it’s still here
this place i knew
where last i came
under these same sparkling
rays of light
as a teenager with friends
where we bought coffee
and chocolate
shipped in from Vermont
where we sat in
these same heart-shaped
wire-backed
uncomfortable wooden chairs
and laughed and laughed
and walked around
looking at expensive
hot cocoas
and liberal media magazines,
the same ones
that line the shelves this evening,
beer and dinner in our stomachs,
i fall in love all over again.
friendship
Culinary Orgasm
Recipe for a happy Monday:
one witty email,
four friends,
twenty-two minutes,
two-day work week,
one cranberry-fudge pie
with graham cracker crust and
homemade cinnamon whipped cream:
one culinary orgasm.
Au Revoir
you may as well be a ghost
because you’ve haunted me more than most.
why do i have to see you here
when i’m surrounded by holiday cheer?
you’re embarrassed, though you won’t admit it
it is not my sin that you committed.
if you disliked the person you came to know
then why did you put on such a show?
i don’t edit, though it’s caused me pain
at least i’m real; you’re filled with shame.
perhaps those who love me are few and far
but at least i know how to say au revoir.
Offstage
I’m still here
though only a shadow
of who you think you know.
i’ve shined my light
a bit too bright
so i think i’ll step offstage.
it’s comfortable here
behind these velvet curtains
i’m not questioned, not uncertain.
but i see you trying to peek,
wondering how i learned to be meek.
what i learned instead? how to be me.
Layers
I am in a hollow now
wishing it weren’t so damp
the wind beating at my branches
as i reach for warmth
instead i double up my layers
like a bear fattening for winter
making my insular depth
as welcoming as the wind will allow.
there’s time to think, to look at
the small ones surrounding me
more closely, to hear the silence that
plays behind the gales’ haunting chords.
perhaps i have chosen this place,
perhaps it has chosen me. but i
will wait until i hear more than silence.
i will wait until i hear peace in my heart.
Ode to Facebook
i should be you for Halloween
because you make me question myself
hiding them
hiding me
being me
removing them
them removing me
enough already.
let me be who i am
and if they can’t handle it
if I can’t handle it
then we’ll call it a truce
and fuck this Facebook shit.
OK?
Ache
i reached out my hand
(could have touched your shoulder)
but you shimmied away
(the invitation lost in your hollow eyes)
the words sat on the tip of my tongue
waiting for your beckoning call
but you didn’t reach
and i was afraid to bring them forth
your song played twice in my ears
as i pedaled home. you will never know
how much it makes me cry, how you
are in my aching heart when i hear it.
but we are separate now. and you
will never quite forgive my choice
just as i could never quite forgive
those aching moments that i sat there.
i reached out my hand
(i could have touched your shoulder)
and i am waiting here now,
the words caught (captive) in my throat.
someday you will define this for them
(this time i won’t hear your explanation).
but i will wish i could be there, captive,
so that your fingers could touch mine,
so that your ache is my ache, our ache.
Cheer
lights blindingly bright
beer bottles crashing in bins
standing in waves of delight
jubilant cheers, moans of chagrin
crack of the bat against leather
sand-dusted bottoms of pants
hands together, apart, together
disco’s crowd-pleasing chants
surrounded by America’s pastime
you beep me with your newsflash
and i cheer, my heart sublime
for the best home run of this bash.
Renewal
how it haunts her
aching and bright
a flash in the night
how it haunts her
taunting and cruel
calling her fool
how it teases
sneaky and mean
defiling the clean
how it teases
quick and abrupt
her heart now corrupt
how it breaks her
shatters and bits
degrading her wits
how it breaks her
blades and fires
lost with desires
how it heals her
sorrows and loss
rock-bottom moss
how it heals her
beginnings and ends
renewal ascends.
Oddities
an odd couple
him outspoken
earrings and hair
thick with want of a brush
she perfectly manicured
tight as a spindle
of silken thread
their words bounce off
one another, harsh, playful
forced, relaxed
his mouth open and loud,
her lips pinched and defiant
with them we will take a new step,
form a new friendship,
walk our children hand in hand with theirs,
hoping the oddities
that make us (them)
who we are meant to be
will be the same oddities
that will bring, keep us together.