Thursday, April 29, 2010

bottom of my suitcase


I found you hiding there
Like that teddy bear
you though had long since vanished
But was buried amongst the boxes
this whole time…
It was a nice reminder
That those moments may have passed
But you are still mine
Still my faithful confidant
Looming back
Hidden away
from what I think I deserve
You serve the sole purpose,
of reminding me
It seems simple
Perhaps too simple to see
And point out
to hold
Too simple to explain
And even to know
But you are my comfort
And I have rediscovered
That I can
This way…
So far from the last
I can…
And I will

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

attempt












Typewriter
Filing cabinet
Carbon paper
Hole puncher
Page
Screen
Page
Paper
Words
Writing
Words
Letters
Be humble
Write
Be humble
Write
Be humble….
Letters
Describe
Explain
You
Are
Letters
Answers
Question mark littered
Essay
Their stories
Are shaky
Are foggy
Misguided
By pen
By ink
On page
On paper
On page
On screen
Resort
Back
Keyboard
Backspace
I’m writing you
Erase
Backspace
Erase
Backspace
Erase…
Not today.

Pencil


You are pencil
Simple as wood covering
Cradling
The bark has be lead
To hollow
Led filled center
You enter page,
as though you were dancing on it
As though you know the stains you make
Will one day shape letters
And we will know to read you
Sharpened and chiseled edges
Left softer from time
Softer from poems
That have escaped
The fine point
You call front and center.
We do not live in subtext.
The back end of you
Holds no eraser
No need…
But is full, Intact,
Bursting with memories.
Hesitance makes up your vocabulary
Yet you are not the gummy pink of perhaps
- You are not about to erase the mistakes you made
Because you know, to us,
they are full of holy words
Made all the more sacred
by the density of the honest
Of the absurd in too perfect
Of the backwards
to heavy and break cord
we fail to recognize
In our own lives.
You are ready to tell us,
“this is where I’ve been”
...
I grow shorter and more delicate with time
Time does not sharpen me
Does not permit these edges
to turn back towards rough
Chiseled
Is the beginning
Chiseled is the weight
of not knowing
Of exploring
The options of pain
And tragedy
Those things have left led to page
And have been replaced.
I keep making my way
Up
To lighter
To smaller
to softer

My marks upon your pages,
Now resemble postcards
Of where I have been
Rather than novels
Telling the stories
I know you could never have seen.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Time

If I had the secret
Cupped, craddled, in the palm of my hand
- The shape of a key
Pressing gently on the lock of time
I’m not sure I could bring myself
to erase these memories
The boisterous, the honest, the ugly
They are mine…
I may bring it to you though,
and tell you to use it wisely
(I know there are moments
You would rather forget)
But perhaps then,
You wouldn’t have met me
And my fidelity to personal experience
Would at once become irrelevant
Such is life
Such is the game of variables
Of interchangeable realities
If I had the key to time
My ear pressed against its lock,
Like childhood curiosity
I’m not sure I could ever
so much as shift these memories

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Elephants (fact #1)


Elephants are the only mamals
that can't jump.
And maybe they dont need to
Maybe they already feel the sky
dancing across their broad surface
And are happy,
rooted to the ground
Maybe they know the sound of clouds
better
From the way it carries itself through the soil
The word that comes to mind,
is majestic
Éléphants have always been a favourite of mine
The way they walk the earth
as though they arent aware
they could hurt anything-
They are serene,
and profound-
...
When you look up close,
some people claim to be revolted
Maybe thats why i love them so much
Maybe their tusks and trumps
Are trying to tell us
They know the way we see them
And to look past…
This calused skin is so insignificant
and if you march long enough
i will shed it for you,
as we all eventually do.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Sky

Open letter to the sky
Lets grow fields together,
Make honey
Mold candles from the honesty we’ve shared
What I’m saying is-
let’s be each other’s bees wax
I want to get to know you
even though
You will tower over me
-I can accept that
and will with as much grace
as my unpolished edges can muster.
Because you
Will never know the tethers I hold-
The way the earth you watch over
Feels under mud covered soles
These fields
Will be the broadest realities we know
We can be community
The way old folk circle music
Brought life to interaction
because though you may clap along, sky,
The laughter of a summer festival
Will never ensue
the way they do in these circles.

You are not gathered around,
But rather, are stuck
Towering above
those you love
Where as I,
I am learning to be small again
To be humble
To stumble into the tiny shoes
I forgot to wear
When I was… say… ten
Back then those shoes were just like you,
they moved too much and they held lightning
Remember the ones with the little flashy lights on the side?
(i know you had a pair)
Mine would thunder through the hallways
Of opportunities I didn’t need to take
I will take them now..
Make no mistake
The hourglass lies
And so do all those who say
You can only grow old-
I am growing young
My life has formed beaches
Built of sand
That runs backwards through my toes
You’ll noticed
My bare feet are now always exposed
They will trudge through our fields
as to better know the world I walk on
better know-that is where I am rooted
at that moment
but during that moment
you ,sky,
you will continue drifting by
and staying still at the same time

I thought I moved too much
Let them pass too fast
But I am glad
You have reminded me otherwise …
You always have and always will tower above me
My backwards grounding point
Upside down as my hourglass
You are my consistency
You make the freedom
Of movement
Home to me

P.S: Though my arms
are now outstretched towards you,
I wrote you this letter
in the hopes that,
much like thunder,
you might her me,
before you see me.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Uniform

Madam
I wish you were naked
Which is to say,
Quite simply,
Your uniform is startling
I wanted to let you know
It is ringing through my
Expectations
Like a bad taste that lingers
Just south
of where the toothbrush can reach
It reminds me
That we are not all who we say we are
And ever those who are
Aren’t really dressed for the occasion
Of honesty
Who are you?
Whoever you are to me
Is hiding behind cardigan
And knee high socks
Madam
Your uniform is startling
Please show me
The mask hiding underneath
Because at least it,
is molded to your skin
Can show me the shape
Of what is cradled within it
Your uniform is a swamp
You have been swimming
In waters
Murky enough to hide your skin
But not your face
Your naked expression
It has done you no good
That much is true,
Dear madam
Your uniform is startling
And if only for that reason,
I wish you were nude…

Honesty


preface: scent and taste bring us back
but touch sight and sound move us forward.

We were supposed to see tulips yesterday
but found that wasnt the way
we were meant
to spend the hours of certainty
we were about to craddle
so instead
we awaited inspiration
sipping honey samples
and orange blossoms
I got the chance to wonder
if sensation
would always equate honesty to me
if touch sight and sound dont lie
then i know what to live by
i can leave homestead
and street-map aside
for the sake of feeling,
whatever today was meant to hold
today told me, yesterday,
that its ok to live my life
in the anticipation
of touch
sight
and sound