Posts tagged poetry writing

keep choosing

When you were younger you read that Robert Frost poem like everyone else in school and spent years dreaming of that point in your life where two paths finally diverge. All those years you spent trudging down that pin-straight road, fretful for the future, trying not to detour into the thick woods like the thickheaded people who think they know better.

You keep your eyes forward and back straight, plodding along as more and more people fall by the wayside or disappear into the forest, and you can feel it when you’re finally alone, when there’s nothing but you and … Read the rest

What a Life

It’s been twenty-five years since you’ve stood with your friends singing Hallelujah on a stage, feeling the vibration of a hundred voices lifting from the platform to the sky. It’s been twenty years since you listened to that same song on the way to your friend’s funeral. He’d shot himself to death at work. What a life. Now you can’t listen to that song without crying and you will always wonder how you couldn’t have seen it coming, and why no one ever usually sees it coming. There should be a prescription everyone gets at birth, an RX for love … Read the rest

don’t test me

it wasn’t the argument that ended things for you,
the one you held on to and wrote about, the one
you felt was so demeaning and mean — 
it was a simple question — and you wanted to give a 
simple, honest answer

that’s it
that’s all

you didn’t know what would happen
you didn’t even know what you wanted
to happen, but you lit the fuse that 
would eventually blast you
to smithereens

boom
poof

and all these years later we are both
asking what the hell were you thinking
to do things like that, to do everything
the … Read the rest

forget about it

Sunday morning. This was once my favorite time of week, the lazy Sunday morning that would unfold into whatever we desired. It was the magic morning, it was the morning I could almost count on rolling into your arms and then you rolling on top of me. But now? Forget about it. 

I thought you were my kindred spirit. I thought you were my moon and stars. I 
thought you meant it when you said you’d always love me and never leave me,
but that was so stupid of me to believe. I thought you were my skin twin, I … Read the rest

no one’s second best

I thought we were okay.

I was running on autopilot,
that I can admit,
but I know I was here,
present, conscious, 
I know I felt loved even if
I felt it a little bit less. 

I told myself “Sometimes,
it can’t always be 50/50,
sometimes one person needs
to offer the other more when 
their well is running dry.”

So I offered you more. 
I offered to give up my peace 
so that you could have yours
for a while, and apparently,
that wasn’t enough. 

You caught me last night,
deer-in-headlights I sat and
listened to all the things… Read the rest

patience for the pilgrimage

there are so many months between me and here and there
but I can’t wait to prepare. I can’t wait to go from wistful dreaming
to actual planning, to opening a duffle bag and beginning to pack.
Clothes and deodorant and soap, various and sundry things to fill 
the space in me (the bag) just like where I’m going will fill the space in me.

a whole entire winter and spring need to pass before this chance comes
and I have to remind myself it’s still a chance, anything can happen
in that amount of time. illness, death, job loss, … Read the rest

skin twin

there are so many things about us that one could make 
one say we mesh. we call each other our skin twins, 
the same light shade but sprinkled with freckles. if we put our
arms against each other, i can’t tell where he ends and i begin.

there’s a comfort here i’ve never had before, the feeling that
i can let go a little bit, not be so close, not be so clingy, not
be so afraid all the time that he will leave me.

(and trust me, i have an excuse for the fear i can’t release)

but for … Read the rest

city song

right now there’s ringing in my ears, and besides that the drip of
the cat’s water fountain and the hum, perhaps, of a water heater,
and i want none of those sounds, i want silence unless it’s something
i’ve been wanting to hear.

i want to travel to florida and see my friend Todd, i want to hear the
dull roar of a plane cruising at altitude, i want him to hear his eggs
crackling over easy, spitting and popping butter, before the whoooosh
of him pouring my scrambled ones into the pan. And the drip of his
coffee pot, … Read the rest