Thursday, September 6, 2012
Waiting Ashore
Scratchy, scrabbling, rickety
Brine - sloshing around since
The end of time. I watch it
And wait - for your fingers in
My hair and your breath on my
Ear lobe and your arm round
My waist. A tear rolls along
My cheek and sinks into the
Wet sand. And I wonder if the
Ocean is made of tears, or if
Our tears come from the ocean.
The breeze races past, blowing
My hopes in the wrong direction.
The sky, the sea and the sand
Become the same inky hue.
I wait for epiphany. I wait for relief.
I wait for you.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Forgetting You
The fury of last night’s storm
left sodden confetti on the
sidewalk, and the birds
timidly peeping in the morning
calm. I cleaned out my
closet – the part that was
yours – by candlelight, and
I scattered your memory
like ashes in the wind.
I thought about the night
we danced in the rain and
giggled like children out past
curfew. And I thought
about the arguments about
dishes in the sink. I flipped
through the memories like
pages in a magazine, only
stopping at the most colorful
images.
I remember the smell of
your neck and the heat of
your hands, but your face
has been swept away like
sand from the boardwalk.
As the sun climbs higher,
the birds grow brave and
begin to sing again.
left sodden confetti on the
sidewalk, and the birds
timidly peeping in the morning
calm. I cleaned out my
closet – the part that was
yours – by candlelight, and
I scattered your memory
like ashes in the wind.
I thought about the night
we danced in the rain and
giggled like children out past
curfew. And I thought
about the arguments about
dishes in the sink. I flipped
through the memories like
pages in a magazine, only
stopping at the most colorful
images.
I remember the smell of
your neck and the heat of
your hands, but your face
has been swept away like
sand from the boardwalk.
As the sun climbs higher,
the birds grow brave and
begin to sing again.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
One
Your voice rang like golden chimes
when you sang your love to a
throng of strangers. But
they didn't see how your heart
split and ripped inside your chest.
They mistook your tears for
sweat, your misery for art.
From the shadows of the wing,
I watched you die in minute
ways. Behind your mask of fame,
I saw your grimace and the
ashen hue of your face. Beneath
the shield of well-toned muscle,
I saw the blackened heart.
As you wept for her, I grieved
my own loss, knowing that she
was the one, and I am merely
one. I left before you ended
the song, hating my one-ness,
while loving my one.
when you sang your love to a
throng of strangers. But
they didn't see how your heart
split and ripped inside your chest.
They mistook your tears for
sweat, your misery for art.
From the shadows of the wing,
I watched you die in minute
ways. Behind your mask of fame,
I saw your grimace and the
ashen hue of your face. Beneath
the shield of well-toned muscle,
I saw the blackened heart.
As you wept for her, I grieved
my own loss, knowing that she
was the one, and I am merely
one. I left before you ended
the song, hating my one-ness,
while loving my one.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Chasing Fireflies
By the light of the moon
and the chime of the stars,
the cricket calls out to
you in my absence.
I left my voice in the
sunlight, like a child
abandons a plaything
in favor of chasing
fireflies.
With the patience of time,
I dance in the comfort
of darkness to the
cicadas' song while I
wait for you to join me.
The anticipation tastes
like honeysuckle syrup
and brings a smile to
my eyes.
When you arrive and we
dance together, our
eyes will tell the stories
our voices once knew.
And our hearts will
take flight as we leave
past worry in favor
of chasing fireflies.
and the chime of the stars,
the cricket calls out to
you in my absence.
I left my voice in the
sunlight, like a child
abandons a plaything
in favor of chasing
fireflies.
With the patience of time,
I dance in the comfort
of darkness to the
cicadas' song while I
wait for you to join me.
The anticipation tastes
like honeysuckle syrup
and brings a smile to
my eyes.
When you arrive and we
dance together, our
eyes will tell the stories
our voices once knew.
And our hearts will
take flight as we leave
past worry in favor
of chasing fireflies.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
One Way
There is only
One way to win
A stubborn heart
Like mine, a
Wilderness untamed.
There are no paths
Or smooth paved
Roads. Just the
Tangled brush
And uneven ground.
Surrounding the
Prize is a thicket
Of thorns. No
Machete can
Clear it; no fire
Will destroy it.
There is only
One way to win
A stubborn heart
Like mine.
Humility, confidence
And grace.
One way to win
A stubborn heart
Like mine, a
Wilderness untamed.
There are no paths
Or smooth paved
Roads. Just the
Tangled brush
And uneven ground.
Surrounding the
Prize is a thicket
Of thorns. No
Machete can
Clear it; no fire
Will destroy it.
There is only
One way to win
A stubborn heart
Like mine.
Humility, confidence
And grace.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Reason I Share...
One of the best things I've heard in a long time was the sound of a friend's joy over the phone tonight. I merely sent him a link to a website I thought he might be interested in, and he was able to turn that into a job! He is an incredibly talented musician and an amazing person with the most beautiful spirit I've encountered in a very long time. He applied to claim a spot among the performers at a local arts festival, and was selected.
The joy in his voice when he called to thank me for sending him was contagious! He thanked me over and over again for helping him, but I still don't feel like I did much. Having been on the receiving end of those small but kind acts in the past, however, I know exactly how much it means to him. And that's why I did it.
That's why I continue to share any possible opportunity I spot with my talented friends and colleagues...for the joy. Not my joy, but theirs. It always comes back around to bring me joy, too. Especially when they allow me to share in theirs. Generosity is a beautiful thing. I encourage everyone to give it a try.
The joy in his voice when he called to thank me for sending him was contagious! He thanked me over and over again for helping him, but I still don't feel like I did much. Having been on the receiving end of those small but kind acts in the past, however, I know exactly how much it means to him. And that's why I did it.
That's why I continue to share any possible opportunity I spot with my talented friends and colleagues...for the joy. Not my joy, but theirs. It always comes back around to bring me joy, too. Especially when they allow me to share in theirs. Generosity is a beautiful thing. I encourage everyone to give it a try.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Sharing the Spotlight...Publishing Family
http://chakletcoffeebooks.com/index.html
Please take a moment (or more) to visit the homepage of Chaklet Coffee Books. Browse the bookstore for a variety of unique and interesting novels, multiple author anthologies, and poetry collections with dramatic adult content.
Please take a moment (or more) to visit the homepage of Chaklet Coffee Books. Browse the bookstore for a variety of unique and interesting novels, multiple author anthologies, and poetry collections with dramatic adult content.
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