Random's Ramblings...
 

On the way to dinner, she asks *What are you thinking*
I reply, *I’m not, I’m writing.*
*Good*, she says, *I love to read what you write.*

*You’re so quiet tonight, is everything alright?* She asks, as a vampire explodes on the screen.
*Yes, I’m just thinking* I say, with a wince, as the snake lady melts into a puddle of green slime..

*What are you thinking?* she asks, her voice languid with left over desire.
*I’m not*, I reply with a muffled sigh. * I’m writing… and I need to get this out..It can’t just stay in my head…*

Guiltily, I cover her damp body, kiss her, and leave her there… As if I am creeping from one lovers bed to another’s.

The cost of living...
 

In everything she does, she asks herself,
“What will this cost me?”
The cost, she thinks, isn’t so very high.
But sometimes, just sometimes...
She under estimates the price,
And it leaves her poorer than she was..

Mood Swings...
 

“You know, I used to go weeks without talking to anyone outside of work, maybe I’ve been too much alone in my life to be in a relationship! I could be totaly happy with just myself and a room full of books!”

She turns to me with a sigh, *Didn’t we have this exact same conversation last month?*

“Well, ya, and the month before that, and the month before that.”

“You know, I thinkg meds would be a wonderful thing to keep you in love with me all four weeks of the month..” she said with another sigh..

“Well, no one ever said menopause was going to be easy.”

She longs for me, as I long for solitude.
She needs me, like I need the quiet dawn.
She looks at me as if I am the sun and the moon, I feel like the distant stars.

Cold and untouchable...

Writers Trip
 

my words do not flow smoothly from my pen
but stumble and trip..
like a toddler learning to walk..

Heart Burn...
 

A taste of ash fills my mouth,
For a fiery heart
has left it's bitter remains..

Full Face
 

Ash and sack cloth?

No, not for me...

Paint the face, tie the bow..

The higher the heel... the deeper the pain..

Armor and paint.. Protect the fragile psyche..

The more I hurt, the better I look...

untitled
 

You do know how to stroke me, don’t you?

Be it passion or anger..

You set me a light…

I’m weary of being scorched in my own fire..

Let me cultivate peace…. Not burn in the flame

Tease...
 

I seek to sooth my beast..
To keep it well fed and content…
To turn aside from the easy anger
To face the pain…

Do you love my beast?
I think you must..
For you try to bring it quite often..

bad poetry
 

The sun will rise tomorrow, no matter what we say
The moon will go on shining, come what ever may
The tides will come in
Just as surly as they will go out
I will go on loving you, regardless of what you spout..

Small Wants...
 

Change in the ashtray
Kept there for small wants

Man on the corner, worn cardboard sign.

Does it matter if it is truth or a lie.

It is the asking
It is the giving
It is the unanswered need.

Stare ahead/ light red
Or
Roll down window /hold out hand.

Small wants or Large Life.

Witch Bottles...
 

The wild wind sounds through the sea grass
Ringing the Witch Bottles hung in twisted trees.

On the porch it plays with the wind-chimes
Teases the bits of glass hung to catch life.
It caresses the seashells
Giving them a voice.

It moves through a half open window
Giving life to the white lace

It becomes more than it was, going this way and that.
Part of it darts off
Up the stairs
Stopping to play with a missed bunny on the way.

Pushing open my half shut door
And blowing over my sleeping frame
Stirring the hair laid on my pillow
And then it is away..

I wake and smile..
Hearing the chimes and the voices of the sea..

My Alarm Clock
With out it where would I be ?
__________________

Just to the left...
 

There is a hole in me
where you used to be..
It lives between my breasts.
Just to the left.


I try to fill it with different things..

Work
Children
Friends
Chat
Food
Drink
Dance
Party

It covers over, but doesn’t heal
It’s fine for days..
And I think…
Maybe this time
It’s gone for good

But then
It’s there again
I can feel it

Living between my breasts
Just to the left…

Midnight Musings..
 

My rough, tough butch
Smells like ginger bread
At the nap of her neck.

She scowls, and scoffs
And says
“Nu-Uh”

But in the dark of the night
When I nuzzle in tight..

There is the most delightful scent
Just under the traces of her cologne..

It speaks of rich darkness, and heavy cream..
It speaks of hidden spices and sugars..

It speaks to me on a primal level..

And what it says is..

Home…

Wish Craft...
 

Once upon a time I wrote your name and mine in crimson letters
And offered the ashes to the four winds
Letting rose colored smoke carry my words to your heart..

Once upon a time, I bound you to me with colored string ..
Whispering your name and mine as I twined us together
In a circle, unbroken..

Once upon a time, I sighed your name in the velvet of the night..
Giving my very breath to the sky..
Watching a shooting star
Call you to me..

I say to you..

Let your words find a home in my heart
Bind me to you with your unbroken love
Call me to you with your shadowy breath..


Come with me and believe

In

Magik

This Room
 

Could I be a little girl?
In your arms
In this room
Just for tonight?

If I asked
Would you
Shut the door
Draw the blinds
Close out the real world
And create a new one with me…

Could you look at me in my cotton nighty
And understand that it was not the time for satin and lace.

Could you look at my naked face and my unpinned hair
And see what I was asking.
See what I was saying without speaking a word?

