Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Looking down onto a green cloth
Of Spring moth and dirt
(I wonder, are your eyes are even open?)
Shifting confusion
Opposite our simple, detangled spool of kisses.
I won't request your presence for now,
I will dream you up
As you
Heal me
And Spin me around
In my white summer dress.
The sweet taste of a rare memory-
Descend upon me!
Heal me
Because recently
Hospital beds have been my inspiration.
Sanitized hands shine under flourescents
Lighten-Ing microscopic flaws
(How I wish for a G-d-sent strike of light,
A real charge of electricity,
Atmospheric reminder of my mortality)
But as I face my immortal fate,
Naked under this recycled hospital gown,
Helpless against the white coats and wheelchairs.
I
Fall
Into one
Before I fall for your words
Or into them.
Im crippled when I'm with you
I'm numb when I'm without
You,
Disguised in your readied speech.
Heal Me
Like you did the night we met
Our frozen moment-
Fossilized desire for you
My fire for you
Our raw, rare flame
Red like the steak
I cooked for you
Or the one
I placed
On my blacks and blues
Reveal your healing hands
Because I can't trust your eyes
As they've lied
Again.
Tempted by the fall
We stand tall
Or try.
In reality we are
Listening
Limping
Towards tops of imprinted impressions...
Infallible storytelling are the forgotten fossil,
Layers of sediment
Preserved remains of useless lessons learned
Hints to a life lived.

Nostalgia

I liked the silver forks better
When they were out of their drawers
Beautiful in their disarray

Now,
Mummified in their blue plastic coat,
They feel constricted.

Why
Must you Organize?
Distinguish between prongs?
And dips?
And Blades?

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Raw and Rare

Raw and Rare

Nothing is as it was
As it is
As it should be.
Strange as an ice-capped horizon with
Pastel pinks and yellows forming a descending arch
Vanilla beans sprinkle
As powdered sugar dusts over
The Mountain top.
The top of this mountain rests
Above buried, unheard sound
Veiled and untouched
Cones of frozen earth
Stand weary of the ice
Inviting our knight and shining Gravity
Down.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Ode to Obama

Carrying me with swift moments
Into the movement
Of the new.
Fresh faces, like covergirls
I'm in awe like you are the 8th wonder
Of the thundering parade.
Tshirts with your face,
This city is laced with your spirit and your voice
In all the noise
Yours is softest
And closest to my ear.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Inverted Moon

A Full moon floats between black music,
Scripted stars.
Nodding synchronously,
Rotating heavy eyelashes.
Imagined dark seas of black liquid life.
But that was long ago,
In a time when the world was fantastically bigger,
A time when imagination and science competed for a crowned truth and imagination won.
A time when the dark pools of lethal basaltic lava were thought to be inviting pools of water.
Today we know better, we know smaller, we know science-
I know that the same moon dances on this earth, inside of her,
With the synchronized movement of her breath,
Between her stomach and the lining of her belly,
Bypassing the hollow inversion
Where her uterus once lived healthily
And happily willing to expand its walls and house new life.
Fear of abandonment,
Of further hollowing of her insides,
She moves further into herself.
Cradling empty space,
Rocking the notion of a grand finale,
A shooting star in her black night.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Twilight

Twilight

Like a drug, i open my veins and invite you in.
We can know each other,
Get high on one another,
But when you start to fade,
To change colors-
Yellows to red to a darker shade of blue,
I travel the untraveled, transient winds
To find.
To lose.
Last night I found fears I never knew I had
I dreamt the cells in my body were multiplying by the millions.
That same day,
Alkylating, anti-neoplastic agents were pumping through the veins i opened up for you,
and the ones before you.
And i was left helpless
in my hospital bed
knowing that
My weakness-
was a product of selfish blindness
of the choice I made between
gold and coal.
i watched my hand reach out to all things that glittered.
but as the saying goes...
your golden entrance, upstaged you silver-plated exit!
And if I could reach out and touch you, feel you in the flesh
I would choose the fantasy.
The over-the-moon,
man-on-the-moon fantasy that rears it's head during twilight.
Those fleeting moments
Between day and night
that slip through my hands
like quicksand.
I do what I please in those moments.
Consequences fall to the gutter as they themselves question their place in this 24 hour, bookended experience.
Products of day or night?
I ask myself the same,
Fearless in the face of misguided deed.