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9.8k · Mar 2010
Disappointment
I was given a name the day I was born
Later, I was given another.
Later still, I married and took another name.
Later, I took back the second.

What is a name? Should we not just choose our own?
If so, I shall call myself "Disappointment" and be done with the matter.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
3.1k · Jul 2010
Goodnight, My Love
Goodnight, my love,
though miles away,
your voice is all that I need
To lull me to sleep
and to know that I'm loved
and that I am yours now to keep.
1.3k · Mar 2010
This is My Emo Poem
No one likes me.
(razor blade, razor blade)
Everybody hates me.
(razor blade, razor blade)
At 30, I feel more like 15.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I should dye my hair black.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And cut it into weird angles.
(razor blade, razor blade)
But I don't have enough black clothing.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And I go to church.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I don't know how to put on eye liner.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And I listen to country music.
(razor blade, razor blade)
Wow.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I even **** at emo.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
1.1k · Jun 2010
Funny
It's funny how you pretend
that you never called me
when I failed to pick up the phone.
It's funny how you deny
the fact that, in a moment,
you needed to hear my voice.
It's funny how you forget
that my phone has caller ID,
but I could not see it then.
It's funny that I left said phone
sitting on the front seat of my car,
even as I wished that you would call.
It's funny that I fell asleep,
around the time you called,
and dreamed of you kissing me.
Or, perhaps it's not funny at all.
Perhaps, it is sad that, in the end,
we both ended the evening alone.
1.0k · May 2010
Worst Case Scenario
The worst case scenario
is that you will leave
and I will never see you again.

The worst case scenario
is the only one I can imagine.

Perhaps I will be surprised.

But why is it
that my worst case scenario
is your best?

You do not process these things
as I do.

But, whatever happens, I love you still.
1.0k · Mar 2010
Puzzle
Who do I see when I look in the mirror?
Do I have my mother's eyes?
My father's nose?

When I see my reflection,
how many generations, how many lives,
peer back at me?

What countries run through my veins?
What stories have joined to make me who I am?
What ghosts contribute to my story?

I will never never know where I am going
until I know where I have been.
A mystery to myself, trapped in the prison of my unfamiliar being.

Soon I will know.
Soon, the pieces will be laid before me
and slowly, I can piece the puzzle together.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
948 · Jun 2010
Crushing
And once again I find myself
crushed beneath the sole
of a size twelve, steel toed boot.

I am nothing to you
but an annoying insect
crawling across the ground.

I must be stopped,
smashed into bits,
before I make off with your heart.

How different would the world be
if so many annoying insects
weren't squashed?

How different would the world be
if you allowed me
to make off with your heart?
928 · Mar 2010
Ugly Babies
....and as the mother comes to realize she loves her children despite their ugliness, I have come to, at least, accept the gangling imperfections of my writing as the hallmark of my intellectual progeny. Thank you.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
874 · Mar 2010
Mayberry
No two people
ever conceived by God
could possibly be more alike than us

We live our lives in perpetual hope
of Country Time Lemonade commercials
and old reruns of “Leave it to ******”

We hope that, around the next bend
on a dusty, sun streaked road
we will find our Mayberry

That place where old men
weighing down sagging porches
speak in parable of better times

That place where young mothers
perpetually in their Sunday best
push strollers edged in brick-a-brack

That place where little boys
have impossibly grass stained knees
at the edge of muddy fishing holes

That place where little girls
pick Black-Eyed Susan's in verdant fields
and play at getting married while the little boys flee in terror

That place where dapper fathers
mow lawns in their shirtsleeves
and tip their pipes to one another in the falling afternoon sun

Together, we dream of this place;
this ideal;
this America.

Together we dream and, together, we continue
down that old dirt road;
hoping to find Mayberry
just around the next bend.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
723 · Aug 2010
When I'm Gone
Bury me high on Sugarloaf Mountain
in a mule chest made of pine.
I'm not looking for anything special,
just a simple prayer is fine.
When I'm standing in God's great glory,
when I reach the promised land,
I hope He says "Well done faithful servant,
you're a real good Christian man.".
Before the road splits,
sending us down different paths
on our journeys home from work,
we meet in the parking lot of the McDonald's
that marks the end of the way we share.
Here, you have seen both straight through me
and right into my heart.
Here, you have seen the best and worst of me
come boldly to life.
    
