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981 · Sep 2011
coffee, on Tuesday.
Stacy Finnigan Sep 2011
i know. i know.

it's not a big deal. nothing
MONUMENTAL.
it's easy as kindergarten. two
friends meeting.

but we two, we too
are different. and honestly,
i'm not sure which we
it will be.

the we from before
fear, the we from my memory.
Or. the present we, estranged
and fretful, seeing deeply without acknowledging.

how does that ring in
your tuned ears, dear?
do your eyes see?
and your mind know?

frightened as a beggar in a
king's court, that's i.
mere children, we are playing,
pretending all's well.

And you may be well
enough for you. but i, i
have almost come to let go
of you. for always.

because i do not think i
can cope if...
if this my fear be true
and this you IS you.

let's get this over with.
shall we say coffee, on tuesday?
fine. see you then.
(i pray.)
928 · Dec 2011
Damsel
Stacy Finnigan Dec 2011
i want to be done.

i want to be held.
by you, or you.
and some days
i only give the smallest **** which.

come on, one of you.
both of you.
be men, have tough conversations.
instead of tough reputations and soft hands.

just to have some certainty.
to know the difference
between my imagination and
your affections.

i am not altogether transparent
but you can see my hurt,
or desperation. whichever.
it's in my eyes the same as it's in yours.

we share demons, we three.
but you two, you hold
a sword each.
so slay them and save me.

or leave me.
758 · Sep 2011
Weekly/Weakly
Stacy Finnigan Sep 2011
this is my
plan.
goal.
dream.
hope.

but it's not
a likely truth.
a certain happening.
a probable occurrence.
a 99.9% chance.

to write poetry
by every saturday night.
by the end of sevens.
by midnight sunday morn.
by calendar's separation anxiety.

this week it
seems i've nothing to compose,
seems i've naught to present.
seems i've everything to ponder.
seems i've everything to hunger.

perchance next week
it will rain.
it will shine.
it will prime.
it will rhyme.
742 · Sep 2011
merciless, miraculous, me.
Stacy Finnigan Sep 2011
someDays all i want to
see is
someThing bigger than
myself.

i Was made for
the mountains
and They were made for
me.

that's Not true.
i Was made
for
the Maker of them.

the One who supplies
all Life and
good and truth
and Beauty.

yes, He is.
he Is love and lovely
with passion
and Deep wells of artistry.

everyThing he makes
is Expression and expressive
part of whole
yet I am different, says he.

highEr than mother nature
i Am daughter
of king of kings
prinCess, heroine.

i Look into the merciless
mirRor and see that
indeed
i Am something bigger than myself.
726 · Nov 2011
Frontier
Stacy Finnigan Nov 2011
is this a cruel thing to celebrate,
this severing of ties?

not when those ties were chains
and those chains ghoulish.

melodramatic? certainly.
overly so? of course.

hello, i'm female.
it's what we do.
sensationalize.

because we want to
be the prize and be prized.

and we want to know
that the west is wild and won.

and we want ties, ties
to our own ghosts and not hers.

they are the same they are, ghastly,
but ours are familiar to us
and so seem fairer, lovelier, no?

no?

they are not.

they are only cruel, ghostly, ghastly.
649 · Sep 2011
Before the Fall
Stacy Finnigan Sep 2011
i love you.
i just really love you.

i love that you are bold and distinct.
(and not completely unlike coffee.)

i love that you are warm and welcoming.
(and remind me of sweet summer sun.)

i love that you are unashamedly Southern.
(and i yearn for that homestead.)

i love that you are free, disciplined, committed.
(and too earnest to see the paradox.)

i love that you know you are arrogant, proud.
(and cover it with a humility that i reject.)

i love that you are always wanting to learn.
(and seek the One true Teacher.)

i love that you are not yet mine, not yet.
(and let me love you ever more from afar.)

i love that we may one day be One.
(and in mind, soul, body be so.)

i love you.
i just really love you.
635 · Sep 2011
Blind Assault
Stacy Finnigan Sep 2011
I don't think you know
(how could you?)
that every time I see your
(oh so bright)
face, I hurt
(ache).
I hurt deeply
(in the pit-of-my-stomach)
because I know
(just like the rest)
that your eyes
(so lively)
do not shine toward me
(a one who loves you).
She may love you too
(time will tell)
but I knew you
(before This you)
first and better
(and worse. This is worse).
I want you to
(do I?)
know the pain you can
(without knowing)
cause with that smile
(and those tears).
Then you will discover the
(among other things)
power you hold over me
(I gave it to you).
I gave it to you
(so freely)
hoping, hoping
(hoping)
beyond most of the reasons
(which are several)
that those
(so full)
eyes of yours would see
(as I see you)
me and see truth
(and a woman)
and
(and a jewel)
wisdom and laughter
(and a helper).
And so you do see
(all of this, you've told me)
and marvel at my heart
(and my life)
and yet you've chosen
(another)
someone other than me
(oh, deep is that wound!).
How could you?
(And yet I abide)
I will rest
(wait)
and revel
(and sing)
in the reality
(the absolute truth)
of who I am, who I am
(apart from you, ever)
and Who my Father is
(He created me, enough).
You, dear, are not enough for me
(you are not He)
but you are desired by me
(yet not defined by me)
(He created you, enough).
So have your time and
(I'll surely have mine)
forget me not
(I am here)
Always.
569 · Jan 2012
Walk Away
Stacy Finnigan Jan 2012
you walk away
(from me)
i walk away
(from you)

simple.
normal.
expected, even. but.

every time you walk away
(from me)
every time i walk away
(from you)

(i fear that) i might
never see you again.
(i fear that) i might
never see you again.

i can't imagine
living with that tension
in forever's form.

(if only) you saw
and knew that you are Seen.
(if only) you knew
and understood that you are Known.

simple.
glorious.
miraculous, even. but.
566 · Sep 2011
Harumph. no.
Stacy Finnigan Sep 2011
i refuse to believe
this is the real you.
might this mean i'm refusing reality?
maybe.
might i rather refuse reality than refuse you?
harumph. no.
so long, you. i'll take my reality
crushed and for-now sullen
as it may now be.

i refuse to believe
this is the real you.
i can see you, vividly,
inside that cast,
vastly smaller than the man you are.
some sudden and swift
injury has befallen you and you've retreated.

even you refuse to believe
this is the real you.
you are foolish but not stupid
and can tell truth
and reality from falsehood and false hoods.
you are scared but not weak
and from this you will emerge (victory!)
emboldened to emblazon new trails.

shall we tread them together?
harumph. no.
i'll meet you along the way, i'm sure.
(we'll see
about an us
when there's really
a you.)
542 · Dec 2012
My Last Turn
Stacy Finnigan Dec 2012
I don't think it's my turn to apologize.
I do that too much.
I don't think it's my turn to ask questions.

Or analyze or be
insightful or
in any way try to heal what feels broken even
if it's actually fixed.

I'm tired of fixing things and
of wanting to fix them.

I will make another attempt just so it's
clear, it's clear what I intended to convey.

After that, I'm done.
After that, I'll live in peace and hope
that one day along comes
a man who's man enough
to let me be a woman.

In truth. In beauty. In goodness.

— The End —