Monday, May 25, 2009

The Danger of Silence - poem

I can’t stand it

I need the music, my thrumming heart
melding with the rhythms drumming out the beat
of this dizzying anthem of the night
the ode to the evenings when the sun sets
in your eyes and the dark pool lingers, inviting me in for a

if I swim for a hefty measure of intertwined moments,
in the enticement of your irises
your blood will usurp my audio space
flowing from veins to my vision, my vibrating sight
enveloping me in your bittersweet, velvety melody

I can’t stand it

your silence is maddening
it transforms the pool into Rorschach’s questions,
no longer the kaleidoscope of dangerous, oratory beauty
but blotches of fluorescent buzzing
and buzzing
inside my throbbing head

I can’t stand it

or stand at all when my balance is ravaged
by uneven tunes and eras of nothingness
where memories of your symphonies accompanied by
masterpieces of impressionist melodies
haunt the canvases of this room
where I lie, shiver, forcing words from my mouthpiece
and they land, on my visual field
as the inkblots of a lunatic

what do you see
in the waters swirling here
in the eyes of a damaged instrument?

I can’t stand it
so I don’t

without you dancing and singing your beauty into
my line of sight
without you painting my world with the kind of music that permits time to

Wednesday, May 06, 2009


I remember their song
cicadas humming for hours
crescendo of nature then
as Night and Dawn collide
the symphony of spectacles
explodes before my eyes
stinging my mind leaving a mark and
the pain still burns
fire simmering beneath the surface
I can taste it yet
my world lacks flavour
vibrancy fading
my energy wilts into
the cemetery of dearly
departed dreams and
beliefs I remember dusk as
it ravaged the peace
saturating my skin
I used to bask in it
the Ikon of
my Nights painted there by angels from
ancient moments
I hear whispers
knowing it’s of winged guardians
sometimes wondering if it’s something else…
a sinister force, perhaps
then I realize
my worst enemy is
the girl staring back at me
I see myself reaching out
this timeI should take it-
grasp the hand that has
dealt mistakes
yet still some good
feel the song this time
hear no evil in the cicadas humming
just be still and
be still and

Bottom Line--poem

When it comes down to it
it doesn’t really matter anymore.
I can’t find you on
call displays, or hiding in
my pocket, of the
sweaters that kept me warm or
the shirts
you left behind.
I can’t feel your touch
on my shoulders at
the end of
every day.
Do you know-are you aware that
every blink of an eye I
hope will spring you to life?
Do you know that
when it rains, I miss that warmth-
when your arms were my blanket?
When all is said and done,
it doesn’t really matter.
Morning comes again,
night swallows the sun whole.
Dreams still haunt,
life burning eternal,
with you,
no more.

Turn Around -- poem

It’s no one’s fault, but
of course it’s so
God damned easy to
point my finger
(at aforementioned Deities or)
at whoever is poor enough, to
be close to me.

Try not to punish, condemn Me for
asking you this favour.
You’ve always loved me, I know it, I feel it-and,
I can believe you know
I adore you.

When did that point sweep into
my life?
That pinnacle, marking
the Truest Loss, as if
life turned me ‘round,
my back to the Sun.

I remain burning, blind, to Love and
all Nostalgia, belonging to you-
us, Long Ago-
instead I linger,
facing frigid Night.

When did it change? so that
instead of fear, I bask in
the darkness, welcoming its mysteries?

When will I return to face
the golden possibility of
lightness in Love-from
a new Spring?

Would you offer some sign?
Slip into this mortal plane,
defying laws and bounds, to
show me you’re near?

Although I’m not afraid of
darkness and the moon’s frosted rays,
I do fear the emptiness; the
winter of endless, mortal Time
without you,
spinning me ‘round so I bask in
the Sunshine so I sleep soundly in
my night and can freely
give my heart to
a shining, deserving


My Rose -- poem

Petals are calling
tracing fingertips over
the surface at
the same time
touching clouds and
velvet nights in
it heaves then
wanting attention or
to dive onto its
going gently
caressing the air
knowing not to disturb
what supple particles
hold this together
giving warmth and
unbelievable comfort
what a dwelling to behold
to dream in
cushioning my hopes and
kindling my burn
so softly
gravity changes
horizontal pulling until
I fall being held,
kept and
lose myself in
silky arms

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Altered Replay--poem

After a while it fades to grey-
like raining ash after
the explosion-
How cliché does that sound,
but who really gives a Damn?

If I told you I loved you,
I’d be lying.
Oh, I’m sorry:
did that hurt?
(But the truest lie is that
I never cared.)

