into black and white
force everything back into ordinary lines
and remind me about gravity
i need those thick rims you carry
that cut out all those rough edges
the parts of the world
that you don't want to deal with
the sharp sparkling parts
that keep others at bay
unless they are willing to bend
under the radar
keep their knees caved over
spine wobbled
till you deign to notice

can i borrow your glasses today?
i can be blind
and you can be me.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Call Disconnected.

I'm reaching for you
through these narrow wires
Can't you see me
My fingers squeezed so thin
like shadows on a wall

And you can't hear me
Don't turn around
Walk past this swinging reciever
cause all thats coming
is the dial tone

and maybe today's the day i realize
we all grow up alone.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

love song.

the stars were going dim
hiding from me
like so much else in this world
the details that make life worth living
were lisping away
everything fading to shades of shadow
and gray

and then you arrived
re-wired the constellations
taught them to shine again
throwing your light into the gaps
connected them in ways i've never seen
and baby we're so close
to living in our dreams

cause when i see that smile
the eges of my world bend
curving in tandem
throwing me and you together
in the minumum point
skin on skin and dream on dream
this must be what forever means

Because when you lean against my hand
everything straightens out
and we are two edges of a point
shooting straight into infinity
as to what's beyond
between you and me and this song
we've got it easily

when i saw you
you threw everything into focus
my heart into spring
straight from winter
and i cant stop smiling to sing
so i'm just writing it down
waiting for you to come home

because im building us a castle
and your making it our home
here in this ordinary suburb
we're taking camelot to shame
ever since the day you came
and took my breath away

Thursday, October 2, 2008

And the answer is?

and she said
arent i pretty?
aren't i pretty?
and she meant
do you need me?
do you need me?
and there are words
and there are meanings
and rarely are they exactly the same
but rather like the difference
between stained glass
and the shadow it casts
one so firm and coloured
with its careful metal letters
spelling out the sounds
and the other stretching across the floor
wavering
in the multilayered light
with the grit from the day before
pushing through its surface
and casting its own shadows
wherever it finds time to fall
and sometimes finding that other side
gets messy
breaking through those wrought edges
into the watery wealth behind
its dangerous to push those forms
to risk stepping out of that frame
into the water world of real
where truth sweeps your feet away
and washes your soul clean
in a great rushing flood through your throat
that explodes like light
through all those clogged up words
all those times you said 'fine and you?'
when you were reaching for a rescue
and suddenly you're sparkling

"Am I pretty?
Am I pretty?"

"Yes. I need you with me."

Monday, September 29, 2008

The Problem of Panic

i woke with the curves of my organs
crushing against each other
in a rush to make a straight line
invisible and thin
to fall through the cracks
and escape into non-being

you too have felt that way
the gravitational force pulling you to ground
urging you to vanish
before you are banished
with the cold finger and laugh
that can take the form of anyone
but almost always the face thats in your heart

still the promise of peace rings true
echoed in moments across the day
and one day i will learn
to string them together
weave them strong and thick
wrap that rope around my waist
and keep climbing 
out of this crevice i've thrown myself into
towards something that looks like
something like
light

do you want to come with me
face of my heart?

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Superpower

c-c-c-call me what you please
on the phone
across the road
down the hall
i'm just another sillouette
in this world of shadows
but when you
give me a name
my own just for me
you give me form
fill me in with colours
hold me down with weight
tie me to you
and gravity
claim me as your own
some thing called into being
and meaningful

be careful what you call me
not all fairy tales end happily

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Work of a Poet.

She scrawls sentences
On scattered scraps
Of paper
Inscribing shreds of soul
Indented in the looping lines
That slowly fill
With rivers of ink
The scraps are piled high
A veritable mountain
An anthology
Of points of view
Each a pair of eyes
Looking eternally
At a portion of the horizon
That unreachable dream
Quivering in the sunrise
And unraveling slowly
Against the half-light of twilight
Each scrap sketching
A face of its own
The face that floats in
The restless dreams
Of a nation
She writes gilded mirrors
That startle people
As they see their eyes
Looking back
From the looping script
Their eyes
And that horizon
Edging away from their dreams
Their face
And the face that haunts
Their softened moments
She sighs a scrawled line
And lets the scrap slip
Sliding silently to the ground
Another snippet of soul
Safe in the shelter
Of the written word

Be Not Afraid.

