Saturday, May 13, 2023

half way thru 2 weeks

Lying on the floor,
I'm crying and need to sleep,
sail off into the sea, the TV
stand and screen cast a whale tail
shadow on the ceiling, I circle inner
monologues of desperation, anger,
sadness, depth and breadth of words
my brain thinks at night but mouth won't
say by day. Not for lack of want or will,
but ability. Instead, I take a pill,
I pray for sleep and know in a week,
I won't need to say a thing, my absence enough.

I focus on the ceiling shadows, the big splashing tail,
And I am again, as a child, at the zoo,
where I gazed up the larger than life,
fiberglass whale tail in the dolphin exhibit, wishing
they had a whale so big in the tank, today, grown,
I don't wish any of the animals to be there,
pacing back and forth and waiting for foods and activities, enriching so they say.
Like the orca grinding it's teeth down
Bloody, on its cement tank,
I pick my bleeding skin, I am captive, bored,
and lonely too.
And like the tiger,
I, too, pace back and forth,
a skull cage and thought loops.
I just want sleep.
Grateful, that my freedom comes soon
a blessing many don't get.

Saturday, May 6, 2023

why

And why should I not delight
in all moments of my own life? 
For life has no meaning without me,
so please me for today 

Friday, April 28, 2023

if I could have loved you more in life

If I could kiss the scar on your foot,
Rainbow-arched, I would cry with joy
and wash your face in my hands
with the rain of my tears, and peer
into your eyes one last time.
It's a rain you haven't felt in years,
just the daisies on your grave.
If I could kiss your feet, I'd feel complete.

Saturday, April 22, 2023

domestica

Spine pops
floor creaks
when 
sun dust
winks hello.
Groan, home, groan.


hide in the car

Branches and leaves sway
in the wind as a green plastic skirt
hula bobble dancer on a dashboard
just like her, the trees are always
smiling warm, eyes locked, pinched cheeks.
Fold into the sun, basked in hot car,
rolled up windows, open pores,
sink in the seat and take in the stale air,
a sweetest holy space, easy flair.
  

Tuesday, April 18, 2023

artificial southern belle

Bugs on the ceiling
or am I tripping over
my feet, my thoughts,
like how can you have such strong opinions,
when our bodies and lives so fragile?
You, just a little lady, pushing around her weight,
penny pounds, rule your kingdom,
even smaller and weaker than you.
Waver another anxious burst out loud
for us all to hear what we see, we knew,
You just reflect and repeat that which isn't yours,
It's the men you claim to love and their elusive 
power which fades faster in the sun
like fake flowers and the opposite of joy.


Saturday, April 15, 2023

summer dancers

The shining sun
it's sweet heat
punctuates
the side walk art
dogs walking
owners, stretched
necks, sniffing distance,
and thick bodies
reflecting off
our pizza and gelato
bellies.

Dark descends
in an audience 
we, hushed quiet,
feeling together
sticky hands,
sticky floor,
to ballet, feet
beating circles
around us.
Circle in
close.