Even if I’ve fooled Myself by saying
you’ll call tomorrow or that
you’ll smile
every time you see my face.
You still don’t have the right to
smother my Love all over the pavement
with each instance that
you had to be drunk
to hand me any
semblance of affection.

Spinelessness has run its course
and tired its useSo toughen up, or walk out-
(like you do so well
every day, every time, in every way).

You’re still the same.

You’ve become the Ghost, haunting
my what if’s,
trickling through my every pleasure and

Teach me how to transform to
for you will never
my fantasies of you and I
into delicious reality.

Teach me how to disappear like
you’ve mastered-
time and day and month, year-
enough of the rambling.

Teach me how to
sever all emotion or
replay your forte and
just leave.


You don’t give a damn-
not sure if I did either, but
what’s certain is this:
I wanted what I remembered of
how you felt.

We barely knew the simple but
critical things.
I can recall how you kiss but
your favourite song, colour, story-
remains a blur.

I’ve been walking through life,
with my back to the wall,
my head turned to watch the past and
but now I’m facing
tomorrow head-on, curious
to hear what steps fall behind me.

The burning question, kindling
my consciousness, is whether I’ll encounter
a following or if
my sights will pull me forward,
donning me Pursuer.

Fatigue of the mind, body, and
summons temporary apathy
within me.
All I have in this moment of
acceptance is the drive to
move on with
the clichés of yesterday,
mistakes from the Night, and
the ability to face
the burning desert of
a New Day.

mess -- poem

take some
give some
return, rebound
craving emotion
then loathing the swoon
on bended kneep
stand next
arms to the sky
demand an answer
feeling the weight
as Atlas
holding the sphere
bend again
forever moving
feeling the iron
yearning for numbness
after that rush
after the feeling
die a little
try to live
still quivering
chaotic logic
peaceful insanity
brewing the mind
rushing forward
fade once more
what am i talking about
i wasn't even aware
of my heart
beating still

Induced Familiarity--poem

Have we met before?

I can see the outline of
your strong frame
from the corner of
my eager eye.
I turn to face you,
like a tango spin;
locking my gaze onto

I can feel your arms
exploring my territory,
finding their place of Rest
‘round my shoulders.
I burrow my own
within the warmth
of your hoodie,
so they find your waist,
and your chest invites my cheek to
stay a while.

I can hear your Heart beating
like the Rhythm of
a sultry tune.
In my mind I review trying
to separate Memories from dreams of

Have we met before?

I can barely stand,
reeling from sweet
Your enticing eyes pierce me and
keep me transfixed,
while I run my fingers through
your dark tresses.

I can feel the pulse approach
a new Flavour.
Unsure of whose heart is pounding out this
intensely unpredictable
rock ‘n roll Spell.

I can tell you’re evaluating-
what dare I do next in this
You know me well, and predict
my answer before I even

The slightest incline in the corner of
your Lips sparks
the blaze.
I can hardly control
my breath and reason.

Your lips hold sway over
each reflex.
As the kiss deepens,
I can no longer tell if I’m standing or winding
in seas of warmth or sheets of silk.

Does it matter, really?

You whisper the reply into my ear,
forcing my blood to
every Extremity.

I knew it then, but now
I can not remember.

Have we met before?

Say yes so
the bridge will fall,
I’ll embrace reality and meld it
with bliss-

Haven’t we met?
Say yes so I have
to dream
no more.

Possession --poem

You’ve got me wanting you-
with each turn of phrase,
each sweet thing you say
you’ve got me believing that
you actually care.

Yet the second you scooped
all the substance of
your promises
(and lies)
from my core of faith
in Something Better,
you had me searching
in a chamber of Emptiness
and regrets.

It’s mind-numbing, Love
that Inaction screams at levels that
deafen my heartbeat to a
hollow tone.

You don’t have to act on much other than
your indifference and
you have me Bound-
scraping the walls of
your forsaken Kingdom-
and you have me
wanting you-
morphed into a Memory-
Even more.

Too Bad -- poem

Don’t waste my energy-
even when you don’t mean to,
you wear me out.

Like this blanket draped
half on
half off my tired bed-

I’m splitting apart in
(more than)

Don’t worry, dear:
I’ve got the glue to adhere
and return to
the Balance that was.

I’m no fool and still
you’ve made me feel like
Apathy’s designer,
for everything from
Love to Lust
and back to Common Sense.

I’m not, but it doesn’t matter.

I won’t bitch
and complain,
I’ll just change like
I do so well.

No more rebellion,
I’m just going to be the Woman
I’m meant to be-
and with every step
I dish out,
the She you see
breathes the truth of this
Female’s Business.

I’m done with bull and shackles-
your repression sucks
so I’m laughing it off.

Here I am-
whether you take it
or not
I’m walking on,
smiling all the while.