Saturday, October 4, 2008

oh, mr. moon

i bet you didn't know that if
you squint your eyes at the night sky
you can catch the moon singin' his lament
an old hat tipped low over one eye
he's lost his lady love, they say
she was too much for him to handle
she left him for a brighter star
so out he went, just like a candle
his light doesn't shine no more.
so now he sings the blues at night,
in smoky bars that reek of gin
and now he's just a daytime ghost
consumed with all that could've been.

but i bet that he could tell a tale
a story like you've never heard
from his high perch among the stars
he sees it all, knows every word.
he sees the boy eating worms on a dare
he sees his mother yell and scold him,
he sees the old woman lay her husband down
wanting so desperately just to hold him.
oh, moon, come down from that lonely bar,
come down and sing me off to dreams,
where moons can fall in love with stars
and nothing is quite what it seems.

everything i've got

everything i've got's unfinished
my hair color's always changing.
edge of twenty, hurricane
like autumn, rearranging.

one thing that i haven't got,
that i can't claim as mine:
it's true, my feet have got sole, but
it isn't the right kind.

but if i'm no ginger rogers
then you're no fred astaire -
we'll do the waltz or laugh trying,
and make up for skill with flair.

all i've got is little words
to take me faster, higher
all it takes: two syllables,
the spark that starts the fire.

i know i'm yet in progress -
still tangled up, still taking shape
so in this chaos, i take my pen
and, on paperback, make my escape.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

small (better title later)

i can still remember now
the days when we were small.
the bathtub was our pirate ship
we jumped, but couldn't fall.

barely children, i and you
were smaller than we ever knew.

we played a game of tug-o-war
i thought to let you win
(or maybe i was paralyzed by
that constant, sweetest grin).

barely children, you and me
were in far deeper than we could see.

but when i tugged, i found that you
had fled the war, and stole the rope.
hitting the ground, i looked and i found
my little hands grasped only hope.

while still a child, you gave to me
my first lesson - too hard, too early.

today they say that i am grown.
i'm older now, but still i own
these same childish hands
these same childish feet
keeping in time to
that same childish beat.

but now -

i know a jump will bring a fall
and my city bathtub's far too small.

maybe one day i will forget
these things that i now know
i'll tell my feet their work's complete
and small, smaller i'll grow.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

at shore, at sea

you were the secret inside my smile
now you're the blue behind my eyes.

endless nights spent carelessly
the future in my outstretched hand
why couldn't you tell - why didn't you say -
our future was made of grains of sand?

waiting at shore with a flag and a shout,
a mind full of you and a heart full of doubt.

i drank it in as a thirsty child,
your name my life, your words my prayer,
but came to find that my greedy cup
was filled with only empty air.

floating at sea, longing for shore.
floating at sea, longing for more
than a heart full of doubt and a mind full of you,
a heart full of doubt and a mind full of you.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

five and dime

and now, my most recent - i finished this at about 1:30 this morning.

the man at the corner of fifth and main
dressed in colorful rags from head to toe
will sell you your future in a cardboard box,
"come on, baby, don't you wanna know?"

i tossed a quarter in his direction
i grabbed the old box to put on my shelf
for rainy days, but it was empty; he
started quoting shakespeare, talking to himself

it's not to be, it's not to be, it's not to be

and the happiest man that i ever knew
died in front of the old five and dime
employed by the city to sing the blues
for a dollar or two, he'd sing you a rhyme

people are always willing to listen to
their troubles sung low by a man on the street
whispering "now, this man, he's seen real problems"
and tossing a crumpled old five at his feet.

his eyes, blue and cloudy, they couldn't see
he hadn't known soap for almost a year
he beckoned me over, his smile ablaze
with some frenzied truth to grace my ear.

"don't wait" he said simply, his voice all low
and colored with years of hardships and snow.

he died later that day, his toothy grin
stuck to his face like an old billboard sign
i'm still turning his words inside my head
the old man that died by the five and dime.

lullabies and long goodbyes

if i could just see you again
i'd make sure to say goodbye.
we never even had 'hello'
and all that word implies.

i'd catch the words slipping from your lips,
take the sadness from your eyes
steal one last look, to tuck away,
keep in my pocket for the day
i can't recall your face.

i would, i would, i would.

if i could just see you again
i'd have you sing me off to sleep.
you'd whisper me a melody
i'd pray for you my heart to keep.

