This doesn’t seem to be working right,
This thing I call my body.
Bits and pieces
That are supposed to follow orders
Are acting as if
They’ve suddenly fallen illiterate.
My hands twitch guiltily.
My lungs shut their doors.
My heart illegally downloads the latest techno remix
And tries to choreograph a dance to keep with the beat.
But maybe it’s the general who should be taking the blame-
A mind that can’t seem to focus on the literal
The exact
The real
And instead fills it’s time watching movies by dead directors
With soundtracks in upside down languages
Either way
No one is performing up to par
Maybe I should hand them their two weeks notice.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Assignment: Terza Rima
I find myself standing in front of your white wall;
The one that you pay no attention to.
The same one that makes me feel so small,
So insignificant and empty and askew
In my own body, in my own mind-
Like I’m falling with nothing to cling to.
But it’s stare doesn’t seem to make you feel blind.
It doesn’t seem to make you nauseous
Or claustrophobic or trapped or confined.
So maybe I’m the one who should be cautious.
Maybe I’m the one who’s nuts and crazy-
Maybe it’s me with a guilty conscious.
The one that you pay no attention to.
The same one that makes me feel so small,
So insignificant and empty and askew
In my own body, in my own mind-
Like I’m falling with nothing to cling to.
But it’s stare doesn’t seem to make you feel blind.
It doesn’t seem to make you nauseous
Or claustrophobic or trapped or confined.
So maybe I’m the one who should be cautious.
Maybe I’m the one who’s nuts and crazy-
Maybe it’s me with a guilty conscious.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I'm So Tired These Days
You are exceptionally graceful. Your love and understanding guide your feet through an elegant dance that will someday lead you home. Your eyes are more open than even the sun's. To compare you to anything less than pure organic flexibility is to insult nature itself. You are one of the few who will make it until the end, and when you get there, you will shine unlike any of those before you.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
I called you up once, but I never heard your excitement
Your couch is permanently dented
From where we left our innocence.
Your table, permanently scarred
From where we changed our names.
Your door is permanently jammed
From when we became confused.
Your mirror, permanently shattered
From when we decided we hated ourselves.
And your hands are permanently unsteady
From your desperate attempt to hold on.
And your eyes, permanently glazed
From your new found lack of interest.
And though your house is busted,
And though your body is unresponsive,
I still lay myself on that couch,
And leave my bottles on that table,
And try to find myself between the pieces
Of that shattered looking glass.
And maybe you’ll come and sit with me
And maybe you won’t.
From where we left our innocence.
Your table, permanently scarred
From where we changed our names.
Your door is permanently jammed
From when we became confused.
Your mirror, permanently shattered
From when we decided we hated ourselves.
And your hands are permanently unsteady
From your desperate attempt to hold on.
And your eyes, permanently glazed
From your new found lack of interest.
And though your house is busted,
And though your body is unresponsive,
I still lay myself on that couch,
And leave my bottles on that table,
And try to find myself between the pieces
Of that shattered looking glass.
And maybe you’ll come and sit with me
And maybe you won’t.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
I wasn't joking when I said "I got this"
My hands were building a house when you came along.
You asked if you could lend your back for support
And I instantly resigned my bleeding hands and sticky tears.
With stars in our eyes,
Our feet found their place in the grass.
Silence warmed our bodies as we laid unsheltered
By my abandoned project.
When it came time,
We were careless in our laughter;
That's the best kind of smile.
We paid special attention to our hands, though
And the placement of our breath-
Bring careful not to collide
Or entangle ourselves.
We did run into each other's shadows on occasion
And we didn't let that stop us.
Before we knew it,
We forgot about the sound of silence
And could only remember the sound of our breath
Bumping into one another.
Our eyes were closed
So the stars settled for falling on my calloused knuckles
And your unwrinkled brow.
Their weight made us sink and we became tired-
Our mouths gaped for air to keep our minds focused
As we shivered while we laid unsheltered
In the grass by my abandoned project
You asked if you could lend your back for support
And I instantly resigned my bleeding hands and sticky tears.
With stars in our eyes,
Our feet found their place in the grass.
Silence warmed our bodies as we laid unsheltered
By my abandoned project.
When it came time,
We were careless in our laughter;
That's the best kind of smile.
We paid special attention to our hands, though
And the placement of our breath-
Bring careful not to collide
Or entangle ourselves.
