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 Mar 2018 Claire Elizabeth
z
when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?
 Feb 2018 Claire Elizabeth
r
This book is full
of my father's eye lashes
He treated the pages
rough like his sons
pinching the daylights
out of them, I remember
mud and grease
on calloused thumbs
and you can still smell
Four Roses bourbon
in the morning
through the onionskin
He would not weep
he knew most folks
never kept their word
Anyway, his death
came through
like a hitchhiker
You could see it coming
like the slow light
of a faraway dead star.
Human Observations (the woman pees)

if you walk the world with pen and paper
or eclectic electronic devices,
sure as the sunrise espied,
the pen will quick leak
when wearing white
and so will too the
righteous words
righteously,
thereafter

when you can't sleep and you must
slam your sweaty fist into pillow
know that the pillow is
silent thinking, dude,
you really ain't
got a hope, a
prayer

fallen asleep in the soaking tub
a thousand and one times,
ain't never drowned like
the warning ones say I
will do but only when
restless in my rustling
no-safety night sleep
in my lumpy bed,
where I’ve already
dream-drowned
a million
times

the woman pees, safe and secure,
comforted by the knowledge
that we have bathrooms
separate, her toilet,
man *** free, tho
we just finished
making sweaty,
fluid swapping
***


she does not, won't put on makeup
in her pj's to take out the garbage,
that is why she keeps loverman,
so handy, nearby, shamelessly
firm, unwavering, good god,
great for one "disposable"
use per night

when you tell your child that you love them,
and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they
don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't
learned to love themselves
something well that just
cannot be
taught.

the more trinkets I buy her,
more she screams stop,
but never not once
has she said, here,
take it
back

if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives,
try, for then you have a middling chance
of getting the missing, disappearing
whole sock hiding
in her ******,
back, intact

If must look up the time where your
love is currently hiding/residing,
then the probability is more than
1.000, that you no longer love
her enough, or
she, you,
not at
all

you know it is time to shut down,
hang up the pen and close the
iPad cover, surrender,
give up the poetry gig
4 real when you start
to prefer an
autocorrect
suggestion

~
More to follow.
someday.
11/24/13
 Jan 2018 Claire Elizabeth
Luke
wooden coffee
6 oz styrofoam cup
splintered morning
The orderly runs a silent dust mop across the masonic checker board hallway floor.

Sounds like machines beeping, a voice on an intercom calling for someone by their title, silent muffled weeping, elevator doors ringing your floor, the rise and fall of a mechanism keeping someone alive.

The small chapel no bigger than a large pantry,
two rows of oak carved pews.
Italian made cedar crosses and small stain glassed reliefs adorn each of the walls.

Candles burn and flowers die and nothing we've done here means anything where we are all going.

The Jaguar sits still and unfinished in the carport.
None of us can bring ourselves to finish what he started.

We get but only one chance to live, one chance to experience love.
So many of us end up living a full life of pain.

He asked how I felt the night that he gave in.
I told him I felt cheated and that nothing here will ever be the same
 Jan 2018 Claire Elizabeth
rmh
i feel as though you should know
that the falling was a beautiful blur
but i guess i was hoping that
you'd catch me in the end
partially inspired by the song "catch me"
I want to tell you
that I can do without you.
But I'd be lying.
Dad
Dad,
What do I do?
You can't be proud of me
for sleeping with a man
who acts like a boy and
doesn't treat me like I am
perfect even though I'm not.
I mean, down here on earth, we are definitely
not angels even though I know you
would treat me like one.
We are human.
We cannot love perfectly,
but aren't we supposed to try?
I know you would tell me that he is the one
who is missing out.
And it’s quiet, but I can hear you say, everything will be better than okay someday,
but it's just not the same.
But I am human. I am selfish.
He calls my name
and I run back to him.
You can't be happy with me
for feeling like I need someone
who doesn't cherish my soul.
I wish you were here.
I wish my questions turned into answers, but it's not that easy.
It's not that easy without you here,
Dad.
When his hands dance in the night,
the moon quiets down to sleep.
Maybe he's awake at this hour again,
who knows what the day will bring.
I'm in love with the absence of hurting;
like this; my shins splitting with dancing
so much with my own insecurities.
9/2017
but I only know that because
my mom showed me your wedding pictures on facebook.
he is handsome, and you are beautiful, perfect.

i can't see your happiness anymore;
i'm behind a wall, and your special day--any of your days are invisible to me
you're not even tagged
in silly photos we took nine and a half years ago

why?

childhood memories and a wave of nostalgia hit me
remember the basketball hoop that almost killed you?
remember quarter-roy?
imagined fairies and magic in your cardboard fort?
swimming in the lake in your backyard on hot days?
me riding the bus home with you sometimes, eating skittles,
keeping them hidden from the bus driver?
we never talked about marriage, like all little girls supposedly do
and now i'm sad we didn't
the closest we came to sharing the dream
of looking pretty in a dress
was as prom queens together, at different schools

we met one time after i moved away from that small town
(where we both were pressured and compressed until we melted away into our own neat, square boxes)
and you said I looked different
but you did too

you wrote me a message
almost two years ago.
i was surprised to see it
it was so caring, compassionate, and wonderful
i did not respond
and i did not realize that meant the end

i miss our childhood
i will miss seeing you and your joys
and i wish i could change your push of a button

I wish I could say it directly to you:
congratulations, and
i'm sorry,
but not in that order
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