The closets hang open
Leading to the cold magic
Of who I make myself to be
Soft and gray
Choose your grave
Today
I don’t believe in mysteries
In cloudy possibilities
When I leave these swinging doors
I’m who I want you to see
Whatever I choose to be
Impossible to ignore
Unless today that’s what I’m looking for
Life will kill you
This I know
The only question is
How much decay you show
So here I’m dancing
Down your weary street
Daring all the death in the world
To come with me and meet
My shields of silk
Swords of savvy style
Face me here
In this mirror
Where my faces laughs mocking
Beneath its lace locks
And lovely layers
Let death come at me
I know my grave for me
But when you come
When you find me
In my own soft grays
Shut the doors tight
Burn my hidden magic
And teach the young girls this.
Death comes
Through wall
Through lace
Through mirror
Death comes
Be not unprepared

To grasp.

To soar or not to soar, herein lies the chasm
Whether tis the purer chance to wait
Out the long and lonely imprisonment of fate
Or to strike out and flee its grasp
And by fleeing risk the heights. The heights-freedom-
The dawn, and a new life to grab hold
By the throat and a thousand new sensations
To breathe in and delight. The heights-freedom
To climb-perhaps to fall-aye there’s the terror
For once stepped beyond there is no reversing
And gravity’s dread grip may claim a soul
And end a life. That’s the fear that holds
Here in this mockery of life alive.
For those who passion and power
Would drive them hence and to freedom
Yet falter at the lip this round edge
Upon which hangs so much and I
Who balance on the ledge dare
Dare i? To brave the reaches of air
Which no man has like me climbed
To laugh at death and dash against the wind
This is a well-tempered terror
That keeps me meek and mild in this room
This room of walls and no doors
But only this window –and the heights
This fear doth grip hard and long
And many tho young and strong as i
Grow pale and choose the stiller course
While the wind sweeps on in mockery
Oh freedom o heights o death
I lose the impetuous at this height.

Remember Orpheous.

was walking today
And wandered into a fairytale forest
With overreaching trees
And grass just longer then the shadows
It was two birds short of silence
As they sang just beyond the leafy horizon
I was startled into the first smile
Since grey crept from your hands to my eyes
And in this new world
Felt that I too could fly
I with the broken wings
And quieted song
Could also ascend to safety and beyond
Into the realms of brilliance that only lovers claim
And with that thought
The feeling swooped within me
And settled cement cold in my stomach
The chill rose among the cloudy vapours
And the birds were silent in the face of my sorrow
Till only a snapping branch dare mock my reverie
With an echo of the sound that broke my future
Into a thousand red pieces across the woodland floor
Another sounded and the leaves whispered at the sacrilege
Whispered ‘Remember Orpheus’
And so my feet did not flee
But slowly steadily walked towards the green light
Though my heart ached to hear the rustling dust
And my eyes drowned in the desire to turn
Turn and run into the arms that would never hold me again
I pushed on past the soft flowers of spring
And over the rocks still cold with winter
Never letting slip my head that longed to see
The phantom hope that was behind me
Two steps more
And the light poured in heavy sheets
One step and the shadows fled at my feet
They came up above me and swarmed
I could bear it no longer
But spinning saw
Your beautiful beautiful face hoping
And twisting into a scream as the redsmoke of your form
Blew away between the branches
Leaving me emptyhearted yet again

It has been two years since the echoing blast that rent your heart and my soul
One year since I went wandering in the wood and lost you yet again
This is the day again
And I shall not miss your coming
But run, running with red, to meet you
Upon death’s dark walkway

