Tag: poetry

it happened the first time i saw you
in the rain
beneath the terror
of thunder
and the unknown.
your smile
as bright and broad
as warm and welcoming
as a secret sunrise.

December 22, 2017

bran meal donuts
like inflatable rafts
taste better with
frosting

2015

i cannot help you
she says
and holds up a hand like a wall.
a wall between me and you.
between what was and what will be.
between the past and the future.
between the pain and what I must do.
i stand for a moment, suspended.
my bags clutched in my hands,
what little i could take with me
of what had been,
what could never be again.
severed. split. undone.
i tremble. unable to breathe.
i cannot help you she says.
i turn away. frantic.
between one flight and another.
i run.

2015

if you're going to hit me
do so at speed
and without
hesitation.

don't brake
don't swerve
don't look back

proceed without caution
along the path of the machine
into me
through me
to your destination

as if I was not
and had never been
here.

2015

i am a million miles wide

i am ten million miles deep

i flow, from east to west

i move through multiple dimensions at once

i can't stop
i never stop

i move because there's nothing else to do

headlong

with no one to catch me if i fall

when i fall

i hope i fall hard

enough

not to walk
away

2015

mind
like a sparrow
trapped
in a glass jar
wings
brushing
false heaven

2018

art is an act of love
art is a patient mother
art is a fiction
of love
in a beautiful world
of mothers that love
in a beautiful world

March 29, 2018

i like the way
my hands look
even
the spots
the redness
the wrinkles
(the new wrinkles).

it's me.

bone
pushing
white and pink
blue veins
scars from
nothing memorable.

these hands can sign
a paycheck, lift
a box, stroke
a cat.

they can smooth
a coverlet, on
a new bed, in
a new room.

they can say
'yes.'
they can say
'i am.'
they can say
'i am free.'

June 16, 2018

Late frost
has withered
the flowers
and no fruit
shall set.
Not surprised,
but disappointed
yet.

July 3, 2018