You sit next to me in the idling car,
your fingers gripping the wheel
until they turn so many colors
they cease to resemble fingers.
You lean forward in the seat,
starring straight ahead,
then lean back, trying to find
a comfortable posture.
I watch your jaw clench,
that space in your cheek flinch,
and I wonder how badly
your words are going to hurt.
You open your mouth to speak,
but no sound emerges;
I can feel the shape of it
catching in your throat;
choking you with the pain
of already knowing you are wrong.
Finally, the words come out;
I draw them in like a bullet to my body.
You hang on harder to that life saving wheel,
waiting for my tears to come,
not knowing what you will do
when they arrive onto the scene.
You ask me to say something,
but I turn to the window,
as I always do, so you won't see me cry.
Again, you repeat your request,
you ask to hear my voice say it will all be okay.
But I open the door and step out;
there is not enough room in the car
for you and for me
and for the void your words have just carved.
    
I see you every day,
walking beside me at work,
down dusty trails along the river's edge;
we work in pasture and in the woods,
and I am like a stranger to you.
From time to time,
in the shade of an afternoon tree,
you forget yourself
and lay your hand on mine.
Or you say my name
a bit too much like honey,
dripping from your tongue,
and I have to run and hide.
I don't know how to breathe
in this vacuum of silence
you have created;
I see that you are unable
to live by your own imposed rules.
You are convicted to be lonely,
but you need no words to show me
you are no longer convinced of this desire.
We tear each other to pieces
with the wordless cries of our souls,
and the chains that have drawn us together
become almost visible
even as you struggle to set yourself free.
We did not choose this thing;
there are far greater powers at work.
    *
The break in the road approaches
and my telephone rings,
your name appearing on the screen.
You ask if I'm all right.
I say no and ask you the same.
You say no and ask to see me
before we go our separate ways.
In the McDonald's parking lot,
I climb into the familiar safety
of your waiting car.
What are we, you ask;
why is this so hard?
I put my head on your shoulder
and let my silence tell you I still love you.
I make no mention of the tear
that rolls down your cheek
and soaks through my hair;
I only hold you tighter,
knowing I can never let you go.
The clouds are pink
in the light of early evening;
a technicolor sunset
muting the tones of your skin
where your hand rests upon mine.
I want nothing more than this,
than this moment,
when all I can hear
is the steady rise of your breath
and the distant sound
of the drive-thru voice-box
carried on a twilight breeze.
678 · May 2010
Sharing Everything
You're on the phone with me
I'm on the phone with you
In two separate houses
In two separate rooms

I hear your mattress creak beneath you
and you hear mine
Our groans are  a weird harmony
over the telephone line

You go silent for a time
all of you I know is the sound of your breath
and then it is my turn
as my mind spins and my fever burns

"Did you take your medicine?"
You ask me, before I have the chance to ask you.
"Yes...did you?"
"Yes."

And of all the things we have shared
I wonder aloud
Why must we have both gotten Lyme Disease
At the exact same time?
Not much of a poem, but written from the trenches, as it were!
665 · May 2010
Night Driving
I put my hand out the window
wave after wave of summer air
rolling under and over my finger tips
dipping up and down with the unseen current

You sing along, under your breath,
to the song on the radio
your feet in brown socks
propped up on the dash

Your arm is around my shoulder
and we drive through the clear night
my head leaning closer to your shoulder
as we turn down the dirt road to your house

The crack and pop of gravel
under the wheels of the car
punctuated by the crack of limbs
randomly strewing across the drive

We park and turn the car off;
I lean into you, the warmth of your arm
drawing me in as your lips touch
the crown of my head

I kick my feet out the window
laying back against your chest
and we rest in this manner
knowing that, soon, this night must come to an end.
654 · Jun 2010
If I Were Empty
I kid myself in thinking
that I don't need you in my life
Then I see a day without you
and I see that I don't know myself
anymore, without you,
So I pull you back
I cling to you
finding myself the kind of whole
I have never wished to be
For your presence has filled
the empty place within me
more completely than it was meant to contain
And now I am left to wonder
if you were to leave
Would anything remain of me
if I were empty once again.
607 · Mar 2010
Unending Poem
“Poetry needs both a mother and a father....”
                                                                                      -Virginia Wolfe


