I .
I saw the past flee from me
Leaving puddles of memories -
( memories of sadness , salt and pepper , bread and butter ) -
How close we were together
The Glenn Iris in September

II .
The ocean swelled and crashed on the rocks
We made love not unlike the sea
The winter was cold , frozen in love
Then she chose to leave
All my seed fell frozen
All my dreams winter bare

III .
For February fallen
March ascending
Long frozen tears
soft wails , shivering chills
For the stars out tonight
are older than first love
have endured through the void and cold
and comes to me soft in comfort

IV .
There will be new dawns
There will be healing
There will be a new song
New hope and heart ,
as long as the Irish pipes play and wooden flutes . . .
. . . as long as there are walks at the end of the day
Secret gardens where little girls play . . .
As long . . .only as long . . .

V .
I drape the sadness like a quilt about me and dwell on being small
I'm not saying I'm overwhelmed ,
not saying I'm understood
Just saying a robin is
a promise on a snow covered lawn

VI .
Too much in the band
Standing on a corner downtown
Walking in the surf's foam
early one summer's morn
A train whistle  blows forlornly in a dream I have
Someone has been coming for me all these years

VII .
Was it all wasted ?
Was it something more than we know ?
A cup of tea in the morning
On the table lie the lines of rhyme . . .
and some time . . .
the supreme enigma

You can’t say no, to a question that you were never asked.

today I shopped, I shopped because the pounds had dropped. Sunk to the bottom of my ghost town stomach. Melted out of my sunken eyes, dripped from my cracked lips.

The changing room lights accentuated the rolls and zig zags in my stomach. The lighting strikes and scars that the battle at the dinner table left behind.

How to make yourself happy
compose a poem
and called it poetry,

let your inspiration comes
from that day, that time, that hour

when you felt sad:
then whisper to yourself
Good, golly miss molly
I can breathe again:

The wind tries to control our ribbons.
They blow across the dirt,
Not quite light enough to be lifted,
And they crawl at our feet,
Whispering of our potential
Trying to break our defenses
With their mouthless words.
The ribbons want to tie us together
In a pretty bow, on top of a big,
Materialistic present,
But we are only as vulnerable
As the expensive electronic inside.

Sometimes they don’t make a bow,
But weave around our ankles
And up our thighs,
Pressing our hips together,
A group hug of sorts.
We no longer know how to fight,
But we do the closer we get,
And we can’t decide whose
Fault this is.

We can blame metaphors or love,
But either way, we are just too
Knotted together,

Our only weapons blunt scissors.
We try to tear ourselves away
Whilst making out.
How many of us are there?
It’s hard for me to tell--
I push one away and begin kissing another,
But they are all just friends--
Or friendly acquaintances?

Maybe it’s just me the ribbons have *******
And everyone else just happened to be there
When they did.

We all have thoughts that linger, drift in and out of thoughtfulness. Behind and in front of every atom that pieced together our brain. Incomplete jigsaw, rotating merry go round. Fill in the missing puzzle pieces. You

Left handed, back flipping, cat having, black haired, brown eyed boys

We all have thoughts that linger, drift in and out of thoughtfulness. Behind and in front of every atom that pieced together our brain. Incomplete jigsaw, rotating merry go round. Fill in the missing puzzle pieces. Me

Left handed, double jointed, dog having, blond haired, blue eyed girls

If I could write away my fears, my hand would hurt and my chest would not.

He said, “ please don’t be too dark tonight”. But I’ve never seen the morning. I’ve never felt the light hit my pupils, I’ve never dilated my emotions to see the happiness lying beneath. I don’t know about sun rises or sun glasses and extra spf. I know about flashlights without batteries and nights that never end. I know about the grief that has always been too much for your Wednesday midday brunch soul.

My heart is nothing but aches, it quakes through my whole body.

I feel like I can’t be loved with the lights on