Can I tell you how I truly feel?
Sorry miss I would like to tell you.
That's the one thing in life I can't let you, the world know.
My eyes strain to keep my secrets,
and my body begins to tense.
Your eyes seem so bright so glossy and true blue;
your body seems so smooth that the wrinkles of life come undone.
Perfection is the example used to show what others need to do.
While someone goes to after hours on how to improve.
Taking up the time of the universe,
slowly suffocating the world of it's own oxygen,
striking down each tree with their simplicity.
Take an idea and run with it.
My eyes strain to keep my secrets;
I tell them to shush, and praise them to keep them quiet.
My body begins to tense and I squeeze it to keep it together.
Your eyes, I don't want to waste your time.
Your body should belong somewhere else.
you're the example I praise,
while I try to hang my own hat.
for the friends i have loved and lost...i am not afraid to say the last thing i have to say to a long time companion...for i know that they have and will hear me...that it is the right and perfect thing to say, because it is me and all of my heart...singing as i go along so that i do not break...
she raised me, as much as my mom and sister did, and i thought i was different...that i wouldn't crack and divide...but i suppose sometimes i am that girl...who falls apart into a ball of tears...because my nanny is like the nervous system for my family, she's just too interconnected, just too big to fail...to fall...
and we always want the fall of our heroines to be graceful and gorgeous...but sometimes it's just bleak and plain...sometimes you watch your mentor, grandmother, caretaker, great friend, nanny die slowly...though it kills you and you fight for her with all this nervous frightened energy, this what will i do without her...
so i let my heart sing...because it hears her, it knows her, it is as much in tune with her as anyone else it loves...i let it be happy to honor what she wants...it's the closest i can come to praying...letting my heart sing and joy and bounce...letting it loose to the terror of my own embarrassment...
i will miss this, i will miss you...you kept the light on in the last homely house...i know that this will break my heart into so many pieces i will never find them all...there will always be holes the size and shape of you...
Life is made of moments
Some might be just a blip
But the whole sum of these moments
Make living life a trip
The big things rule
So some would say
But, not me, oh not me
It's the blips and all the little things
The things I want to see
I need all of the little things
To make my day seem right
I need to hear a snoring sound
When I turn out the light
Having kids is bigger stuff
Than I can list on here
It's little things that I will miss
When my loved one is not near
Like now, I miss the little things
That were part of my routine
With Titan gone and just us two
There's always more poutine
We order less when we go out
there's no one waiting at the stairs
It's nothing but, a little thing
That we miss now he's not there
A simple touch, a friendly word
An irritant at times
But, in life I miss the little things
They make life's mountain worth the climb
Missing friends, their silly jokes
You've heard a hundred times or more
These are just the little things
That I am waiting for
I miss them all, these little things
No matter , just how small
They make my life a treasure
And you know I miss them all
A word, a song, a photograph
A memory it brings
I think of all the larger stuff
But, I miss the little things....
I wish Charles Bukowski was not dead.
I would love to grab a cup of coffee with him,
Maybe even a smoke.
And we could talk about our fucked up lives,
And how we fucked them up even more,
And how happiness is hard to find when you numb yourself.
Charles, I miss ya.
Let’s chat it up in Hell.
Miss Jones across the road,
she stuck a needle in her arm
to cool
a fever that she never quite allowed to
strike her down.
Her stomach; queasy upon entry
even after the one hundred and thirtieth time.
Bubble bubble
a trouble that greets her
in the fat of her veins.
The sun is too strong today.
Miss Jones, she walks at dusk,
peripheries soaked in the shade.
The moon
pollutes the sky and extinguishes the stars
like a boot.
Her rhythm; diurnal only in
the overhangs and the underhanded of the night.
Oh, Miss Jones on my road,
a carrier-bag pigeon and
the tramp
that excites the twitchy suburban curtains
and their lolling tongues.
“Stick a fork in me”
She yells at the rain on the green,
chewing on cigarette paper.
“I’m done.”
Miss Jones across the road,
she stuck a needle in her arm
to cool
a fever that she never quite allowed to
strike her down.
Her stomach; queasy upon entry
even after the one hundred and thirtieth time.
Bubble bubble
a trouble that greets her
in the fat of her veins.
The sun is too strong today.
