Memories of Ignorance!

Survey the bay.
Dolphins play just off shore in sapphire half-light.
Roll of warm water,
Lapping jetty's edge.
Ocean treasures frolic.
Almost laughing in unison.

Tranquil in virtual silence they splash.
Warmth left engraved in heartfelt memories.
Was no tropical lagoon.
Torbay as a child.
My home.
Distant to me now.
Fond memories bless my mind.

Parents in tow.
Not sure who led who.
Not dolphins at all.
Porpoise.
Still elegant.

Departing parents separated.
Never forgot the place.
I miss the sea.
Like a dolphin I'm free.

On my last visit.
Committed Father to the flames.
Without him.
I'm shamed.
My memories of him.
Few and far between.
He too was a poet.
When alive.
Had no chance to say 'bye bye'
A total lack of interest felt.
So tell me please.
When at his funeral.
Why in hell's name did I melt.




By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

no, no, love,
tonight, we are going to become the monsters
we hid from when we were
small.
do not be polite, do not kiss softly,
make me bleed, make me vacant,

let’s release our demons.

do not fall for a boy with a pirate heart, even if he will
cross five thousand miles of sand and ocean to be with you,
carrying nothing more than loneliness and longing in his cargo hold.
those things will bond you both together like an oath, but
blood is thicker than water and soon, the promises will weigh you down
like rocks in your pocket, keeping your lungs and heart empty.
he will not stay, something will always call him away in the morning,
even after you've spent the night wrapped in his strong arms,
counting the stars from the undersides of the highest sail.
you will listen to his stories, for they will stretch beyond the decks
of his ship and make you feel both empty and full at once,
but you cannot rely on a tattooed smile to forge you a key to the world.
eventually, he will leave you on stranger shores, soaking and breathless,
wondering when the next tide will bring him close to you again.
but you are not a ***** he found bar-side, never call yourself that.
you must be unpredictable and wild as the sea itself, bottling storms
into your heartbeat and braiding a barrier reef into your hair.
you are calypso, dangerous and beautiful and unyielding,
and if he comes back ten years from now to set foot on the shore,
you will not be waiting. you cannot always be waiting.
he might tell you he loves you. but even then, he is only speaking
about the seventy percent he is familiar with, the part that is pulled into
rises and falls by the moon, a dna sequence patterned by the earth itself.
do not answer him. steal his ship by sunrise instead and plan to follow
the treasure map that you've long since forgotten. never come back.
leave him with a seashell at his side and he will remember at last
that the reason he loved the ocean was because it sounded like you.

once upon a time, he called me Jasmine. princess,
rub my lamp to see all your wishes
come true.
i had red nails, they stained the walls as he kept saying
"you’re so lovely, you’re divine".
drown me until i fill myself with
waste and
melted snow.
maybe i am the ***** you always thought.
i walk among foggy sidewalks, breached with beer
and lust. i was once a girl who wanted it all.
now i just want a drink in one hand, yours in another,
neon lights penetrating, entering,
and you calling my name until i cannot hear anything
else.
i have demons, ghosts, parasites.
i drive them away with butcher knives and spider mascara.
won’t you stay a while,
darling?

God is watching from beneath a department store window display:
Six floors lined head to toe with glass sheets and metal dividers,
Holding up the paper town- a city hall
Of half off summer sales.
The translucent sheets encompass the cold air conditioned empty space
That seeps in between the wheels of rolling racks, and pushes up
Against the impenetrable windows
That reflect the ash tray gray office buildings,
Looming in the backdrop
Square cubicles full of 9-5 daydreams
And lukewarm non-fat lates,
The iridescent shimmer of the dark exterior
Casts a shadow over the entire block,
Dancing in the reflection
Of a little Asian girl three floors up
Running in between the clothing racks-
Pitter pattering above the ceiling of a five star
Macy's restaurant
Packed with narrow tables and people
Alone and comfortable:
A spectacle to anyone across the street
Brave enough to look up.
Is this what the world has become?
Row after row of sorry complacency:
30% off signs and colorful adds
Drop into a diner waiting room;
The black-clad waiter paces back
And forth, oblivious that his every movement
Is being observed by someone perched on a ***** step of union square.
Safety comes in numbers,
And we forget ourselves
To the dull drone of elevator music
And neon ceiling lights projecting onto
Our downcast eyes.
Slouched against a fashionably bare
White metal chair, at a white table with white walls,
Echo the same vibrato of an asylum.
Arms bent over your head,
Brown rumpled shirt and blue jeans,
Who is watching who?
You look out of the window, just the way
The elderly man in the green vest does,
Two stories up,
The same ***** square glares back at you,
As a few teenage boys take a picture
Of the very architecture you are having
Your overpriced conversation and lunch of some sort of past.
The observer is also the observed,
And nothing goes unnoticed
Except the spectacle, itself.
Hand in hand, we carry our insecurities to the mall
And let them wander off on their own
As long as they're back by 3pm
And haven't done anything drastic
That would betray us.
Comfortability and conformity dance across the sleek walls of the Cheesecake Factory
As a homeless man drags his feet across the littered floor below,
Angrily sighing as stops and darts his eyes
Quickly scanning the moving forms within the indifferent architecture,
Before he abruptly picks up pace
And carries on.
The best view in the city:
A roof top full of anxious visitors
Who only look out over the top,
Afraid to look down and see themselves
In the reflection of the face
Of a blurred and changing crowd,
Hurrying away from now
Avoiding eye contact and fiddling with their jackets.

