The future always changes;
It never stays the same.
But I still sing the old songs
And I will know your name.
The future always changes;
It rests inside no cage.
But we have ground beneath our feet
And all the world's our stage.
The future always changes;
No compass points the way.
But roads are in the present,
A present here to stay.
Take the step
Feel the fall
Hit the ground
Stand up tall
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
He's gone traveling today,
Off to adventure far away.
I labor time as I pine
As he passes pine and vine
That I've never, no not once
Chanced a glance, a look askance.
This evening I will justify
My own choice to poetify
On his absence from his seat
And the emptiness he leaves complete.
For it is near the holiday
And I would rather he choose to stay.
When he returns, I'll make a meal!
With bread and pudding, the whole deal
He will laugh at the floured mess
Of me, my smile, and my best dress.
But, he'll be glad to know to I care
And would always rather have him here.
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 12:57 AM UTC
He is the most wonderful father.
*Haven't you seen his eyes when he holds her?
Haven't you seen them slowly amble?*
He bends again and again so she may tickle his nose with the tattered dandelions she picks one after the other all the way down
...
to the park.
We brought her home in an old Chevy truck.
I cannot speak of his wide eyes sealed on the road that day as his heart was sealed on his girls he drove home.
I know the seal is unbroken I cannot understand but I know.
The pain may now stop his gaze at inches from my pale forehead.
Separation has begun but He will be a wonderful father.
Their long walks do not inspire smiles anymore this must not continue.
Her heart belongs in the park with the dandelions and the laughter, O Lord, may this journey end!
This morning, they did amble down my path of florescent light past the winding stems of the daisies on the cancer ward wallpaper.
He will be a wonderful, a wonderful father.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 8:25 PM UTC
Speckled brow and gnarled knees
Crooked elbows, yellow teeth,
Breath that floats like infesting fleas.
Run and tear, away from there!
When you see it, its time to clear!
Fly from the rotten bully's lair!
But wait, what's this?
How can it be?
Its not a monster but a mirror..
Its me.
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 11:42 AM UTC
You think I'm tired?
I'm not tired.
My limbs are steady,
my sight is strong but...
I don't want to see anymore.
I want to sleep alone again.
Sometimes what is hard has no voices to mimic(k)
I can't tell you why
I'm not tired, but I want to sleep.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 9:53 AM UTC
Steel and grain let escape,
Settling into the depths of the woven wool,
The citrus dust of the emerging art.
"Roll the blade like an ocean wave."
The regimental wooden curls advance on my vision
As my teacher's eyes take in the familiar sight.
As they fall, my mind wanders
Wonders of the flakes - was there no music in them?
Perfunctory: "You're doing well."
Maybe I would die like that too?
The grace, the courage?
Like an arching rebel of the grain.
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 7:52 PM UTC
Flip the page
What comes next?
Hurricane or Robin's Nest?
Road unwalked
Who can tell?
Tambourine or ringing bell?
Will my footsteps
single be?
Or will he walk next to me?
Will I float
between the stars?
Will I speed in bright red cars?
What does looking
forward bring?
A glass ever darkening.
How long will
my questions last?
How long till my now is past?
Tomorrow
never comes today.
Tomorrow never brings dismay.
Tomorrow is always
out of reach.
Today has so much more to teach.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 11:06 PM UTC
i am not a diamond with a fatal flaw
i hold no fire
No awe or mystery has been brought to light by blood
in me
i am not finely carved and polished wood
i do not mull my scars
The burns have not been caked by thoughts of time
i am not green
i am not gold
not plastic (i think)
not sound nor shriek
not a breeze
not paint or clay
i am porcelain
Cold that contains warmth
memory and reservation
i have cracks that never change
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 11:05 PM UTC
I get it tonight. I'm lonely. This time I understand. Sometimes all I know is that I am sad. Tonight I have a sweeter word. Lonely. Lonely. Lone. lee.
It's beautiful, isn't it? My friends are getting married. They have been doing so for several years. If I had a writing desk and a garden, I could be Dickinson. I have a brake light instead, but hey, I fixed it myself. Along with the red clock. I fixed that too.
I'm going to spend time with him tonight. He doesn't know I will actually stay at my desk while I sit on the couch with him. My friends have gotten married.
I am not a little girl tonight. If I were a little girl, I would tell you I do not like not being one like I am tonight. But tonight, tonight I am not a little girl. So I don't say anything at all.
Why do I hurt? Not cosmically. Just what is the cause, not the justification. That's all I want to know. When I was a little girl who never dreamed she'd not someday be a little girl, who did not know what a not little girl was, I hurt then too.
I wouldn't know who I was if I did not hurt. Its burned into me. He tries to understand. I want him to run so far and so fast from me. If he touches me, it will burn him. If he touches me my burns will light up again I will roll in the flames. Immolation. Darkness disguised as beauty. The dark is deep, not beautiful. It bites your ankles unless you hold your breath but then you cannot breathe.
Where did they all go? The children I played with when I grew up in pain. They are not little boys. They never were little girls. They were like trees. Ageless when I knew them, now taller. You never meet the same tree twice.
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 11:05 PM UTC
Where do we stand? How does he know I stand with him. Does he know I don't?
Commitment unbroken, I do still rebel at his thoughts, his preferences
for me.
I do not want to look like that.
He only wants me free I only want to win my own freedom.
He does not go with a woman or a girl or a gal or a madam
He goes with the bone of Adam
If Adam was a King, so too was Eve.
She was made of King.
I will not sit quiet, I will not be still
I will listen, I will love
I will not behave
I will serve
I will not agree
I will watch
Do you know what I sacrifice?
Never, you blind fool with your face all in muck and your ears full of the dripppppppping candle wax while your fingers scratch in the dirt peeling away your fingernails.
Mirror, mirror on the wall...
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 11:04 PM UTC