some winter mornings
last through the spring,
sweeping in between wind chimes
and dusting over windowsills,
until our bodies are numb
and our minds are racing
i don't feel pain in the winter time,
pain feels me,
all curled up in the fetal position
with fuzzy socks
and war paint
at the edge of my sheets
december never stings,
kind of agony
that whispers tauntingly
through the shower curtains
at 5 am and says
"why did you bother getting out of bed?"
oh and how that cold, cutting voice
gets stuck inside your head...
at least until spring takes
it's last cool breath
Darling, I'm afraid I've broken the coffee maker again.
Darling, I'm afraid that all the orange bottles are empty again.
Darling, I'm afraid that sometimes walls remind me
of either the ones you threw me against or the ones I put up around my heart
so that no one can love me ever again.
Darling, I'm afraid that I don't see stars in the sky anymore,
just a lot of eyes staring down at me,
scrutinizing me like interstellar councilmen,
knowing about every disgusting thing that I have done
when I thought it was just me and you and the peeling wallpaper.
Darling, I'm afraid that I am woven around your ribcage
like the beads of a rosary
are wrapped around the fingers of a sinner who has sold their soul
to the devil for forgiveness from God
one too many times.
Darling, I'm afraid I have to pause to talk about your fingers.
I am not wrapped around just one, but all of them.
I was hoping to bind you like a book so I could read you a little better,
but I'm afraid I've just entangled myself in a giant mess
and I'm afraid that you're a little too amused by my demise.
Darling, I'm afraid that guns shoot and so do stars,
I'm afraid that wishbones break and so do bones,
and I'm afraid that feathers float and so do bodies.
Darling, I'm afraid that I'm sorry that I cannot fix you,
because I don't think I can even fix myself.
Darling, I'm afraid I'm just
Exuberant bursts of smoke trails litter the hazy fields of battle
Where the wounded and those done suffering are a symbol of freedom
In each small entanglement and the devastations of great loss
each face may not be remembered, but their hearts are not lost
As the tears of loved ones fall hard from above
To sift through the earth where their bodies now slumber
And with each fresh release of a soul proud and relinquished
Brings forth new life in progress and the cultivation
Of time filled with lessons and blood, tears, and toil
To build anew strong, a foundation, from which to stand true
A remarkable journey of souls side by side
Comrades in a cause for which pride is an emblem
Integrity, honor, and the will of great progress
To span over lands beyond which eyes can see
In the formation of a nation strong in liberty.
Sultry dreams on hot summer evenings,
as wishes on moonbeams take their flight.
Spiraling upward to dance amongst stars,
in a glorious ballet that has no finale.
Ocean’s receding tides cool a body,
heated by a lover’s ardent touch.
With joyful laughter as the couple play,
at the edge of Mother Earth’s bath.
Hand in hand as eyes meet and cling,
hungrily beneath a brightly lit sky.
Passion ignites the fire in their hearts,
setting the embers to glow once more.
Sinking into the sand as hands and lips,
discover each other’s hidden treasures.
Excitement explodes, as love’s scent upon
the breeze is inhaled deliriously by both.
Dawn’s rising sun brings reality, replacing
love’s aftermath with lonely indents in cool,
wet sand, which the tide quickly fills and levels,
Till no sign remains, of a fantasy shared by two.
By Kathleen M. Kohl/Levinski
The Sun's not shining today
Winter casted clouds aren't allowing any light
To warm up a standing dead
Not quite as graceful as I remember it,
Back in the days when I used to hunt rabbits
With my father just to spend time with him;
We'd forgotten our guns at home on every occasion
But it falls,
Under an overcast sky
Tantalizing to the touch
Tactile, white and intricate
Full of holiday, youth and spirit
A reminder now;
Cold, fragile, weak and
Not quite as graceful as before
A perfect metaphor
For what my life has become
I have a friend in Rapid who I haven't seen
In months less than it feels
We used to build tree forts
Bridges across rivers
We used to pretend we had tremendous powers
To control the weather, earth and fire
What I'd do to have them back
Toy story was our favorite
We'd watch it every night
Later on even re-enacting it
I haven't seen him in such a long time
Maybe a foot of snow by now
It's largely all my fault
It's because I'm not sure how
I can explain to him that over the course of a few years,
He's since aged to a happy 15 and I've,
I've somehow hit my mid-life crisis
In the same time period
How does someone to from a vibrant young youth
From 15 to 54?
I'm not sure
And I don't bother with explaining
So I never said goodbye,
I couldn't face him now
"Where have you been?"
I've been attending an on-going funeral
My innocence was found hanging from a tree
I won't tell him that it was found hanging in one of our old forts
He'd go out and look for it
Make an adventure back to when we had tremendous power
I can't have that
I'd break down and cry
I'd become angry knowing I died so early
With so much in my hands
I'd hang myself coming face to face with what I lost;
Be a Doll could you,
Be sure to classify it as a murder will you?
I saw him
I walked towards him
He saw me
He smiled to me
There was a river,
separating our standing spots
I'd swim the river for him
But he'd rather build a bridge
than meet me in the water
I was lost in thoughts
I thought of him all night long
He slept at night
He gave nothing but a simple goodnight
There was a wall I built,
holding him back from seeing me
And he was not brave enough
to break it down for me
So he just stood there
and waited for me
to climb it all the way up for him
when I gave my all to climb for him
but he was not down there to catch me
when I was bravely in love
with him who was not brave enough to love me back