i'd catch the tune falling from your mouth
so selfishly i'd keep you here
take the moonlight from your eye
steal the sun out of the sky
so i could hear your voice.

i would, i would, i would.

i'd promise you a long goodbye
but promises are soon to die.
i'd steal your sorrow and your grief
but i always was a rotten thief.
you'd sing me a lullaby
stand on tiptoes, reach the sky.

i wouldn't even beg a 'hello.'
i would be content with a goodbye.
i wouldn't ask to follow you
if you would just sing a lullaby.

i would offer you my little world.

i would, i would, i would,
if you would.


hide and seek

crouching, breathless, in the closet
tucked away among fancy furs,
mothballs and mahogany.
footsteps - i draw a cautious breath -
and exhale slowly, sure of this:
i will be found.
someone is seeking me.

dwindling numbers, the countdown finished -
uncovering eyes from an impatient hand.
steps: cautious, moving toward confidence

i will find them.
someone is waiting to be found.

waiting, restless, in the whirlwind
hidden away in plain sight,
restaurants and coffee shops.
footsteps - i draw a nervous breath -
and let it out, sure again of this:
i won't be found.
no one is seeking me.

winter sky

i wonder if the sky's asleep
underneath her quilt of clouds
when autumn's leaves have left

fragile flakes frost our eyelashes
breathing white against the air
the snow melts on our lips

the slumbering sky does not wake
but sometimes stirs in her sleep
an accidental peek

please, sleeping sky, do not sleep long
rest yourself, and then awake
cold loses novelty

untitled poem #2

i'm not
the girl
so fresh-faced and small

who moves
with her
quiet grace

i'm not
the girl
exotic and tall

who causes
men's hearts
to race

i never
shall be -

i lack
a certain

i am graceless

but to
you i
could be more

i do not
ask that you

(that's an
task) -

just that you
love me
and take my hand

there's nothing
i could ask.




down -

thus states the law of gravity.
i've run afoul of this law;
my lot - pending calamity.

in all these golden days, i know
i've smiled too brightly, loved too strong.
the dread gendarmes are at my back
my destiny will not be long.

that fickle Lady, ever false,
flirtatious - turns her back on me.
with no recourse, i raise my hands
i stand condemned. i have no plea.

they capture me, shackles in hand,
fainting, my feeble frame is bound.
on bended knee, my strength has flown
i taste the dust of callous ground.

looking at an indifferent sky
i yearn for some auspicious sign
to give me heart, make bold my step,
to free me from this cruel design.

but the bleak sky cedes no such hope
my eyes fall to the rough gravel -
and there rest on a tiny bird
taking a rest from his travel.

his eyes meet mine, he cocks his head
as if trying to speak to me;
he seems to wonder "why do you
lay as if dead? why don't you flee?"

he flies away, and i, ashamed,
realize that this creature is right -
why blindly welcome such a fate
without first putting up a fight?






dreamer's ode

while in myself a battle rages,
i pour myself out in these pages.
for what is life without a dream?
and yet, without life, it would seem
we've no foundation for the dream.

one or the other, that's the cry
that we must ponder, by and by.

how could we dream if not for life?
inventing romance, leaving strife.
the dream is best that could be real.
the dream is best that makes you feel
as though you're dreaming passions real.

but in myself, a question raises
how can i not sing the dream's praises?

though life is good for some foundation,
i thirst for imagination,
for dreams fantastic, lovely, sweet -
without them, life is incomplete.
i lose myself in wonders sweet.

some eschew dreams; my heart of hearts
can't bear the gloom such life imparts.

shall i forget desire - no!
but if you're leaving me, then go.
for i know there's many'a worse fate
than that you've left me as of late.
i lovingly embrace my fate.

life can be black, but hopes redeem.
some dream to live - i'll live to dream.


untitled poem #1

i'll be posting all of my old poetry (mostly posted on facebook) here.

smoking candy cigarettes
wearing too much rouge
a dress that's twelve sizes too big
my mother's high heeled shoes

your forehead is wrinkle-free
we wear our wedding bands
lost in your father's business suit
i cannot see your hands

never had an earthly care
we drink make-believe tea
i said "i do" in mom's white dress
though it's too big for me.

we never pay our taxes
we never pay our bills
our plastic children never cry
our coffee never spills

never had an earthly care
we drink make-believe tea
we said "i do" and so we did
now please grow old with me.


Monday, June 2, 2008

first post

a blog! how exciting.

this will be home to my poetry and random thoughts.