practice makes perfect

she was the one that noticed

the day i went around with silent lips

pressed so tight

and slow movements

that would burst with a quick gasp

and then clamp back down

i never got to blue.

he was the one that noticed

the series of clean plates

that disappeared neat as could be

down the conveyor 

because nothing had touched them

but my fingertips as i wandered from entrance to exit

i am still not hungry.

she was the one who began to wonder

he was the one who began to worry

but neither of them knew

how long i've been dying to try it

trying to die

quick fix

i woke up hungry today

wrapped up in my sheets in the dark

with my cold fingertips against the window

and the night still clinging to the frame

i waited for the need to pass

taking deep breaths counting the sighs

to trick me back into sleep

but the silence left my mind

with too much to draw out and throw

against the shadows like a backdrop

until the day began and i stumbled down the stairs

quick to fix what of the broken world i could

if only food fed the soul

build for me.

build me something brick

and spread the mortar thick

between each solid cell

like generous amounts of honey

that falls over into a child lap

and sticks the world to his fingers

i too want the world to stick

to stay trapped

like a butterfly against this glass

till it too stops struggling

and beating me against me

and at last lies still

so that i can appreciate its beauty

its hungry dying beauty

in my own peace

in my own small pieces

and i will pace

up and down and down and down

into the dark behind my battalion of brick

and be safe and still and silent

and then one last thing

do this for me

make me a stone roof

solid stone as strong as can be

to stop the rain and sun and time

from getting in at me

and that will be all

put the date to mark the time 

and then be off

but if you like lay flowers

and cry a tear or two. 

how to survive.

they are the gathering

these small faces that make up the whole

and in looking through this dense mass

i do not know a single one

of these characters of my childhood

packed together to keep the darkness out

to send it away by the sheer strength of heat

the heat that roils around the ankles

and slides down their spines

leaving them to shiver and push closer

because it reminds them of fear

and all these beating hearts thrust

rib to rib to spine against all comers

overwhelm everything but the heat

the two exist to feed each other

a deafening cycle encircling the crowd

engorging themselves one on the other

with the double tempo sending friction

vibrating through the small pockets of air

that survive through these layers of skin

and the quivering waves of temperature 

test the strain sending stress like a weight

through the bloodstream 

and everything speeds up again

as they wander in tighter and tighter circles

each face carefully turned away from the circumference

in case the shadows are coming

because safety is in numbers

and bliss in ignorance

they keep spinning in their delirium

and i am dizzy on my own

afraid of the fear feeding from this frenzy.

poet's lament.

i met her walking down a river

i was walking up and down

waiting for something to come

i'd long learned that the wide spaces 

were not for me with their long horizons

that i need a direction pointing me

towards something faraway

and grand

the first is vital and the second

needed to excuse these night time wanderings

and as for why i am here at noon

i don't know but this

i met her walking down the river

blue slips of feet and long arms

with the fabric flowing down her form

like it loved to do it

all she had was a flower

as longstemmed as she

and it dropped from the slender fingers

into the eddying water

and swept its way to shore

i found it in my fingertips

still wet and strong stemmed

changing the water droplets clinging to it

to its brutally brilliant tint

and when i looked up

she was gone

i give you this rose

it is all i have left to give

i met her walking down the river

i need her to live.

bless me. for i have sinned.

this is my last confession

i don't expect you to vindicate me

to abjure or avenge me

frankly i don't even expect you to care

but this is my final claim

and so i will take this time

as your last gift to me

the last attempt at settling debts

i will hold these moments as collateral

and count you complete

sit and let me tell you of my sins

my stains on my soul

and the places i abandoned being whole

for being who 

you wanted me to be

and i will stand alone 

on this side of the screen

you father confessor don't have to see

the burden of guilt settle at your feet

i don't love you enough to leave you with that

or maybe too much to dare

and so dear 

before i go

let me tell you this

in one blow

my crucifixion and my saving grace

i love you

with all that i am

shhh.

of all the secrets i swore i keep

the ones i lose are my own

slipping through my fingertips

over my tongue and through my lips

like children running for base

and now  they are out they are safe

in the airwaves that no one listens to

anyway