DEVOTION

Let's close our eyes
we don't need the artificial light
to show we've finally moved,
 unbruised
 through the crowded night

You know that beautiful stranger         

who once told us her name was Rest?
in case you've forgotten
she arrives in her sleepwear best

when we take a deep breath 

and count the heartbeats

 which keep us blessed

And that pen,
that often asks
to dance with the next page
wants us to know
it will no longer waltz
with the storm and all its rage

Paths taken seeking summer blue
often led us to many a nasty fall.
 Though we may not be sun or bird
we've tempted fate

Risen with the morning to see it all

The frost will keep us still for a time

then suddenly disappear

and our prayers will flow more freely

through the lighter air

The perennials,

 as promised

 will continue to greet another year...

To blossom is such a beautiful thing

and for that let's thank the devotion 

of the returning spring

Disappearance

The turbulent clouds form a frown,
 their sorrow will soon be coming down.
The tea kettle is screaming
I'm awake, because
My nights won't stop dreaming
Of the last room
You filled with your voice.

The echoes survive.
 Sometimes, it kills me to feel alive;
Haunting to know
 for a while, we all have a choice...

And where did yours go?
And why would it not wait ?
The bright hour of the morning
Left not a hint of a warning
That the time was much too late.

You didn't think you'd be missed,
You know, that makes me pissed!
 I've met the wandering streams
that ran into every smile you've kissed.

 Meteors of broken hearts fall
Through the space of each moment
That used to hold your hand.
I stand and wait to be struck
Where I hope the enlightenment will land.

The disappearance of your future
 Is the worst mystery I'll never understand.

long Distance

Will this winter finally numb the pain?

I've drowned my secrets in summer's seashells again.

I miss blue so much
 I've become it.
It's taken over me
like a tornado's latest possession,
and left me pale,
in a place I don't recognize.

Am I the lost or the loser?

I wonder if I've written this before

I don't know anymore,
I just know there was a time
 I lived with a smile.

Lately I live alone.

And I'm reaching out
Calling long distance for laughter.

I love you is bouncing back and forth
From earth to space.
I'm telling the midnight sky
How much I miss your early morning face.

I hope those satellites aren't disturbing your peace.
But I want you to hear me now...

I don't believe you did before.
There's so much I don't believe anymore.

I want to believe again.

I'm tired of holding up boulders.
I prefer to carry youth on my shoulders,
So maybe it will see the world,
And tell me how to fix it.
Or perhaps it will laugh,
And say nothing is broken...

Just a fun mess.

I'll remember you young
And be troubled less.

I'll try.

Answers

Sometimes just before I leave
the darkness for a dream,
I get that falling sensation,
Then jolt up,
  realize
I'm on a soft bed,
And not saying farewell
With anxious weekend toes
on a narrow ledge
With no room for dancing.

I spend a lot of hours alone,
 on the edge of a mountain,
Tossing what-ifs off a cliff --
Listening to their echoes as they hit rock bottom
Forgetting I'm above them all.

That kind of spending should probably have left me broke, broken,
 and dead by now;

I realize the reason it hasn't
Is because you've gifted me some of your time.

As you sit across from me today,
And I look away from "away"...
Away from the blizzard of questions
To reach the warm hope
Springing from your smiling eyes --
In that moment I feel like an answer...

Maybe not for one of mine, but maybe yours.
And maybe that's enough,
 because it feels like everything.
It feels like May's pink and white trees have showered petals over me.

It feels like beginning.
It feels like maybe...
And maybe is damn better
Than all the never I've always known.

It's possible we are all really answers
Just waiting to recognize our reflections
In the pools of questioning eyes.

Forget

Please forget the things that I've done, both good and bad.

Forget the kind gestures --all the little things like
offering my small coins at the register
So the cashier gives you green paper that will rest in your wallet like a dream you're going to someday spend,
 instead of a pocket-full of well wishes to be sunk.