Would you give me your hard hands
Your fierce heart
Give me your strength so I might be weak?

Just for tonight

And then understand in the morning

When I pinned up my hair and painted my mouth

That it is only in this room

That I am

A little girl….

Balancing Act..
 

Stay
Perfectly still
Don't lean

Left
or
Right

You cause me pain..
Can't you see?

You make me numb
Don't you know?

With your wishy washy ways..

If you would just stay
as you are
Right now..

I will listen to you..
Do as you want
Be your slave.. (as if I am not already)

Because..

If you can't stay
then
I fear
It is the end of us..
and the beginning
of the surgeons job..
and the tap, tap, tapping of silver pins..

So..
Please..
Beloved Coccyx..
Stay Put..

High School
 

A Cheerleader Dear One?

Smiling at all the Boys while looking at all the Girls?

I would have been the shy one

The quiet one working in the library
Taking out your card
Memorizing all the details
Swooning in your wake.

If I had been brave
I might have asked
To carry
Your pom poms...

Line
 

Hair as black as ebony
Skin as oiled silk...

He moves like the panther
closing on the kill...

The lines, they come so smoothly
so earnest is the plea...

You feel that a denial...
will bring him to him knees..,

The blow does not phase him
does not bother him at all

For all it's sincerity

It Was Just a line After all....

I tried to replace you, don't cha know?

She was a poet...
she looked like you,
she sounded like you,
Her arms almost felt like you..
she even almost smelled like you..

But she wasn't you..
a kinder, paler version of you..
She had no belives
She had no wild dreams
She didn't have a drop of your passion..

So, I walked away and didn't look back..
I hurt that gentle soul
Because she wasn't you..

I tried to be you, don't cha know..

I found someone
who wanted hard hands and teeth at her neck..
who wanted someone to keep her safe...
to tell her right from wrong...

But I wasn't you...

I didn't have your control,
I didn't have your strenght
I didn't have your convictions...

So, I told her no more..
and I left her shut down and closed off..
Just like me..

I'm done trying to replace you,
because it can't be done

I'm done trying to be you..
because that's not who I am..

I'm done crying because I lost you...
Because it does no good..

Instead

I will simply smile and remember
and know you own my heart..

Until you don't...

2am Rising...
 

Just about every night
I lay down at a time when my mind is throwing a temper tantrum..
*NO NO NO NO* it says..
I don't wanna go to bed..
Full blown 3 yr old rage..
Arching back, kicking heels..

I tell it to behave,
That we are going to be 40 this year and we must be responsible, do the right thing..

My mind says "NO"
loud and beligerent..
It wants to go dancing..
It wants to get into the car and go driving..
It wants to stay up and read..
It wants to talk on the phone..
It wants..
It wants..

It wants to have a later bed time that a 3 yr old..

Just about every night I have to coax my mind to sleep..

Reminding it that we are to old be to telling lies to ourself..
That we will NOT get up if we stay up just a lil longer..
That just a few more mins WILL hurt..

That having something you want comes with a price..

Wanting always has a price...

This is one that made it past gravity tonight...

3pm Sunday afternoon I fell in love with your little finger

You were standing in the kitchen talking to me..

I didn't hear a word

I was falling in love with your little finger

Water for Thought
 

Summer never began until I made that trip down a tired, dusty country dirt road.

The road started in front of my grandparents’ house, it meandered its way through two fields of green,
past the irrigation ditches with their cool chemical smelling water, past Grandfather Oak,
the ancient tree whose wide trunk invited all to pour out their heartache and sorrow; to find their respite beneath its shadowy leafs.
I always took him up on his offer, sitting and leaning my sunburnt back against his raspy shell.
Sitting a spell and telling him of all I had seen and done since the last time I sat in his shade.
It only seemed proper to give him stories of the world he couldn’t visit, him being of the non-mobile type.
After my visit, the road, with its mud ruts didn’t seem as hot, or as long.
It seemed in a blink of an eye the fields on the right would end and the sign would appear.
A rusted sign attached to a cattle gate saying NO TRESPASSING.
That sign always gave me pause for a second, my natural tendency to follow the law, warring with on over whelming desire to complete my summer ritual.
A quick look around for farm trucks and then up under the gate.
The road took on a different texture, a different mood now; it felt lonely, and abandoned.
The road faded in and out, Grass and rock taking back sections of the road.
The rock took over the grass and road, broken and striated the rock turned into boulders.
My walk became a climb. I remember climbing, thinking this is too much, I’ve gone too far, I need to turn back, and then I would be there.
Just like that, like a mirage, it would spread out like a shock, Deep Turquoise water, shear block cut walls, the ground around it like some alien land, lifeless and dry.
I would sit on the edge of the quarry, sitting so still, so quiet while I told the water everything that had happened over the past year.
I told it of my fears, my joys, and the things I had seen and learned. It was as if I was clearing my head and heart of the past year.
Closing out the school year and making room for the new one to come.
I would sit by that deep still water and become lighter and freer with every second of that imaginary conversation.

It seemed to me that the trip back to my Grandparents house took only a blink of an eye…
I was eager for my family, my cousins, for the noise and the music of them.
Summer had officially begun.