poems are just conversations
that begin and end
when your eyes
meet the word

and inspired
happens
in conversations
just like this one
and those other ones

i would be happy
to volunteer
as president
of your fan club

i have a little experience
working in and around
make-shift zoos

here's hoping
you stay inspired
so we can continue
the conversation

there are *** nights
but i think this one
can best be described
by omfg
i will be glad
to get 10-8
tohome

there is a whiskey there
and a hot bath
and a warm bed
code 23

looking back at me
from a 16th century painting

Count Alborghetti of Bergamo And His Son

it was your face
your hair
your eyes
your hands

i never had a photograph
of you before

i searched
until i found
the artist and the subject

holy ****
you really shouldn't
sneak up on me that way

i remember
being married to you
a thousand years before
and a couple of hundred
years after

but this image
is a shock to me

I have been sleeping
in the same bed
my whole life.

It never occurred to me
to trade it in on a new model.

My life has been filled
with nightmares.
I thought everybody had them.

And one day i realized
**** and violence
never followed me
to strange lands
and different beds.

The place where
I should have felt
most secure
was the one
most susceptible.

My bed is in the front yard now
too full of ghosts
for even Goodwill.

A broken down
hunk of wood
that doesn't understand
why it is being punished.

I figure
we'll have a burning party
when the weather is better

Because
I probably won't answer.

Electronic mail
Is good enough
For today
I guess

Don't call me
Not today
Anyway

I probably won't answer

I always have to wonder
When folks compliment me
On my wonderful
Imagination.

They never
Imagine
That my reality
Is just wider
Than most

a little poem came and perched
on my night stand
last night late
it sang the newest song
I've heard
in months and years

I thought it would wait
hang around
until I got ready to write it

but it flew far
away

your words flashed quickly
                       like bolts of lightning
each.brilliantly.illuminating
     charging my perception.

words pulsed
                       from you to me
     and back again
luring me through dark mazes.

the storm lights my way
                 magnetizing our connections
                                   melding our words.

phantom thoughts
   become real
                      loom large through
                 your alluring
                                 inducements.

seduction played into
     the power
                   of the idea.

wanting more than just
               vague reminiscences
    wanting to wrap my mind around
                                 true understanding.

mysteries, enigmas --
       reaching
                              always reaching.

enticed by the unknown
      i lean in
                  drawn by an attraction
             that eludes description.

i cannot extricate myself
              from the web of enchantment.

You come around
and smell so much like freedom
and my heart thinks
maybe this time
Paradise has stopped for me
too

But then your best compliment
missed its mark by two miles
which might be a little funny
if you consider all the hours spent
studying trajectory and aim
of bullets

Your words fail you.

We were never meant
to be complete in this lifetime.

Were I blind to truth
and should I wake
to find men
like trees walking,

I wonder what
miracles of humanity
I might find.

Transfiguration is made
of mud pies
and I am blessed
to see what I had missed.

my joints have launched
into full scale riot mode

i guess they are jealous
that my sinuses
have had me down and out

i am too old for my age
something
has got to give pretty soon

I never
Look for myself
In a mirror

That face never
Recognizes me
Back

Maybe in your words

Maybe in the lines of your poems

I will see
Something familiar
That seems like me

I keep asking
"don't you remember?"
and he thinks I mean
a walk in a mountain park
my bare toes in a cold stream

you would think
he could see through me
by now

there are lifetimes
behind this one

and if I can remember
why can't he?

i remember playing red rover
and ghosts in the graveyard

monopoly and chinese checkers
and yahtzee and spades

i remember playing wife
and mother

and employee of the month

i walk dangerously close
to the edges of my life
sometimes

but i never play there

maybe it was me
that cursed you
and i might admit it

you dreamed
there was a bird
singing in the corner
just a little off-key

woke fitful

tossed and turned

your little toe
ached
for no godly reason

a tingle here
a chill there

i am almost sorry

i just missed
your conversation

I carry my remorse
in bulging pockets
long years have done little

to diminish the weight
of my sins

I shine a little light
I smile a little song

as if to ward off
the reproach
that I imagine
in your eyes

There are too many
penalties
for loving you

those times when
my roots stretch deep
in barren soil

searching

I don't know
if you could guess
the urgency
of my need

the clouds whisper
how soon
until hope
rains

and I look
skyward
again

I just got
A friend request
From Tom Petty
Over on facebook.

I noticed
He didn't
Have any friends
Or photos.

He's on my playlist
If not
My friend list.

It is a pity.
Music has charms

Or so I've heard

The thing is -
everytime that window opens
I still see the possibility
and I want to fly away
to happily ever after.
I think sometimes
that if I learn to do enough things.
Learn the names of all the plants.
Then maybe I can get your approval.  
And there's always a moment
when it all comes crashing down again. Every time.  
Is it any wonder
that I both love you and hate you?