Forget the compliments I freely floated towards you like frisbies...they were all just truths that had nothing to do with me, anyway. There were moments I'd stop being me just to be your mirror...you are that beautiful even in reverse, at your very worst (always remember that)

Oh and please forget each verse...they only fell like short raindrops and I feel you've always been more like a strong wind that will come back again and again to knock me in the right direction during inclement seasons.

Forget my name and the reasons you learned both the first and last...Forget the first day you asked (or maybe I just told) and the last day you spoke it.

Definitely forget the broken record or two when you'd call out over and over for me and I wasn't there to respond to you... by the way, I kept the pieces and I plan to restore them into an album of indestructible, resounding second chances...

Forget that I sometimes hugged you,
And absolutely forget that I sometimes pushed you away.

Forget that I cheered for you loudly in the stands.
Forget that I've been clapping for you longer than time had hands.

The words, the actions, all the fractions of my life that I've offered, too.
Forget them. Accidentally or purposely leave them in dark, empty places

So in the hours you're lonely, or busy doing things you wish you never had to do
You can smile and remember that you forgot how I've always loved you.

You Are Alive

The earth has a poem for you

Close your eyes,
 hold out your hands
and accept it...

Do you feel the wind?
The falling rain?
The winter snow
Numbing a black and blue sky?
The sun growing tomorrows?
The moon putting them to bed?

A hand
 you turn
To touch the palm--
Tracing the lifeline,
 your fingertip knows the way.
The echoes of those
We cannot keep
Though we hold tightly anyway.

Close your eyes
Do you feel the rhythm
Fall and rise?

You are alive.
You are alive.

Take that title
And run with it.
Make love to it.
Bring it to the lake.
Put it beside your pillow
So you can kiss it when you wake.

You are alive.

Take your poem
out on the town.

Show it off to a friend;
Get them to laugh
And spit their drink
 all over the page

Bring it to the park
And get its shoes dirty.
Push it on the swing.
Slide it down the slide.
Spin it dizzy on the merry-go-round.

Drive it home.
Open doors for it.

Keep it always,
For safe keeping--
Just don't keep it in the safe.

You don't have to memorize every line.
It's probably best not to...

But the title
You may want to keep
At the front of your mind.

A whisper in the library
a shout through the rustling trees

You are alive.

Truth

I want to throw the truth out of my mind, but I'm afraid a friend will reach out on a reflex and catch it. I want to say I'm not okay, without those words slipping out and hanging on for dear life to your smile,

until its weight is too much for your sweet smile to bear
 and the words fall--leaving a frown there.

I don't want to lie.
I want to tell you there are nights that I cry

And cry
And cry
And cry

I camp out in my room
With worry
And we forget to close the door
And a gang called "fear" comes galloping in,
 wearing masks that even closed eyes can see
The end of the world is just behind them

As they get closer and closer
The end of the world
Is still just behind them

I get lost searching for my breath
Surrounded by a forest of death

And that's not the kind of neighborhood
I want to walk a beautiful soul
 like you through

So I leave you a map
To a false place
With the design of
A happier face

Maybe one day
I'll meet you there

If I could sleep long enough
to dream a way out
of this nightmare

Maybe one day
 I'll meet you there

Something To Hold

It is when my hands
find themselves in an empty place
and my mind
 has somewhere it needs to go
that they seek the only vehicle they know

The ink
and my beating, bleeding heart
leap onto the page simultaneously
like two souls
hand in hand
taking their final leap off a bridge
into a river
that will accept their eternal devotion
and embrace their fate

Sometimes
at the end of a poem
I'm born again.
I close my fist
around my pen
like a newborn's hand
closes around momma's finger.

Our first instinct
is to hold love
when it meets us;
It's not part of our instinct
to let go--

I think that's why I always
search for something safe to hold
when my hands reach out
and feel only a breeze

I need something still
that only moves
when it moves with me
...like this pen.

