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"chairlift" poems
When He asks, quietly, if I still think of You
 even when I’m here, 
I say "always." why? because snow falls just as softly here as it did during our first kiss, when it melted on your flushed cheeks in the mountain light of our childhood. 
 I think of your face as it was, like the neighbor’s cornfield, fogged but bright through the windows of your car 
 as you raced me home in the pastoral dawn
 to beat my parents' alarm clock. now when I look at you,
 I see the ruins of the storm: the once-grand Victorians of our town, 
sunken and foul, 
 the spray painted x’s, signaling “condemned,”
 barely masked by the slush. this new color in the landscape of your countenance, is 
a translucent grey
— I think it is called indifference. They told us “distance extinguishes small flames,
and fuels great fires.” my breath burns cold and sharp, 
 like the icicles that hung outside your mother’s store, 
 when You told me that it was easy to hurt me,
 and You didn’t know why. those words froze me solid like citrus trees killed in a late frost.
 He says that He still see the pinkness in my own cheeks,
 when I talk of You. I sigh and say that I will try harder 

to stop loving You, but 
the chairlift rocks and shifts the spears in my chest and I wince,
 because I know I will for all my life.
0
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
kay-mora
Mont Tremblant
When He asks, quietly, if I still think of You
 even when I’m here, 
I say "always." why? because snow falls just as softly here as it did during our first kiss, when it melted on your flushed cheeks in the mountain light of our childhood. 
 I think of your face as it was, like the neighbor’s cornfield, fogged but bright through the windows of your car 
 as you raced me home in the pastoral dawn
 to beat my parents' alarm clock. now when I look at you,
 I see the ruins of the storm: the once-grand Victorians of our town, 
sunken and foul, 
 the spray painted x’s, signaling “condemned,”
 barely masked by the slush. this new color in the landscape of your countenance, is 
a translucent grey
— I think it is called indifference. They told us “distance extinguishes small flames,
and fuels great fires.” my breath burns cold and sharp, 
 like the icicles that hung outside your mother’s store, 
 when You told me that it was easy to hurt me,
 and You didn’t know why. those words froze me solid like citrus trees killed in a late frost.
 He says that He still see the pinkness in my own cheeks,
 when I talk of You. I sigh and say that I will try harder 

to stop loving You, but 
the chairlift rocks and shifts the spears in my chest and I wince,
 because I know I will for all my life.
Continue reading...
37
I sit on the edge And swing my legs over. I think to myself “Should I do it?” “Would someone hear me If I screamed out as I fell?” No, it would all be drowned out. Am I too late To change this terrifying fate? I’ve committed So there’s no turning back There’s a rock below, I might hit it. That would certainly end my journey Down this track. It makes me quiver And turns my thoughts to you. Oh how I wish you were here! This dizzying height Makes me unsteady. That terrible sight, I’m sure I’m not ready. Yet I still go. I inch closer to the edge. I hope that I don’t Hit my head. Still closer I get, Barely holding on. Just telling myself, “At the end of this song.” There it is, The last blaring chord, My cue to jump And land so hard. So I push off, As if on chairlift, And let out a scream. But you, You cannot hear me, Just the splash as I hit the water With a dull thumping “thud” Like a sack of potatoes, In the hot summer sun. I surfaced in a panic, Soon changed to delight I had conquered my fear And vanquished my fright. The high dive became my favorite That very night.
0
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 7:37 PM UTC
a-leo-keenan
The Tall Jump
I sit on the edge And swing my legs over. I think to myself “Should I do it?” “Would someone hear me If I screamed out as I fell?” No, it would all be drowned out. Am I too late To change this terrifying fate? I’ve committed So there’s no turning back There’s a rock below, I might hit it. That would certainly end my journey Down this track. It makes me quiver And turns my thoughts to you. Oh how I wish you were here! This dizzying height Makes me unsteady. That terrible sight, I’m sure I’m not ready. Yet I still go. I inch closer to the edge. I hope that I don’t Hit my head. Still closer I get, Barely holding on. Just telling myself, “At the end of this song.” There it is, The last blaring chord, My cue to jump And land so hard. So I push off, As if on chairlift, And let out a scream. But you, You cannot hear me, Just the splash as I hit the water With a dull thumping “thud” Like a sack of potatoes, In the hot summer sun. I surfaced in a panic, Soon changed to delight I had conquered my fear And vanquished my fright. The high dive became my favorite That very night.
Continue reading...
48