Miss Jones, she walks at dusk,
peripheries soaked in the shade.
The moon
pollutes the sky and extinguishes the stars
like a boot.
Her rhythm; diurnal only in
the overhangs and the underhanded of the night.
Oh, Miss Jones on my road,
a carrier-bag pigeon and
the tramp
that excites the twitchy suburban curtains
and their lolling tongues.
“Stick a fork in me”
She yells at the rain on the green,
chewing on cigarette paper.
“I’m done.”
With the little rain
wash your sins away
before this weekend,
before you miss the chance.
But still, next week
it won't even stop:
what the cash bought,
'llget us flocking
past the parking lot
down the trail to our
Octopus' Garden 'neath the waves.
Maybe my nails won't grow back
and I'll be talkative instead.
Stop my choking on pocket lint,
bury the bone, unbusy my head.
Everything I do in this Modern World
supports some institution, thus condition.
Looking for passion or just something,
hafta look for what little I believe in—
not this but next weekend.
"There's a stranger in your life,"
a fortune reading tells, then
feeling my legs are useless,
can't kick my way to the surface,
can' kick one habit for a moment,
a car could carry me around then.
It's a five day weekend, no end, yes.
Best birthday bash, hands down, no contest.
Newly arrived old faces join, going to the show;
some more to come soon, some to soon go.
Tonight we revel in our brother's song,
we'll keep the day young and night long.
Tomorrow, we hope to sleep forever in a day,
catch our breaths and try to eat back our strength.
Then, Thursday.
If you bare your heart,
unless you are in love
it will begin to feel silly.
If you want to fall in love
you must bare your heart,
but that predestines nothing.
I do not know, though,
what keeps love in a home,
safe from err; face to heat.
To listen to you talk
To drive, to take a walk.
Just us girls beneath the sun.
Where we laugh and sing a ton.
No one else like you,
Who loves life and all that's new.
Who turns the song up loud
And belts it strong and proud.
You turn the windows down,
We cruise around the town.
Then to the countryside,
Where streets are long and wide.
I could go with you til dawn
If the drive could just go on.
I love that fiery heart
That I'll miss when we're apart.
But sister, you should know,
To me, you shine, you glow.
So don't you ever change,
Or I'll live you just the same.
Im sorry when you asked me to say it one last time
I couldn't mutter those three words to you
They were stuck in my throat
Choked back as the tears silently rolled down my cheek
I couldn't stand to know I was really losing you
But I honestly have nothing but love for you
And i still care for you
Even though I really shouldn't
I pretend I'm angry towards you
Because its a whole lot easier
Then admitting I miss you
Deep down in my heart
I really do hope that she loves you half as much as I did
I hope she sees the scars and
Loves you even more
And I hope nothing but the best for you
I just wish I didn't have to be around to see you moved on
When I am not even close
[or more reasons I want to slap you right across your pretty face]
upon wakening
my brain informed my arm to
tell my hand
to pick up a pen and
tell of your voice
the first time
i hear your particular vibrations
your sound waves
your signals
over the air
i almost drove off the side of the road
...now i have to close my eyes
and hold my breath
trying to hear a silent memory
stored in a recess of my mind
your voice has a musical quality
a warm tone
that i miss
this brings me to your perfect, hateful lips
(really, i could do without all of this nonsense)
this very moment my heart is pounding
right out of my chest
my jaw clenched
my eyes glaring stubbornly into blank space
release me from this madness...
i just want to get through the day
without this ridiculous longing
just one goddamn day...
...back to your stupid lips
i like shapes
and yours are the exact right shape
to taunt me
you grew that scruffy sexy stuff
just to drive me insane
i'd also like to slap you
for informing me of your jogging habit
my imagination is quite active
and the last possible thing i need
is the sun...
glinting on your hair
on your stupid muscles
i mean, seriously?
i've almost run down 18 men
that look nothing like you
because of this insanity
that has saturated my brain
my nerves
my emotions
my instincts
never in my life
have i been slammed
with such desire
knowing exactly
how to end this madness
but forced to remain still.
regulating breath.
letting words flow
trying to calm the mind.
but my body wants to m o v e .
my heart wants to explode
my breath wants to quicken...
my voice wants to escape...
my nails want to claw...
my teeth want to bite...
this is getting me nowhere...already i feel the new words coming
