I swear,
I was laying in bed this morning
minding my own business.
Letting the children get themselves
ready for school
and intent
on falling back asleep for a little while.
And in-between
the text messages
and the phone calls
came a hug
from someone I couldn't see.

I sent out a panicked message or two.
Tell me that you are okay
so I don't have to worry.

I swear,
it wouldn't be so bad
if the invisible
would just leave a calling card.

don’t let your
lipstick wear,
if it feels the urge to,
put some more on,
if you can’t find the
stick in your purse,
just try and get through
the night, the morning
will be kind,
i promise it’s not
a waste of time,
don’t let your
shirt drip,
don’t let your
buttons wave
beneath your waist,
choose a pair that
fits tighter around
the hips,
tomorrow will be kind,
use your eyes to talk
use your eyes to deny,
use your words with me,
tell me where your
lipstick is hiding.

Hints of maple kiss each of
your highlander grog fingertips.
The smell of her shampoo
pierces & permeates throughout
your living room, lingering still
to this day, on your pillow.

You told her you'd make a perfume
that smells like the car heater on
long drives home for Christmas.

Aromas of her laundry detergent
still live in your spine
like LSD.
When you turn your neck a
certain way you fall back
into trances of her & 1997.

Vick's Vaper Rub, NyQuil
Cough Syrup breath, with
a 104 degree fever. She
sobbed when her last
sea monkey died

You called her cartographer.
Intricate trails of herself connecting
each board of your apartment floor.
Charted long ago when her
candle still burned scents of warmth.
The art of burning,
a front the fire place of
maple logs where you told her
to "Let go."

aaah, the pain of the absence
and the futility of the longing
how these two start to linger
and grow bitterer and longer
as relentless time trudges on
to the inevitable conclusion
that everything is a shadow
slippery and elusive to the end
these things were never meant to be
except just as impressions
of sweet possibilities
and shaky memories
of things we think we did

i am the miracle boy
i spoke the day i was born
and had a full set of teeth
i'm the one that the crocodiles fled
i tell you this but not in jest
i brought down a Boeing 747
with a single shot of my sling
the sun winked an apology for daring to be hot
i did  not fancy wiping a sweaty brow
with that fancy white handkerchief of mine
the symbol of a heart i broke under a moonlit sky
i'm the one whose wardrobe tailors die to fit out
i'm every woman's peculiar heartbreak
and every man's litany of sad tales of loss
i walked through fire and up a wall like an ant
i marched through a hail of bullets but none touched me
when i pass by all the girls rush to have a glimpse of me
this beautiful mother's boy with charm too much to fight
i have gone into bars and made patrons cry to buy me one
my list of spectacular feats  is endless and longer than eternity ....

You’re coy and detached
Like the proud moon
Bathed in silvery light

You’re so distant
Like the timid stars
Twinkling across the void

I am hot and boisterous
Like that old sun above
Melting your reticence away

Woo me as you do the sea
Stir up upheavals in the seasons
Of my renewed yearnings

With you life is a fantasy
Resplendent in stellar light
As the ancient dance  intensifies

once
i sat alone at a civil war battlefield
in a picnic shelter
at dusk in the fading light.
i sang old songs
to amuse myself.
my voice is not golden
but there was no one
to annoy.
i noticed
at the far end of the shelter
the faded out shape
of a man
standing
and then another
and another.
there must have been
a dozen in the end.
i suppose
it had been
a goodly number of years
since the old soldiers
had heard a woman
singing.
i sang all the old songs
i knew.
the sound of a car
and headlights
diverted my attention
when i looked back
the company was gone

yesterday's class involved
serving the suicide caller
if you know me
you may suspect that I have met this issue
a time or two before
some days I looked it in the mirror

there was real struggle
on several faces around the room
everybody reneged on last night's plans
nobody felt like playing games
being social

I wandered off
sat at the lake
watched the water in the reservoir
placid and blue-green
and wandered back to sit
in my room

the pied piper of somewhere
wandered down the hall with a guitar
and we all followed
sang songs for a couple of hours
make a joyful noise
is sometimes the best therapy

and after the pied piper
and all the merry girls disappeared
back down the hall
two very real conversations
snuck up on me
out of the blue

it will take some time
to digest all the information
sometime after midnight
a text came to my phone
with the message
"be still, and know that I am God"

my job may be to rescue the perishing
but there is someone who will rescue me

I wish you would take my hand
and walk away with me.
Conversations may float
from autumn branches
or we may find
that silence is sweeter.
There are wildflowers somewhere

   -waiting-
to wave in the wind.

There is a rock
high on the hill
where distant drums
still pray.

I want to take you there.

Drop your Grudge Rants
by the door
We Will Not Tolarate
This Anymore

Edit and toss Distasteful Rhymes
Ugly Poems with Vain designs

Haughty thoughts and
bitter words
Childish petty accusing verbs

Who did What to Who and When
Will this Clusterfuck never end?

Selfish actions, Spoiled Children
We Refuse to be your Minions

Like CNN
And Drone Fox news

We've had enough of
Self Serving views

Hurting hearts, far and wide
tender Poets with
tenuous pride

Yet, Strutting and Indignant
for who I ask?
All those involved,
A Donkeys ***

Not a home for
Egotistical Zealots
Nor a place for
flinging pellets

We come in Peace, HP to share
Not get caught in ugly snares

And to the few that
have the gaul.

"If you have nothing decent to say,
say nothing at all"

YOU CHOOSE TO USE
HP THIS WAY.
GO AWAY. FIND SOME
WHERE ELSE TO PLAY.

●HELLO●HELLO●HELLO●**
                

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved