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.

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.

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.

5.27.2008

hide and seek

hide.
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.

seek.
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.

hide.
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

aphrodite
i never
shall be -

i lack
a certain
allure

i am graceless
bare
ordinary

but to
you i
could be more

i do not
ask that you
understand

(that's an
impossible
task) -

just that you
love me
and take my hand

there's nothing
more
i could ask.

10.4.2007