A burning star went out last night,
While I paced across the floor-
For, nothing casts as bright a light
As that which is no more.

I saw it flicker distantly,
Across the tortured skies,
Lamenting it's torment, patiently
Because passion yearns demise.

And now, as its reflection wanes
With the subtle, indifferent moon,
Rays pour through my windowpane
To announce its emerging doom.

Oh, fragile beams, you're not alone:
The world is too at bay,
As you beat against the night- unknown,
For, your splendor casts decay.

Yes, I've seen the sun set many nights,
And held my head to sea,
But never felt a greater fright
Than the light quivering in me.

Empty asphalt parking meter,
Suburban drop out,
Accidental, half baked,
She-really-didn't-mean-to-
Love story of the empty
Alleyways and crowded
Cross streets, full of sober promises
And five day old
Chewing gum
Wadded up and discarded
On the faded, cement floor.
Blood pulsating
Through fifteen dollar
Cheap leather combat boots.
The almost cold, October air
Wheezes through halfway parted
Lips and abstract fleece jackets,
Stained by yesterday
And the subtle scent of pizza sauce
Evaporated grease and
Paper thin
Apologies.
Nothing grows here,
As worn out tires skid to a stop
In front of fluorescent bank signs,
Illuminating the way
To a safe ride home
Along with a three dollar waiting fee.
Heavy upon our translucent veins,
The world pushes down onto
Our vulnerable skin:
Hold your breath,
And one-two-three,
You won't even know what hit you.
Pulsating rhythms of life
Of something like Vicodin,
But with a stronger kick-
Bloodshot,
Our eyes dart back and
Forth, until eventually they lose track
Of everything alive enough to feel it.
Vibrant shades of yellow and red,
Lose their faces within
The fogged glass of the department store
Refrigerator. Who is there
To see the transparency of
The off-brand seven up
And diet doctor pepper?
Momma, I have shied away  
From life:
A coward too preoccupied with
Monday.
Death and damsels
Pull at my indifferent coat strings,
Until all I hear is the muffled sigh
Of yesterday
And that of the tomorrow
I will never see.
Oh, twisted fate,
Don't fail me now:
Palms up, I mindlessly surrender:
Who I was
For who I will never be,
Amen to amen,
Crammed up against the scratched,
Metal lining of a transit bus
Between the middle and end
Of a crowded route-
Nothing breathes here:
Hold your seconds until
Reality pushes up and
You can heave in the polluted
Scent of half past five
And missed doctor appointments.
Neck arched back,
Life flows down my esophagus
In the vessel
Of a Benadryl
And vitamin C. It's all the same
When you've bottled up your
Emotions, and sold them for
A pretty price
To anyone poor enough to buy
Them. Leaving you with a penchant
For emptiness, and a stomach full
Of vacant ambition
Sealed to the brim by an
Extended hand, not quite close enough
To feel it.
Bang, bang,
The sound of closure haunts my every move,
Driving me closer to my final hour
And away from the one before it.
I'm no longer with you:
Practiced, proposed, rehearsed and perfected.
Life after death is an encore-
A standing ovation,
So loud
That it drowns out reality.

summer mornings. sweat, sticky, salty.
licking cracked hangover lips, tasting juices
molded, squeezed, smashed.
fitting together like two folded puzzle pieces.
summer nights. bent over, kissing bruises, battle
cries.
fumbling and stumbling through sheets, thunder clouds,
vapors of ***. alone.
but alone with each other.