For a Texas Sunrise

If I could write you into a postcard
I would small words slip
In thin black ink
Like a thousand photographs
Into cheap plastic sleeves
I would slit the thick cardboard
And slowly inject the liquid life
Carefully and precisely
Sharp lines to outline an enigma
And curves that if you follow-carefully-
With your eye include eternity
I would use tall letters
Stretched out against the blankness
With the importance of a city skyline
A beehive of lives in one black streak
I would stack slanted strings of sound
One upon the other
But always leading-elsewhere
As though to pull from the hungry eye
To the feet
Till even the casual postal worker
Four minutes into lunch break
Would find himself staring at the streetsigns
That cross pointing into the horizon
Looking for the answers that lie there
Along some solemn street
That –at midnight- knows my pen
And hungry velvet coated feet
The ink in this portrait is still wet but potent
If I could write you into a postcard
In crisp careful letters
I would blow it dry-sign it love.
And address it here.

Bring me back

The mailman was at the door
When I answered it
Fingers smeared with chocolate
And my hair screaming
‘I don’t care’
while I pressed out the invisible wrinkle
in the clothes meant to remind me that
I was invincible
That I was beautiful
Which is the same thing
As any woman knows
And he noticed especially the latter
Paying the dubious compliment
Of an elevator glance
While he pushed a small package at me
And asked me to sign my name
So I threw my identity
Up against the page
With a quick scrawl of pen
And a grasping of the brown wrapped box
So he backed down
While I turned into the room and
Ignored the turmoil
That I had been creating and destroying
With a spotless corner
That stretched shining arms out from it
Amidst the stacks of photographs
And home videos that lay scattered
The package was going on one of the piles
But I remembered that I had canceled
All my plans
-forever-
so I took it and tore it open
more to tear at something
and watch it peel back in my hands
than to see what was inside
and when a cd slid out
I put it in
Mindlessly
With the automatic gesture of a cashier
Saying ‘have a good day’
And hit play and then again
Because there was nothing there
Or so i thought
Until there came a voice through hthe mesh speakers
That I thought I had chained up forever
But there it was sliding through that grate
As if there was nothing there
-don’t turn this off
please…
you told me once
inside of every lie theres a touch of truth
inside every song a story
I’ve heard a thousand times
That a song can save a soul
So I’m throwing this out there
Hoping it will remind you
what it was like to be whole
Remember what it meant
To have a hand that fit yours
A shoulder meant just for you
And a voice that answered the phone for only you
Oh baby come back please
I’m throwing this into the void
Hoping that in this song theres a story
That you simply can’t avoid
Because fate is real and it is true
And it stole my heart to give to you
So come home dear
I’m waiting here-
And even as I threw my hand towards eject (reject)
The notes drew chains around my fingertips
Caught me and held me
Pulling me through the melody
Back to how it used to be
When I believed in forever
And you believed in me
And we were not two
But one and I was won
My heart and soul by you
So I threw the clutter down
And I raced me to the door
Down the stairs and on the street
Because that’s what love is for
To give you fear and wings
To teach words that could be lies
And make them true instead
So you were still playing the last chord
Of your last shot salvation
When I came flying through the window
To remind you what love was like

Friday, September 26, 2008

Pop pop pop to the top.

All's fair in war
backstab
stab back
but in love
its all about the fare
how much will you give 
for that first heartbreak
and remember 
one heartbreak is a tragedy
a million is
a million is a pop song
and you've got to catch the beat
because you know thats all you need-
Love- or something like it
its as you like it
have it your way
as the Kings say
and if thats what they
*ba ba baa*
I'm lovin' it
cause i've got a wit
to launch a thousand quips
and Cupid was made for this
cause cute is what he aims for
and with skin i'll win
this game
Love is just a Risk
gambling on the dice
over the technicolour map
of this small world
and don't you dare close your eyes
to these glittering surprises
because diamonds are girl's best friend
but lovers could be heroes
and heroes aren't that naive
love may give you wings
but Icarus knows
how that goes
as we're tumbling screaming freewheeling
on this trippy hormone ride
and baby all we need
is a chorus
and all the world will adore us
because what's between us
and I don't just mean lust
is worth a million cardiograms
as fate carries us along
over the cliffs of insanity
as for you and me baby
we're a hell of a pop song.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

what to do
when breathing is forbidden
when your heartbeat
is convicted treasonous
your lifeblood
a sacrilege 
what to do?