To Balance The Light and Heavy

I still remember when love and loss first ran away from a country music song to come and sit with me in silence. I've attended funerals, but never buried love. Friendship wears a super hero's cape--when it's not soaring, it still holds the scent of a freshly painted sky... and I wake up on a familiar couch wrapped up like Christmas in a familiar blanket, with clouds imprinted on my cheek and the color of heaven faded on my fingertips. I kiss goodbye on the lips everyday and let it leave without me. Hello is a better kisser, but goodbye can still tempt me. Morning whispers one secret to me each visit-- I'm collecting them; Their value increases each day. I cut off the bread and eat the crusts. Not everything is a metaphor. Last night I saved a drowning victim in the bottom of a pool in my dream. I have a fear of swimming under water. I love flying. I wonder if a hot air balloon could stay up in the air holding the weight of what I feel. I hope emotions won't turn into kryptonite. I hope much more than I feel-- mostly to balance the light and heavy. I'm grateful for everything--even the pain, though it's not my favorite four letter word.

Just Say When

I could follow you
all the way
to the shadows of your fears

Spoil your heart with yes
When the stars tell you no

I'll stay with you--
Plant our feet
Just above the root of sorrow
And grow our wishes

I know where the breeze
Loves to sail

I know where the moonbeams
Sneak off to kiss

I'll hold you

until life returns
To shake off the past

However long it takes

If you wake
Dehydrated
 in the middle of the night

I could fill your glass

Just say when

I'll pour like April
Until you shine like May

Just Missed You

I move silently
Through the spaces you left
And all I have to hold
is a deep breath

The air sneaks through
Then pauses to ask
If I've seen you

I guess we both
Must have
just missed you...

A Day Full of Sand

I wonder if the earth
Feels my determination
When I etch your name in sand

I write to you there
Because time is an ocean
That sneaks toward the land
To reclaim its shells

I trace your name
Just beyond the salty reach
To keep you on the map
While my grief swells

I bury my compass
In a trampled castle
Beside an abandoned pail
And a plastic shovel

Feeling the burning circle's reflection.
Life now faces
 this grave direction.

I would rather see where you went
than know where I'm going.

I just want a glimpse
of you soaring through.

Instead, I wander
 with a day full of sand
And a mind full of you.

Where Do I Fit In?

Where do I fit in?
The question stuck
like a refrigerator magnet--
mocking me
every time I opened my mind.

The unused corners.
Kneeling in the dust,
prayers in the cobwebs.

finish line tape
piled in unmarked boxes

Inspiration glowed above me.
I felt someone love me,
but my hands would not reply;
what's the use
if I can't fly?

The clouds
have already claimed the sky.

Grieving in Reverse

They say you're in a pretty place,
Splashing up some sun-showers.
Lost smiles find your sweet face;

Give them a kiss hello,
and then hurry back.

They say I'll see you again;
They say a lot of things.
They all mean well,
but the one thing their lips won't tell
is what is most true:

Year after year
I'm switching to a calendar
Full of days you cannot cross.

New seconds won't know you;
And time
now feels like
A stranger to me.


I'm hesitant to tell you how I've been...

In the beginning,
shock slammed the awful
into a stone wall
but now, more than ever,
I hear the silence call.

Now, more than ever,
there are too many thin lines.

Boxing matches
dancing a heavy weight on my mind.

Words slipping through--
they can't be coming from me.

Tears running,
 while I stand here blue;
 they jog toward a memory of you.

There are no driving instructions
for grieving in reverse;

The days get lonelier.
Most nights feel like a reigning curse.

Fuck pretending!
Fuck strength!


I feel worse.

False Hope

I hear the birds sing
An April song
As they watch white mountains
on the gardens
Slowly become
 powdered sugar-coated pancakes

I open my eyes
And spring toward the window

And then I remember...

It's January.

And once again
I'm frozen.

Twilight

I don't want to be just another
Word clinging to the line
on a turning page;

I'd like to be the bigger picture
Hanging about around the hall,
Hoping to catch you strolling through.
Witnessing our time gracefully age.