We did run into each other's shadows on occasion
And we didn't let that stop us.
Before we knew it,
We forgot about the sound of silence
And could only remember the sound of our breath
Bumping into one another.
Our eyes were closed
So the stars settled for falling on my calloused knuckles
And your unwrinkled brow.
Their weight made us sink and we became tired-
Our mouths gaped for air to keep our minds focused
As we shivered while we laid unsheltered
In the grass by my abandoned project
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Twisted Parallelograms
A half smile to the left which reveals your true cool confidence
A flick of hair to show that you’re the boss
I don’t share your fixated blue eyes
I don’t flaunt your layered, complex figure lines
You stole the simple, tasteful, carefree outlines of lips
And left me with grey on white, unanswering, and transcendent focal points on my face
And sadly
These lips are what I am most proud of.
My calves and thighs do not scream “I hope you don’t find I’m teasing”, “It‘s not really you that I‘m craving” as yours do
But they whisper “if you ever wanted me, I would never let you break”.
Your cheeks are sunsets while mine are strawberries.
I know your hands seek flesh and cash while they have been molded by shopping bags and colorful pens.
Mine reach out for the door knob of a place I can call home and the cheek of the one who loves me back;
They have been shaped by sweat and dirt and catching myself when I fall.
Yet you always seem to have your seat in the throne
Except when we follow the coastlines of your body to New York and Oregon,
Stopping at your shoulders, not quite reaching your head:
The rounded, flowing lines of our collarbones project beneath the fabric of our polos.
Something simple yet dangerously resilient and graceful.
Separating themselves from the rest of the body, jutting forward, in an act of defiance to the saying “we are but the sum of all our parts”.
We’ve always said we’re opposites
And I don’t have the heart to tell you about our shared wonder that you always look over.
So go on being daring:
Take your dear lilac graces and face the world with the sun in your eyes
And I’ll stand here and wait with the door left open,
My broken, yet steady hands are ready to guide you once you lose your sight.
A flick of hair to show that you’re the boss
I don’t share your fixated blue eyes
I don’t flaunt your layered, complex figure lines
You stole the simple, tasteful, carefree outlines of lips
And left me with grey on white, unanswering, and transcendent focal points on my face
And sadly
These lips are what I am most proud of.
My calves and thighs do not scream “I hope you don’t find I’m teasing”, “It‘s not really you that I‘m craving” as yours do
But they whisper “if you ever wanted me, I would never let you break”.
Your cheeks are sunsets while mine are strawberries.
I know your hands seek flesh and cash while they have been molded by shopping bags and colorful pens.
Mine reach out for the door knob of a place I can call home and the cheek of the one who loves me back;
They have been shaped by sweat and dirt and catching myself when I fall.
Yet you always seem to have your seat in the throne
Except when we follow the coastlines of your body to New York and Oregon,
Stopping at your shoulders, not quite reaching your head:
The rounded, flowing lines of our collarbones project beneath the fabric of our polos.
Something simple yet dangerously resilient and graceful.
Separating themselves from the rest of the body, jutting forward, in an act of defiance to the saying “we are but the sum of all our parts”.
We’ve always said we’re opposites
And I don’t have the heart to tell you about our shared wonder that you always look over.
So go on being daring:
Take your dear lilac graces and face the world with the sun in your eyes
And I’ll stand here and wait with the door left open,
My broken, yet steady hands are ready to guide you once you lose your sight.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Younger Sister, I'm No Savior
I've smiled before
I have held a cup to my lips while holding a boy's hand
I've spent the night halfway outside and halfway in
And I've been a little here and a little not at all
But I've always come back
Resignation,
Even those times when I wasn't there,
Was never an option
So I'm not saying I'm better than you
Baby
I love that laugh but I hate when it's accompanied by a cough
If your hair ever straightened
Or your pearls ever scuffed
I'm not sure I would be able to remember how to hold hands.
I have held a cup to my lips while holding a boy's hand
I've spent the night halfway outside and halfway in
And I've been a little here and a little not at all
But I've always come back
Resignation,
Even those times when I wasn't there,
Was never an option
So I'm not saying I'm better than you
Baby
I love that laugh but I hate when it's accompanied by a cough
If your hair ever straightened
Or your pearls ever scuffed
I'm not sure I would be able to remember how to hold hands.
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