I am the poem
that has been born
of all the mothers
who have come before me.
In every fiber of my being,
in every cell of my body,
the words and deeds of these women
beat through my soul
in an eternal rhythm that will continue on
to my daughters in a distant,
unseen future.
Each mark upon my body,
every desire in my heart
is an echo
of all that they have loved,
all
that they have sacrificed.
The words I write
are their words,
muted and modulated
by time and society;
my name written upon this page
is written for their glory
and the recognition
of all that they have gained
for us women of today.
I am their testament,
I am their artistic expression.
We,
now,
are daughters,
are grand-daughters,
are nieces,
are sisters
of these women.
We are the mothers of tomorrow
and for all that is to come.
We add to
the poem,
the story,
the painting.
We are all literary women by our birth;
we are literature to our deepest core.
We are the muses of the fathers,
but the fathers cannot be
the womb of creativity
as we are.
There is glory in being
the mothers of expression.
I am not a poetess,
but I am a poem.
Another line has just been added.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
594 · Mar 2010
Hiding
I hide in plain view
Leaving my thoughts
where anyone can find them;
hoping they won't be found
by those who need to hear them most.

Lovers, parents, friends
read right through me.
I am a stranger in my words,
masked by things I am not
supposed to feel.

Will they ever learn
that the person they see,
outside of the words,
is merely a parasite
on the true beings soul?
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
581 · Mar 2010
Fourth of July
Perhaps it's only with childs' eyes
That we could see the fireflies

On that lovely Fourth of July
Perched between the earth and sky

In that ancient, gnarly tree
There was only you and only me

And in the forest, all around,
Nothing but the nighttime sounds

The peepers peeping by the creek
A gentle breeze, so soft, so meek

The moonglow soft upon your face
Full of wonder, full of grace

The perfect end to the perfect day
Covered in dirt, horse hair and hay

I never will forget that night
Or our heaven sent delight

And I'll never forget the fireflies
On that lovely Fourth of July
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
554 · Mar 2010
My Forever
Our souls speak to one another in the darkness of night
When words go unsaid in the normal tones of uttered language
Carried on prayer to those secret places that hide within us
Carried on the soft breeze of an early summer night to the indwelling of our spirits

I wonder where you hide in your dreams
What rooms you wander in the solitude of that evanescent world
If I can dance in my dreams
Surly you can find me in yours
Surly you can take my hand and dance with me there

Do you find me as I find you
With lips that await kissing
With skin that awaits touching

Does your heart beat in time with mine
As I reach for you
As you reach for me

Washed in blue moonlight we find each other in that midnight place
Safe together at last in arms as fluid as quicksilver, as strong as steel
I love you for now
I love you for always

Once we meet there, we shall never leave there
Ordained by God to love and hold one another in holy union
You are my forever
You are my joy
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
541 · Jun 2010
Just Wondering
Do they have a rehab program
to get over those people
you can't let go?

Those who sink into your veins
like a hypodermic needle,
momentarily filling you with hope.

Hope for a new life.
Hope for acceptance.
Hope for unconditional love.

Is there a way to recover
from the dreams that are lost
when hope is taken away?

When the drug is removed
and the world settles back
to dull shades of gray and brown.
518 · May 2010
Pieces
I walk behind you a step or two
and I gather the broken pieces of your heart
as you drop them along the way.
I shall make something beautifulof them,
I tell myself.
I shall add them to my own and,
together, what had been two fragile lives
will be made into one beautiful mosaic.
But the pieces you drop,
one by one,
start falling to the ground in rapid succession.  
I pick them up
but drop them again,
and with them,
the pieces of my own heart
that I hold in my other hand.
There is just too much
for my two little hands to hold.
Soon I carry all that is yours,
but not enough to repair what is broken,
and that which was mine is scattered about
in a trail behind me.
I wish to turn back,
to return to that path,
to retrieve what I have lost,
but you keep moving on and so must I.
There is only you,
who will not take your broken heart from my hands,
and only me who is left empty
and searching for that which has been
lost along the way.
518 · Mar 2010
Love That Waits
If you were to see me in candlelight
when the moon is down,
perhaps then you would see
the love that lights my eyes

