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Tag Archives: love

Wouldn’t it be nice

To enter a realm of possibility
Where love could be more than parts from a catalog, still
A mystery, still a delicious bite of magic
And the universe expanded a little bit
Every time the bell was rung.

Funhouse

I pay my money

and wander through with you;

So many mirrors,

there are dozens of you;

I bump into you,

and you smile at me,

but something is

off – the curve of your mouth is wrong;

no, there’s more.

It’s the eyes.

You look through me,

and the smile doesn’t reach your eyes, even though you try your best to make it so.

I look for the exit, and run; but there is none

only a path that goes in a circle

that leads back to you, or the one in the mirror who pretends to be you.

No clowns with bloody teeth

hysterically laughing

could be any scarier.

Crawling out of it

How do you fall out of love?

If physics applies, you can’t fall out of love.

If you fall in love,

you would have to crawl up and out of it

to get out of it.

That sounds more like it.

And if you’re in it alone,

and you know it, finally,

you would have to

crawl up and out, through mud

and broken glass

and blood

and shit

and realize that the scars

and the stains

all belong to you

tattoos of choice

for always.

Just be glad once you reach daylight,

because a fall from that height kills.

Last rites

The words are said.
The heart is done.
The pain is buried.
The love is gone.

Severed

The greatest pleasure I have today

is wishing

that I could be Jessica Lange

in the last scene of “Frances“

who meets up with Sam Shepard

and doesn’t know him.

A lobotomy?

Relief, compared to the rest of it.

Meditation at summer’s end (2012)

By the sea,

I think of them

sitting in a circle with me on the beach; Mom, Dad,

Steve, Naomi,

Grandpa Toma, Uncle Paul

and Asia.

We’re under sunshine,

on the sand

next to the best waves.

Summer always comes and goes too soon.

I think of absent friends and family;

it doesn’t matter which season comes next,

for me, the next one always comes without them.

The calendar means nothing here;  Summer does its big finish when it wants,

in a ball of fire,

and a puff of smoke

and bows out

giving it over to Autumn.

For Asia in her twenty-third year

In a moment, you were here;

you weighed two pounds, and could fit in one hand; you grew, and suddenly

had arms that moved  just like your mother’s, and could throw a glance

just like your father -

This is what we don’t talk about, but we remember – you wanted to go to UC Davis

and be a veterinarian.

You loved to play basketball, and, like any good auntie would do,

I was teaching you my favorite sport – shopping, what else?

Once, we were out, and  you said you were looking for size zero;

I said we would need to go to the invisible clothing section.

That made you laugh, and your laugh made me happy.

We lost your mother when you were seven, in the same hospital where you were born, and

you did the thing that sad girls do; you got up, and went to school, and kept the big pain inside.

When your dad was still alive, the three of us would go to bookstores in the afternoon and read -

No way for you to escape the love of books; your parents and I were smitten with reading, and you would be, too.

Then, in a moment, your dad was gone, and we both walked around with more holes in our hearts.

And three years later, in a moment, you were gone, too.

In a hospital, in L.A., in a moment, with one wrong move, you were gone, too.

A slice of life in a moment – and we are left here,

and we sew the shreds together, but the seams can still be seen.

Karma’s a bitch with a checklist (2012)

You stole my poetry,

borrowed my car,

took my money,

called me fat and ugly,

choked me on your stairs one night until the police came,

and finally, just for your amusement,

ground down my soul into pulp,

fed it to the girl that you were cheating on me with,

and drove the last nail into my heart’s coffin.

 

If our time together was a country song, it would end with me running you over;

Instead, I wrote this poem and gave it away -

It’ll come back; karma always does.

Summering

Summer slips in

like the clever cool boy, late to the party,

making the rounds, making friends, taking just enough time

to kiss my skin with the sun that he holds, to light me up in the warm light of night

and leave me in smoky autumn ashes, taking

just enough time

to make me want more.

Clocked

Reblogged from Julie Wrote What?:

Click to visit the original post

Lonely even when you're in the room,

and at last I know why.

The next moment arrives on a clock that has been taken apart

and put back together

It ticks, tocks, and stops.

The air goes out of the room, and out of me;

And there you go again - always one second away from gone.

A little (very little) steampunk poem.
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