(I think it is telling me to sit still like this and reflect for a moment)

the rain brushed her hips along the fingertips of the mountains
someone is grinding a tear drop of mine between two stones

the moon is no help to me now

light sings a squeaky lullaby and i am lost to the rhythm

kicking my feet inside the womb of this sun
though I do not remember dancing or listening

she was a whisper that cried into a mountain
and I was her fantasy, slipping thoughtlessly into a dream

she was a wraith singing songs of longing
and the loveliest one of all was the one she sang to me

i followed the sound up the mountain
she was a faceless vision and my steps never faltered

the curve of time disappeared into the horizon
she was behind me, like a puzzle pressed against the sky
a sky giving birth to the back of my mind

she touched my hand and nodded upward
eyes alight with the shimmer of a summer moon

it's all impulse, there's very little conscious thought to it

every morning
I wake up to find
a handful of slightly chewed
wooden scrabble tiles
arranged artlessly
around my bed

could it be

that the little dog
is trying
to tell me something?

When I was young
My mother used to offer to end her life
And take me with her

But I have noticed
That I walk away from tragedy
Without a scratch

Last week I found myself praying . . .
God, you take this pain
Or end me

And there was no answer

But the next day
When the storm rolled in
And my coworkers scurried away
And I prepared to meet the fate I prayed for
My car key flew off the key ring
And under my car
On my knees
Searching for the only thing that could get me going again
I realized the irony of my situation

Ten-4 dear Creator
I hear you
Loud and clear

and i know that i need to do some cleaning out
i just might as well say
that i should probably start with me

i started a stressful new job
around the same time
that i became a reiki practitioner
but i put one away
and focused on the struggle of the other one

i find myself pulling away from folks
who don't know how to actually have a conversation

i see all this bitterness and ugly
seeping out in my attitude
and i swear i know better

i need to get out and visit the trees
but **** it is so cold
bear with me
i will be a better me tomorrow

I got to work this morning
and darned the sock
I was wearing.
Pulled weeds.
Talked to some folks
about foodways
on the Kentucky frontier.
Started a fire
and cooked
dandelion fritters.
Pulled more weeds.
Plyed some yarn.
And drove home in the rain.

Ready for my days off.

because i was bored
disgruntled
impatient
i thought i would
take my mind
off the emergencies of the night
by reaching
down
down
into the furthest reaches
of your poetry stash
thought it might
be a pleasant diversion
and keep my mind
occupied
for a minute or two

it didn't work
i scrolled and scrolled
to get to the beginning
the website bogged down
the server crashed
the electric flickered

no dice

you are more vast than i imagined

My generous hands
forgot how to pray.
I watched the butterfly
rise on strong winds
hoping that in the opening
and closing
of her silent wings
I might remember.

My heart is vacant.
The words all wandered off
and I've been searching-
for what
I can't name.

Hands wide open
and waiting.

My knees tremble-
ache-to please again.
But my hands won't remember
and the words won't come back

for that next
bit of information
to come across the radio

units cd 12

subject detained

no injuries

sometimes i hold my breath
to try to listen harder

i hold a life in my hands
in my headset
and if i could put myself
in between my units and danger
i would gladly

but sometimes all i can do
is listen

the first day
i dreamed a bear
walked past me
while i was in bed.

He took no notice
and turned
and walked back
down the stairs.

The next day
i dreamed
i caught
a hundred sharks.

They were going
in the freezer
to feed us
through the winter.

My dreams seem to be
saying
that I needn't be afraid
of things with big teeth.

Sometimes
our dreams
see clearer
than we do.

there are differing opinions
i would guess
and i am not a scholar

a wise woman once said something
about
feeling as if no fire
could warm her
and it is still true

how do i know
when it is art?
when no matter
where i am
a syllable escapes from my heart
oh

maybe loud enough
that my supervisor
asks if i am alright

because sometimes
dams are meant to break
if not by a crash, bang, boom
then maybe by a barely
audible
"oh"

Am I real, today?
Hovering somewhere between
the darkness and the light
like a spirit
or a dream
I feel the vibrations
of a thousand
heart beats.
You felt it, too.
And if the heavens tremble,
locked in an invisible struggle
So must we.
The rain was real
but it's gone
now.
And knowing
that you and I and he
all felt the same void
last night in our dreams
suddenly
makes it all seem
less lonely.

watching me
in my dream,
my old ghost

and i am not
going
to call you out
just yet

but you should
probably know

that i can see you
too

my mother texted the other day
apparently
my brother was arrested
after an altercation at the dollar store

it sounds very kentucky
i know

i thought it has nothing
to do with me

i mean in all reality
i contact him once
every five to seven years
to see if he is capable
of an adult relationship
and we're not due
for another try until 2017 or after.

