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~Christi Michaels~November 2014~
~ ~ * ~ ~
hard to believe
hearing you say
you did not want me
would not have us
anymore

could not control
the clench of my heart
when you told me
words so few
leave
find someone new

"Old News"
you said I was
"Old News"
and you just
did not want
me anymore

waved your hand
in front of me
to be sure I understood

Could not control
the clench of my heart
when you told me
with words so few
leave
find someone new

"Old News"
you said I was
"Old News"
and you just
did not want me
would not have
us anymore

waved your hand in
front of Me
to be sure I knew
We were not to be
forevermore
~ ~ * ~ ~

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
.
i used to cradle her bleach-cracked hands in mine
and decode the stardust resting within her fingerprints
     up until the day that i lost touch with the art of reading braille
     and she stopped slinging tall-tales for me to fetch
and rest the plot-twist at her feet

often in the post-script
i'd find my train of thought highjacked by the sunlight illuminating the rainbow of earth-tones ablaze
in her frizz-ridden curls
as if she'd been washing her hair with the damaged case of beer
she'd gotten for half-price at liqour depot
     she never did quit drinking
          but neither did i

at least we tried

though sometimes
in the middle of the night when nothing was alright
and we'd barely survived another fight
her face would catch my glance
cast aglow by a flood of lava-lamp light
    
     the sea of freckles resting at the crest of her cheeks
     rose lips perma-pursed in half tilt
     her resting heart-rate so high that i could almost see it
          pirouetting within her chest

it was then that i'd love her best
     amidst the ruins of who we were
     just moments before
a love poem, for the girl i can sometimes spot in my reflection.
He unlocks the door & opens the space
Where words romp back & forth
Spontaneous & limber like frolicking children
Silently witnessing this interplay
The myriad combinations of combinations
Weaving, looping, effortlessly flowing
Easily mingling sonorous and dissonant melodies
He almost listens, not dictating
Not controlling or manipulating
Turning a deaf ear to the ego's urging
He lingers in this hard earned realm
Enjoying the dance as long as he can
Returning revived, refreshed, restored
Reveling in the power of his powerlessness
He gently yields to it
And joyfully succumbs to himself
my eighteenth year
taught me how
not to love
but still
i trip
stumble
fall
into that which i avoid
so carefully
love
is a covetous
*****
but have not love.
(Theme, Variations, and Coda)

Theme – Andante sognante*  
I dreamed last night...
It was a dream
Like one I've had before
Variations on a theme
My colleagues standing at my door

Guitarists all, I bid them in
And soon it's time to play
My teacher first, each one in turn
They play the night away

Var. 1- Agitato
But as they play I look around
For my guitar is gone
I look and look but cannot find
Then comes my time...   “I can't go on!”

This is absurd.  How can I play?
(What?  Did I hide it by design?
Is this my “out” as light breaks day,
An ironclad alibi?)
“I can't perform, no, not today.
I'll have to play another time.”

Var. 2 – Appassionato
My time has come, and there I sit
With my guitar in hand
And wonder what the hell to play
My mind a porous shifting sand

Completely unprepared I sit
And pray for intervention
I make up some simplistic ****
And play it with “emotion”

Var. 3 – Allegro con brio e subito calamitoso
This time round, it's different
I really want to play.
I'm ready, I'm inspired!
I'll play till break of day

I'll show them what I'm made of
They'll marvel and they'll cry
But my guitar just falls apart
“What?  Why now?  Why? WHY?”

The neck breaks off, the body splits,
the strings are hanging limply
I'm foiled again, I cannot play
I'm ******* (to put it simply)

Coda - Andantino Contemplativo
What does it mean, this silly dream
This wild subconscious spectre?
What nourishment for soul to glean
From such netherworldly nectar?

Hmmm...

I think that I should spend more time
With hands on wood and string
To reconnect with touch and sound
To let my veiled heart sing

To feel, and set those feelings free
Catharsis, true release
My sheepish nature put to bed
My denigration now to cease

For I have something bold to say
Now my true voice is ready
I'll sing again through wood and string
Rich and full and steady

Alive with truths that transcend words
Ego now at bay
Connecting with the universe
It's time for me to play

*Fine
I teach guitar at the University of Prince Edward Island... in my dreams I'm a student again, usually unprepared, reluctant to play.
I rowed out to him upon the Duvet Sea
Found him lying veiled in soft white waves

I lowered myself onto his body ... trusting
That he could carry the weight of my dark and light

I laid my ear to his throat and the music of his body sang out
Pulsating and reaching into my very soul

I breathed him in, his song and rhythms
~ heart beat, breath, hum of vibrating vocal chords~

*Singing and dancing in my blood and bones

— The End —