If you were to see me in darkness
through the depths of blackest night,
perhaps then you would see
the love that breaks my heart

If you were to see me at daybreak
through eyes red rimmed with tears,
perhaps then you would know
how tender love could be

But you see me alone through your eyes
so blinded by pain of old
perhaps you will never know
the love that waits for you here
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
508 · Mar 2010
I Am Yours
From across the sea,
You have come to me
On the whisper of a dream long grown

Yet, you have brought to me,
from across the sea
A love I have never known

I'd imagined that love could feel like this
So brilliant, so perfect, so true

But never before, in my wildest dreams,
Could I imagine the beauty of you

Through grace I have found you
Through the Spirit, divine
Across an ocean and throughout all time

When you come to me,
They will soon all see
I am yours and you are mine
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
507 · Jun 2010
Like Breathing
The way you come in and out of my life
is like breathing in and breathing out
I breathe in and you are there,
filling me and giving me strength.
I breathe out and you retreat,
leaving me dizzy and listless in your wake.
476 · May 2010
Little House
I waited for you and you waited for me
years and years we had spent
wondering when the other would come along.

Our love was predestined,
planned for us by the unseen creator
and now we come close to making good on His design.

Somewhere close at hand, in a town, in this place we love
there is a little house
that will one day hold our dreams.

Our home was predestined,
planned for us by the unseen creator
and now we come close to making good on His design.

I see you there, in this place yet to come
our children at your feet,
the culmination of our dreams, of our love.

And our children are predestined,
planned for us by the unseen creator,
and we come close to making good on His design.

But I love you, today, tomorrow and always,
you are all things to me,
and the greatest fulfillment of my dreams.

For our dreams were predestined,
planned for us by the unseen creator,
and we come close to making good on His design.
460 · Mar 2010
There Are Days
There are days when I wish I had never met you
When I wish the August heat hadn't dulled me to your charm
When I wish the sun hadn't shown me how blue eyes could be

There are days when I wish locust hadn't been shivering in the trees
When I wish the river hadn't been rushing behind you
When I wish I hadn't learned you were everything I had ever dreamed of loving

There are days when I wish I hadn't noticed the tan of your arms
When I wish I had never heard the sweet lilt of your voice
When I wish I had never heard the stir of your laughter in the shade

There are days when I wish I had never taken that job
When I wish I had never let you into my life
When I wish I had never let you into my heart

But then, there are days, that I thank God for His forethought of bring you into my world.

This is one of those days.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
452 · Mar 2010
Our Conversation
???
.

???

. . .

!!!

!!!

??????

!!!!!

(...)

?

. . .

. . . .

(*)
449 · Apr 2010
Away
I dream of a place away from here
where we are both at peace.
Where spring days are filled with silence;
where wordless glances- tender touch-
are our only known languages .
I want to sense you, to know you beyond words;
I want to know the moment your pulse quickens
and your breath is stolen away;
the soft fanning of your eyelashes
just before you are overcome with sleep.
I want to count the dapples of sunlight
on your cheeks, cast through veils
of spring-green leaves.
I want to see you smile without worry,
without fear.
- From Where I Find You
444 · Jun 2010
Options
If you don't choose something
you will have nothing at all.
The world will pass by,
another fifteen years gone,
and you will wonder why
you didn't choose differently today.
You will mourn lost love,
lament lost opportunity,
wonder at passing chance.
You will ask yourself why you're alone,
why you don't live
where you said you would live,
or have a catalog of adventures
over which to reminisce.
And in the end, it all came down
to one word: Fear.
Fear of choosing the wrong love,
the wrong house,
the wrong job,
the wrong city,
the wrong restaurant for dinner...
If it had been struck from your vocabulary,
if I had never heard it come from your lips,
you might find your path to happiness.
But you can never rest easy knowing
that you had too many options.
428 · Mar 2010
It's Okay...
I love you.
Even though
you don't
know what
"U2" is.
- From Where I Find You
420 · Apr 2010
Lines
You touch the lines upon your face
and lament the passing of the years.
You say you no longer recognize yourself,
and you scowl at your reflection in the mirror.
But the man I love is a map of time,
these lines the days I did not know.
As I learn each line,
I learn the man,
and I love him even more.
418 · Mar 2010
You Will Never Know
You will never hear
the beating of my heart.
You will never know.
You will never feel
the touch of my lips.
You will never know.
You will never hear
the voice of my love.
You will never know.
You will never accept
the warmth of my touch.
You will never know.
You will never see me
in the light of new morning.
You will never know.
You will never see
the brilliance of my smile.
You will never know.
You will never hold
the lightness of my hand.
You will never know.
You will never touch
the softness of my body.
You will never know.
You will never hear
the keening of my laugh.
You will never know.
You will never know
the joy of my devotion.
You will never know.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
408 · Mar 2010
Exposed
There is power in knowing
that my poems
are the only part of me
you do not know.