i've got to live.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

birthing pains

i wake up wrapped around the world
warm and strong
with it resting secure in the pit of my stomach
my legs pulled up to build a wall
while my arms trap heat around 
this soft tender globe
andd all of life is in it
all the stretching future
of pulsing thoughts and actions
persons places things
all the nouns and dreams of
the thousands of years before me
and i claim them as my own
imprinting them with my face
my voice and words
my flights of passion and own dark fears
claiming it as i wrap around it still half-unconcious
as my responsibility to defend 

and the the cold air comes in
sliding along my skin
and outlining me
a solitary form
cut off from all the world
by thousands of thrumming atoms
that are cold as they force space between
reminding me that lonely i
and this teeming world
are two foreign things
and of the two
i am not great
nor even worthy of the same sentence
but only a vague perchance
in this midst of this clearcut reality
that future worlds
i dreamt would come from me
springing forth and singing and raging and strong
were out of my hands completely
and not of my concern
nor i of theirs

so i ot out of bed
built my own layers of individuality
in oclour and texture and cut
and stumbled forth
like all the other dreamers
who in their half sleep
wrapped themselves around the world
to love and protect it in its weakness
only to be stripped of even its dreams
and left shadowless
in this world of black and white

what a wonderful
terrible 
thing
to be a mother of dreamers

hope.

today i sit on the ceiling
feet pressed against the cement walls
slotting my toes in the crevices
and i am okay
with the tension
between gravity and i
the battlegrounds are clear
i am triumphant
with my spine burrowing into
these tiles that keep me from rain
while the ground waits lonely below

and maybe i don't have wings
but i'm still winning.

maybe thats what life's all about
finding the fairy tale ending
in these concrete caves
with nothing but the grit of gravity
to keep you going


Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Electra. Its Complex.

I'm ragingly infections with anger slipping from pore to poor and sweeping through the nations. an infraction of the highest nature its me against mother nature and all her denizens and demons her angels and angles all her green and gold and dank and mold and i am rank and wild a summers bouquet in the dead of night winters frost in autumns bite cutting crisp edges into the shadow and chewing the ice till my brain freezes over -- like a dark deep pool that sweeps and gurgles to itself in its small shelf of being pressing against these small shells that dream that they are a border on the salt sea and i am the mollusk in the pearly sheen that creeps and crawls and leaves its own sticky shine across the grey green mold. this burning acid that glows around me like a candlelight to start a forest fire and i am the rolling wheel that shatters and splinters and throws her brittle words into the air like icicles falling like rain collapsing from dreams to dust and muddying the ground in its brown blood and rolling and turning over and again a heaving mess of crust and cracking skin and flesh peeling and curling around my feet staining them red i, i look down and say thats a good colour for my nails. and go on calling out- life come out. come out and play. i want to see what you look like today. you haggard thing. withering corpse. what shall we play. and are there rules? i be the king you be the fool...not to your liking nothing ever is so come give your girl a kiss, i'm vicious and cruel and i learned it from you. aren't i darling, aren't i sweet? you're the one they're afraid to meet. i boil with rage and let you slide through i'm the one with a fever and they worry for you. i am death, life's daughter. and love was never mine.

