Saturday, August 30, 2008

I do not know what about you
it is that undoes what about me
I was convinced was so - I don't know what
I was thinking because

You are looking at me
and suddenly I can feel red
and my eyes are no longer - I don't know what
I was thinking because

Your eyes are so deep
and suddenly I can feel brown
as I am sinking down into - I don't know what
I was thinking because

things that used to make sense
suddenly won't do and all this
hard-earned negativity doesn't
seem to be true because -

I've forgotten the words.

I know that there were names
of the things and people that were here
because suddenly you're closer
and I can only feel you're near.

My skin prickles with the electricity
in the air before the storm
and like the hush of rain across water
I can feel my goosebumps form
All the magnets that hold me together
are now pointing to your North.

And I've forgotten what I thought
about the stuff that used to do
that other noun I used to verb
because you're holding my hand
and 'love' is the only appropriate word.

4 AM

Hard twist of fate -
first bed big enough for two
but only A body.
The word is cruel.

Lie supine I
stare at the reverse of you(s)
waiting for sleep
to cover me in numbness.
My comfort is a white sheet.

Then, inevitably, I
will dream a grey smattering
of secret fantasies and fancies,
cerebral cinematography

but good fiction always makes me cry.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Patrick Creevey, II

It's a game of dice for pour young Pat,
waves crash and make boots wet
ivory holds a great surprise
the dice, they say snake eyes.

So it's twelve months more for pour young Pat,
least a full year 'til he rows on back
she'll marry him when his ship comes in
and Creevey's baby be.

Well Jack, that man dressed all in black
made port while pour young Pat
was working of his debt, you see
Jack found dear Molly McGee.

Jack teased her with bags of gold
her father he asked, too bold
for her hand which was promised already
to pour young Patrick Creevey.

A year went by, Pat bought the dye
to color Molly's dress white
and when he came into port
there was a thing or two to sort

So, it's a duel on land for pour young Pat
if he wins this fight, he gets his lass
draw your sword and let it be,
dear young Patrick Creevey.

Friday, August 08, 2008

"Women Who Run with the Wolves' Excerpt

We are all filled with a longing for the wild. There are few culturally sanctioned antidotes for this yearning. We were taught to feel shame for such a desire. We grew our hair long and used it to hide our feelings. But the Shadow of Wild Woman still lurks behind us during our days and in our nights. No matter where we are, the shadow that trots behind us is definitely four-footed.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Phd. Foreward.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Separate Universes

Two forces collide
two opposing rays emerge
bounding like deer
across the caves and truncations
over the waves and exclamations


follow ME!

it's a mystery of physics
or magnetics
the way that the dances diverges
realign, meeting at the poles of opposition
laughing at the ride.

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Picturing Pronouns

She wants to make movies
hold her eye to a glass
and capture a world (that she directs)
in a lens, frame it in black.

I know her through pictures,
one in particular, but it
doesn't move the way she does
and I provided our soundtrack.

Our stories are similar
but have different interpretations.
I have cliche characters, plots, and theories-
she twists expectations.

We have parallel histories
(though I'm the only one who survived the dark ages)
the branches of our family trees entwine
leaving echoes in the bones under our eyes
coursing under our skin
cells calling to their counterparts
to the steady rhythm of hearts.

Mine beats a little faster,
Hers a little harder,
but our blood inevitably bleeds
the same color red.

She wants to make movies
show the world something new.
I write cliche stories, because
no one listens to what's been said.

Around us, the universe whispers
unsure of the consequences, or knowing the rest.

Inside me, the verses flounder
unable to determine the words which are best.

I rearrange letters and
with pronouns.

She is ME.
Together, WE.

Our 'us' is a pronoun I trust,
though the sentence is incomplete -
Because it's the beginning of something,
something I'd love to read
and what the world needs to see.