but then i looked at the mugshot
and i looked at the charges
and i remembered
all the times
he threatened to harm me

and maybe
i have a little yet
to process

I scan the skies
looking for signs
or omens

the flight of birds
might echo
the will of God

I search puddles
for future scenes
still empty of you

how do you
search
for the prophet?

runes
riddles
totems?

what augury will tell
if you might be
coming back?

somebody's in my head again
stretched out between those two earholes
they've done been in there for two days
maybe more
don't know what they're lookin for

i keep all the shiny stuff put away
with the butterflies
and the spiders webs

and my thoughts
they all wear different languages
the kind i talk in my sleep
and you won't know them anyhow
you haven't met them too close before

somebody's in my head again
pushing,pushing
straining, yearning

and i wish i knew who it could be

just me
and the little dog
and a headache from hell

dishes
are done enough

laundry is put away

too hot
to move

and no rain
in sight

Your loss must have exploded from your heart.
I heard that small, still voice of longing as the ash
settled from the sky --
melancholy floated over the hills on the wind.
I tried to catch the emotion in a mayonnaise jar
like those lightning bugs when we were little--
But, I never thought
and it turns out that the holes in the lid were too large.

I was sorry to see your grief set loose
from my childish jar
to lose a thing and then lose the sadness--
to be doubly bereft.
I expected the feeling to have floated
halfway across the country by now . . .
and, yet, there it still is
draped around your shoulders
as if to keep you company on lonely nights.

I spent the day with dishes and laundry.
This evening wrestling two dog
a cat
And a teenager
On the sofa.
My face is on fire
Now.
Tomorrow may be
A bad day.

fort manager brought me a plant
this morning
he called it pennycress
but I couldn't find it in my books

he said try
shepherd's purse
and that was there

but the seed pods
are not heart-shaped
and the seeds are green

field pennycress
I know your name
and I hope you aren't
semi-carnivorous
like the other one

I wonder
what are you good for?

I never pitied Ophelia
enough.
Never understood her
grief-

to lose and be lost.

I think I must be crazy now.
My mind wandered off
when you did
and I don't know
how to fetch it back.

He loves me
He loves me not
rue and remembrance
and something forgotten too

the river sometimes
calls my name
there are flowers
there

Poetry is a place
outside
under blue skies
breezes trickle by
clouds wink
hills look on

Poetry is a place
where I am more than the chains
that bind me to my desk
during lunch
I'll slip them off with my shoes
arrive barefoot
and free

i am six hours in
to a twelve hour shift
and i didn't get
my afternoon nap

i have consumed
a *** of coffee
thus far

you might want
to nudge me
if you see me
sleeping

the struggle bus
just backed over me

and I have to do it all again
tomorrow

and if the rhythm
punctuating my day
feels just like an unseen heart
beating between
my two trembling hands
{maybe it was a forgotten song . . .}
I am still left to wonder
at the comfort felt
when your imagined hand
brushed back my hair

I wandered through dreams
this morning.

Walking and walking.

And all of a sudden
I heard the door open
at the bottom of the stairs
-in a house I haven't
lived in since I was twelve-

and a female voice
called my name

it sounded so very
familiar
but I can't
quite
place it

maybe a clue
to lost memories?

he says he can't talk to me
the reason doesn't really
matter

my son won't talk to me
I can't pretend it is a phase
anymore

the nice man at work
who said
he would help me build the fire
didn't hear me
even the third time
I asked.

really starting to think
there is something wrong
with my voice

I'll wear my hair long
and throw my lipstick away.
I'll go where you go
and rest where you rest.
I'll hold you so close
that the darkness
can't wedge itself
between us.

I'll feed your heart
and tempt your soul
and you will always
be enough
for me.

But some days . . .
when I'm sideways
and the weather
wants to change
I may look yonder
and see a shining star

I may smile

and chatter

and fly free

there comes a day
after great personal tragedy
when you know that you will live again
though you aren't certain
that living will ever matter

i wished you out of my dreams
once too often

now there's nothing left to miss

every once in a while
i send you a note
two words
simple and true
'forgive me'

the ritual started
as a way
to say
goodbye
when i died
and before i was
reborn

so every once in a while
i re-trace old scars
and beg you
to forgive me

and when you answer,
if you answer
you say you already have
forgiven
me

but your voice
doesn't feel like forgiveness
and your heart feels hard

and i keep hoping
that one day i will ask again
and you will say
'forgive me'

when i get home this morning
i'm gonna throw a log
or two on the fire
and oil that wheel
and ply some yarn

maybe

if the bobbin
doesn't break
and i'm not too tired
and the fire's not already out
and the yarn doesn't knot up

maybe i will

The last time I had a vision of him
He had gone to live in indiana
And the movie that played out
In my head
Referred to a spiritual crisis
That I couldn't have known
He was experiencing.

Today's movie
Was more disturbing
And I don't know
What I can do
To help him