to be read in as close to one breath as you can make it.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

sometimes i must confess
i turn on music 
to drown you out
the type of music that was not yours
that you would never listen to
that has to do with careful fingers
crawling up and down strings
not fluttering in a spasmic explosion
but measured and calm that piece by piece
build something that seems solid
that celebrates its solidity
instead of your sounds 
which riotously tear themselves apart
collapsing at the end in a long  discord
that leaves your teeth on edge
and your soul in humble admission
of meaningless mortality
i instead flee deep among these proper chords
where these careful notes sculpt themselves
in order and precision
doing what i wish i could do
building firm walls in the midest of this plain
wehre nothing stands
because theres nothing to stand on
and they don't let that bother them
just go about their own way 
building their own world for themselves
and i am here crawling in through the windows while they work
hoping to cower in some corner
from the tumbling rush of who you are
in all your true glory and destruction
and i love you i do
and you tear me to pieces
these are true
and brilliant shining pieces of glory
in all this great gulf of life
but one is not more than the other
and so continue to be
perhaps if one day
one can cease to be true
i can survive
but you dear one don't even know these truths
only go hurtling on your comet way
pulling and pushing me with you
the fiery blaze in your wake
both beauty and pain
that is me
in love and in silence.

sometimes i try and hide from you
in my music
but then i realize 
that you're the only one that makes it
come alive.

Monday, September 15, 2008

tani

do you know how sometimes
they ship things
that might grow
in ice
wrap them good and tight
in layers of water and cold
and then scratchy fabric
stretched around the base
like saran wrap that bulges over the edges of the cup
to keep everything inside
and somewhere along the line
someone took cold cold hands
and shoved them through my ribcage
carelessly as if 
these careful bones that keep me safe
were knotted roots in stubborn ground
grabbing my thrashing heart
like picking up something
slightly unpalatable but meaningless
that you dont even have to think about
because it's not quit that important
and shoved it in a tank
of water that twisted and hardened
itself around what was left of me
while all the things i recognize
in the mirror or the windows
drifts away from me 
weakly flopping on the ground
and i think bla bla bla
and am confused
but then cloudy
and more so
as the water sharpens around me
tying me down in quick little filaments
bitter and brittle and strong
and i am numb remembereing my own contours
only vaguely like a street sign
you used to pass on your way to school
but never really read
because it was foreign
and not the way home
and then they pulled me out 
from the dark and the dank and rarified air
and threw me into soil
like a package 
that the owner hasnt yet claimed
and so may be treated as they like


Sunday, September 14, 2008

love you forever.

it just hit me

(like stepping out of the door
where the windows are warm and moist
into the teeth of something that shrieks
and strips your heat to the bones)

that one day i'll be the face
in those old pictures
that little hands
still sticky with the chocolate
you always carry in your pockets
"for a rainy day"

(you didn't have any 
two weeks ago and an hour
all that were in those depths
 were your hands
as if shoving them in the dark
wouldn't let me know that they were fists
and shaking)

will one day point at them
and with small lisping tongues
ask "Daddy

(oh that hurts.
to realize that that dream too
was strong even though silent)

who is that?"
and you'll shrug and say

(like you were talking about
a sweater you outgrew
or a bad habit
silly now because it's been conquered)

"A girl i used to date"
and they will find it strange
that his eyes that follow her 
around the room so intently

(the way water follows
the stream bed 
as if there's no where else
it could go 
i know because that used to be me)

once watched another
and secretly not believe it
because the way things are 
is the way things always were
and always will be
this is what youth teaches you

and then life teaches you
that love leaves
and you grow up
into a photo on the back
of some stranger's yearbook
signed with xoxo4ever

Thursday, September 11, 2008

hope dangles on a thread.

i stood in a crowd of dreamers today
they were watching the sky
craning their slender necks
upward
like foreign creatures
poised on the edge of flight
that if the light fell just right
they would be off and gone
and i didnt understand
what it was they saw
they were staring and reaching
with one hand only
and the other wrapped in each others
like some delicate engine
pushing them upwards and inwards 
and i 
i wwas gripping only a pen
like a weapon
the slender muzzle of a gun
pointed no where
at no one
they were holding flesh
and i
i'm poisoning myself on love songs
driving them through my feet
nailing me to earth
stitching them to my shoulders
like broken wings
and leaving myself a broken wreck
scraps of hopes and dreams
that weigh me down instead of lifting me
like they are lifting each other
and one by one
they are gone into the sky
leaving only the white sand 
and me
with an ocean of ink
and a bullet of pen.