Would you recognize yourself in them?
Would you realize you are my muse?
Silly man.
Of course you wouldn't.

For you cannot see the forest
for the trees,
and you cannot see yourself
for the words.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
403 · Mar 2010
Truth Number One
It would be redundant
to say that life is hard;
that is it's definition;
its very essence.

We make it such
by wanting it to be fair.
Life is not fair; some just
don't care enough to see its inherent challenge.

Sometimes, I wish I was ignorant
to this truest of truths.
Sometimes, I wish I could settle
for what I can't change.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
389 · Apr 2010
Hands
The last thing I will forget of you
are your hands.
They are beauty to me,
for all that they do,
for all that they are.
Strong when at work,
yet light upon my cheek,
there is no fear in their touch.
When near, I am safe,
for those hands can rescue me,
or just remind me you are close.
How precious your hands are to me;
they are all that I want in this life.
- From Where I Find You
379 · Mar 2010
Ghost
I wonder if I will ever see you again.
You are here, but the words you say aren't yours.
Did you finally just give up?
Did you realize the world is just as awful as you always fought away the knowledge of its being?
Or have I really just disappointed you that much?

There was a time, not so long ago, when I felt your pride.
There was a time when, even for my losses, you still saw what I could be.
Now, I see the ghost of myself through the eyes of the ghost of you.
Hating me will not bring him back.

Each day that passes brings your one bit closer;
closer to that shadow place on the hill where Jamie sleeps.
Will I ever see you again, before you go to rest there, too?
Or, have I already missed goodbye?
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
361 · Mar 2010
Dream Life
If we could live in dreams
there would be no question
I meet you in my dreams
and all is well.
There, we are safe,
there we are together.
There my arms hold you
and nothing will take you away.
- From Where I Find You
360 · Mar 2010
Distance
And her heart ceased beating
at the mere suggestion of him
Her breath grew quick and short

The thought of him rolled through her
like the thunder that crashed
like the rain that poured

And she wondered how he could not hear her cries
all those miles away
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
354 · Mar 2010
Contemplation
If I lost you tomorrow
if never you had really been mine
the moments we have shared
would still hold me for a lifetime.
- From Where I Find You
351 · Mar 2010
One Moment
If I were asked the day,
I could tell you the day.

If I were asked the hour,
I could tell you that, too.

If I were asked the minute,
I could paint it for you with words.

If I were asked the second,
I could draw you to it and you would never want to leave.

I choose one moment, though,
of bliss that will last me forever.

For, if you never uttered my name again,
I would always feel your hands on my eyes.

For, if you were to walk out of my life,
I would always remember the fire flies.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010
332 · Mar 2010
Deal With It
This is the reality I have created for myself
This is the emptiness I allow myself to feel
This is the shell that hosts passing, hollow emotions.

These are the hands that are useless in this world
These are the feet that will never truly dance
These are lungs that have ceased to catch breath for the beauty of the world

I go. I go. I keep going.
There is not much left but to go.
Numb, I move forward, but no distance passes beneath my feet.

I want something more, something better
The memory of true feeling haunts me
But it is all beyond my reach.

And the voice tells me to just deal with it.
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You
300 · Mar 2010
In the End
How many could say,
in the end,
that they have held pure joy in their hearts

How many could say,
in that final hour,
they they have truly loved

I have known joy and
I have felt love

What more is there to say?
Copyright Ellen Elizabeth Farris 2010- From Where I Find You

— The End —