So I paint my gypsy days
Beside your loyal nights;

Maybe you'll eventually
Brush up against me,
And our lives will
Rub off on each other.

Blending.
Beautifully.

All This Ocean

I cry
just a little every day
For all that has vanished
Out of my life
And into death

Though, it's important
That this be explained:

My tears are not complaints;
For on them sails a ship
Of gratitude;

A ship that would
Be nothing
but rust
And  shame
With a faded name
If it weren't for all
This ocean
 that waves
to your eclipse.

This grief is no anchor;
It's a northern glow--
A stamp on the upper
Right corner of the sky.

When I mail
My RSVP
To your memory's sweet invitation,
On the strength of the wind
This pain will fly.

Everything

It seems for as long as I’ve been—

Heavenly dreams have

Curled up beside me

And slowly rocked my mind
While I fell
Into the depths of a mystery

Even when darkness was my bed

And I didn’t know who else

I could whisper to…

Besides the sky

That could very well
Just be a stone on a mood ring

Besides the lightning and the rain
Before the thunder barges in

And the introverted moon

Mostly quiet in the conversation

Waiting for its turn
to shed some light on things

And the strongest trees--

holding the swing

As life

 Bends and kicks its legs:

Back and forth
Through the highs and lows

And I can't stop it
By dragging my playground shoes
Against the dirt

Everything will change

Everything will fall

and in a dark moment
will pause

Just before the wind
Lifts it like a child
Back to the sky...

At least once
If not every day

It's the contrast that sharpens the clarity

 I believe this is what

I've come here to learn
Over, and over again.

If I Can Only Stand

I want to walk with you
over soft places
where belief is conceived,

Through times when peace
closes its eyes
and dives for reincarnation...

to try again.
to do it better.

and if I can only stand,
but still feel the warmth
of a friendly hand--
I hope my arms are brave enough
to be the branches
that present the red leaves...

each fallen fault
(still beautiful)
Spell them across the Earth;
read them to the listening blue--

I want them to tell
all the ways I happily fell
while bending to comfort you.

Waving ,and twirling colors.

Only wanting
 to reach the untouched sky
with my grateful reply
to the message you carved into my life.

Three Five-Sentence Stories-GBE2#127

Submitted for GBE2 Week#127

He Guards The Echoes of His Memory

Forty years and a day ago, he had it all--laughter, love,youth, and a family of warmth joined safely together in his living room . Nobody ever sees a tornado coming from their blind side. He didn't watch the weather channel that morning before he rolled out of the driveway. Something the sky was brewing was on its way, and it appeared as dark as the end of time...as eerie as a ghostly fist repeatedly pounding the same dreadful chord.

 Forty years and a day later, the neighborhood children take turns daring each other to startle the long-bearded man with dusty eyes, who stares all day and night at the broken-down shack  that so wearily leans over the edge of a dead-end street; but he hears and sees no distractions...he'll never leave or lose sight of home again.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Runner

Every evening she takes long runs that lead to anywhere but there. If she runs fast enough, she could almost be the invincible wind...nothing could ever snatch the wind when it flies through the dark. A hope beats beneath her chest that this is the final run that will put the screaming daylight to rest. She knows if she turns to look back at the long stretch of road behind her, she'll see bruises everywhere, and that solid white line will become a scar that connects the past to now.

Suddenly, a pale little girl--with the woman's same scared sound, though much younger voice --
hurries and catches up to the runner just as she collapses near the bridge; kneeling beside her, she asks with good-bye eyes, to be rocked to sleep one last time.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Autumn's Paint

She climbed as far north as she could up October's tree, and waited patiently until December--but she still felt the same when the first snow finally came. She shook her hair in the brisk air hoping her thoughts would drop with fall. The tag on her clothes described what little girls were made of, and the fancy ladies they must grow to be. The mirror on the wall told her she should love a boy or not at all. Now Autumn has run out of paint, and it doesn't matter, because changing her true colors was never a possibility.