-D - Hello Poetry

-D Oct 2012

there was a morning that awoke
to dreams of you
holding coffee mugs full of your words that you could never speak.
[for my hands were full&clasped;
with the covers of another lover,
but you held the chalice closer
so as to keep it warm until
I emerged from my slumber]

& there is this evening that feels
glimmers&flashes; of a new awakening:
awe & wonder & immaculate passion, too.
[the covers are beginning to recede
as I emerge to the brand new season
& reach up for the mug that awakens
& renews
& answers my questions
in the language that you&I; have always spoken
in our secret places]

come back to me, I plead,
even though I am the one who left,
& it has not been easy…

but I would like to unwrap the whispering whatifs
that have comforted me timeaftertime
since the day we first met:
whatif
our fingers intertwined &
whatif
our embraces became eclipses &
whatif
our paths intersected
& stayed that way on a journey for some time?
[just think of all the things we could see
& feel
& write
& listen
together]

destinations, destinations;
we’d be walking in crooked lines
composed of our mistakes, unpredictable emotions,
but our honesty & forgiveness would correct our straying.
[& we’d finally be moving forward
somewhere,
which is better than backward
just about anywhere
--especially to all the places we’ve been:
heartbreak &
harm &
holding on to who we’ve lost--.]

so you shut her door,
& I’ll burn his bridge
& don’t be afraid to sing Hallelujahs as I
fade to slumber on your porch in the rain,
for just because the seasons will change,
doesn’t mean that I won’t be standing here
to cover you in the midst of autumn leaves
& fears of Falling.

-D Sep 2012

a glimpse.

"good morning," you said,
as you walked up trottrottrot to my door,
opened the lock with your smile
& let yourself in:

"I promise not to stay,
but I'd like to at least take a glimpse
of the whatif sort of game we play."

& as I unfurled my joy at your arrival
I closed my eyes to picture
just what our whatifs and couldwes would look like:

there would be music,
sweet music,
& your voice would match with my words--
a tenor chorus in cummings' poetry,
a breath of anxious hearts' goodbyes.

for each&everytime; we are draw near to the same place,
we hold our hands up & against each other's,
& we look into each other's eyes
but our fingers never, never, never
interlace.

whatif, whatif, whatif--
so exhausting is this thought,
that I will set it free here in these words,
& I will let you be there with your wideawakeeyes
& your heart that runs its course in the other direction
from where I stand tonight.

-D Sep 2012

my anxious smoldering heart.

a whisper—
it creeps through my extremities,
& it persists:
even when my fatherforgivemeforIhavesinned is clutched nearby,
like a slowburningcinder
that chisels at the arches of my feet,
& simmers in my lockedup[treasure]chest,
it tells me:
“iwonderwhenyouwilljustgivein,mylove,
giveintotheembersandburstintoflames.”
[& these wrists, they ache,
with a promise they once held for me—
justopenthechestandyouwillbesetfree]
—

& I hate to be the bearerofbadnews but,
you are a part of it, as well,
my l.ong o.verdue v.icissitudinous e.scape,
& in your lapse of silence,
you whisper, too.
“iwonderwhenyouwilljustgivein,myfriend,
giveintotheembersofyourheartache
andsquelchouttheselickingflames.”
—

& as the forest is left to its smolders
& as the smoke begins to clear,
I lie awake in
the lulling hours of the morning,
inspecting the charring on my heartstrings
& the scorched remnants of my exhausted energies,
waiting for healing to awaken
among the first few raindropsofremembers & sprigsofspring,
[itrustyou,itrustyou,itrustyou]
only to be engulfed in the rhythm of your illumination again,
for my leaves are dry
& the winds are strong,
& the hypnosis of your glow is too seductive to disregard.

as of late, i have been noticing how many of my poems allude to the sea.

here's one for those moments we find ourselves engulfed in flames.

-D Sep 2012

this ship.

an element of light slips though the cracks
in this worn, beaten mast
with its aching floorboards & my
creaking starboard heart.
& the wind whips through the sails
just as my aching soul ails
for the same vicissitude--
though it is caught in this sea of stagnancy.
--
this ship:
it asks for weather,
it pleads for the storm,
if only in attempt to be washed ashore.
[something new, something unexplored.]
lo, but it is caught in this mesmerizing estuary,
entangled in the tides of your sea,
& in all the efforts I make to escape from your deep,
I always feel as though I’m swimming upstream.

-D Sep 2012

autumnal melody.

i watched the leavesfall today—

and the windwhip through the crunching grasses…

you were there, too:

in the warmth i felt in my sweatersleeves

& in the way i feel lucky when my bootheelsclickthrice.

yes, you were there,

& i felt the warm breath of your sorrowful farewell

in the changing of the season.

-D Sep 2012

ode to my broken license plate.

dearest scorned face of metal,

that which clung so tightly to my chest;

you tried, you truly tried

to label my country, to give me a home,

but the only gift I took from your hands

was a boost up to where I truly wished to go:

to the stars.

-

and now that I have traveled there

(and back again)

I will allow you to swivel in the place where you sit,

for the memories of which your predicament reminds me

are worth more than the payment I would have to surrender

in its absence.

-D Sep 2012

a rivulet memory.

a place on my spine still hums
from when you touched it last.
for it was the first time you revealed
that you wanted more than what we had--
as if you were standing at the ocean's edge,
dipping your fingers beneath the waves
to determine if it was warm enough to jump in.
so cautious,
yet hungering to be consumed
in the possibility of deluge.
come closer, you urged:
your fingers pressed in the shoal of my back,
and the tide pulled you in.