a plan has no significance
determine what comes next
but determination is only a hand
to hold during walks in the snow
a garden trimmed and abundant
sits in the backyard surrounded
by fences. the begonias
underground thoughts rooted
and cling against the pull
picked as leftovers press
in the novel on the shelf
built in my heart. Open
pages marked for reminders
windshield wipers wave as
summer drowns in the rain
cardboard boxes steal clothes
to be forgotten by routine
hide them in the back of
picture frames behind the
glass of new grins
Open the gate of the garden
and hold on
to the zinnias
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
left from misplaced lovers
lead many different lives
capture the trinkets and
hide them in the bottom
drawer until spring
cleaning once a year
a time capsule of could haves
and should haves
in the heat of the dual
we want to pass the necklace
to his hand or drop it like
a love note floating into
a grand canyon
swimming in the deep blue
of blue jean pockets
until a deep sea diver
finds the treasure
selling the metal for some
change will not put a red
sold sign on his forehead
for another to take away
i put the key to my heart
on a chain under my pillow
so i will not lose it while
you are away
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
Dedicated to my dear friend Jordon Dinneen
So many thoughts linger in my Atlantis mind.
As many thoughts as all of the hairs on my head
blanketing the overflowing ideas inside.
Tangled around justification.
One huge knot.
A rope dangling from the ceiling.
I am too weak to climb to the top
of the raw splintery string
stretching across the mile.
No one will find the end.
Reasons are meant to be tangled.
Steady hands may not remove.
Find a place on the gym floor,
lie down, look up, ponder for a moment.
Then, get up and walk away.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
Our dreams do not mix well
mixing purple and green only
makes brown.
The painting would be dull.
Over time our dreams may
change colors
Evolving to red and yellow
to glow orange and never fade.
Experiences will provide vibrancy
in our lives. Situations have the
ability to bring us back together.
Until then my love will whisper
so my screams will not keep you
from pursuing your dreams.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
What if removing unwanted feelings
was as easy as coughing up the mucus
clinging in the back of my throat?
I close my eyes, breathe in,
and cough as your germs explode
through the air away from me.
I don’t want to think about your
pristine perfection anymore.
Like glitter glue on pink
construction paper.
I try to pick the hardened glue
hugging the paper but the
sparkles seem to stain.
You shine and I wish upon
the star that you were dull.
I wish I could stick a round
blue sticker on your forehead
and write fifty cents.
Like a house opens its mouth
to throw-up the unwanted
knick-knacks on the driveway.
Maybe some little old lady could walk by,
hand me two quarters, and take you
far away so I would never see you again.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
I feel like I am trapped
Stuck like bubblegum under a tire
moving forward but leaving sticky behind
strings of pink grow like elastic
until it snaps
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
I watched our love
expire like the date on
my milk carton
Three sips remain
but I was too lazy to
throw you out
I made myself believe
there was enough left
to keep you on the shelf
for one more glass
Opening the ice box
door and watching you
spoil
One day I couldn't handle
the smell so I put you
in the trash.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
I know something that will make you mad
A piercing circle of neon midnight strewn upon auburn flesh
Three blood speckled trophies perched upon a prideful shelf
Three boastful laughters smacking love in the face
Three more reminders of who we are today
Six months or Two years, Time will tell
Hickies will fade, Things will change
I know something that will make you mad.
You were too late.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
What if removing unwanted feelings was as easy as coughing up the mucus stuck in the back of my throat? I close my eyes, breathe in, and cough as your germs travel through the air away from me. I don’t want to think about your pristine perfection anymore. The thoughts in my mind clog my brain and blind my eyes. I don’t want to love you but you are simply stuck and not simply removable. Like glitter glue on pink construction paper. I try to pick the hardened glue hugging the paper but the sparkles seem to stain. You shine and I wish upon the star that you were dull. I wish I could stick a little blue sticker on your forehead and write fifty cents. I wish it was that easy. Like a house opens its mouth to throw-up the unwanted knick-knacks on the driveway. Maybe some little old lady could walk by, hand me two quarters, and take you far away so I would never see you again. I want it to be easy. Just one cough, some dried glitter glue, and a garage sale later. Then maybe these feelings would be gone.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC