Equal Other Halves - March 24, 2008

She doesn't know what to say.
She's floating above the ground,
below the sky; between these lines.


Paper sailboats.
Origami clouds.
Pipe cleaner caterpillars.


All that I was and all that she is
has washed away into places
the ocean hides and keeps at bay.
Today, its all new
and I'm lost but it's true,
in these dark caverned enclosures
lies a small simple statement.


A statement that's holding to
fact, like a glue,
And all that we are is diminished
to two
when we find our reflection.


Yet, not knowing who or why,
it's how we undo
our own imperfections,
our own self-rejection.
It's how they desire our very complexion.

The Answered Question - March 20, 2008

Can't I stay in your arms forever?

(In the drizzling dripping darkness
of this guilt laden rain
that pours down on our
interlaced fingers--intertwined beings--
in our intermittent rendezvous
the gutters are filling and
flooding with the bile of our denial.)

I cannot stay.

(I cannot close my eyes and reside in the sigh of this calm;
in this cooling serenity.
Nor can I embrace the heat in the warmth of our bodies,
the palpitations of my heart--

Clouds block my moon
and its ending too soon.
Like the needle of an antiquated record player
it's skipping the tune.

This rain, my shame--intolerable pain--
from which no one can claim any gain.
Down in the dregs of the drain
my silent silver sentiments sink
to join my flitting hope and flailing faith.)

I can't.

Transfiguration - March 11, 2008

It's not raining

but your familiarity is

drizzling down

the cold smooth surfaces 

of my skin like

November without an umbrella.

Sensation sparks on sullen statues,

while the copious cadenced chords

lie heavily in the fluidity

of my broken breath and 

unspoken word.

The sun is shining

but your shadow frets relentlessly

upon the ceaseless rotations

of my ragged wretched mind

wrought with the reckless 

worship of child-like adoration.

Those lonely eyes,

like stray cats that wander 

in empty dust-covered cupboards

looking up from places within their withered 

and weathered solitary spirits--

desperate in their desolate demeanor,--

console me.

It's like they're speaking the sighings 

of a shattered serendipitous serenade;

it's like they're feeling the fettered 

and fallible fodder of a fabled faith in goodness.

Responsibilities that are articulated with no drop of eloquence

in the dripping, drenching severity of sarcasm--

all of this nonsense-- 

it's a paltry pretense for this pale prickling pain

peeking through the crackled plaster veneer which 

veils my vitrified veins,

vested with the resonance of 

my patterns for peace.

Folding - March 08, 2008

Silver serpents sigh

with the dry wry

expression of

shaking searing

incompatibility

biting in my veins.

Holding 

blood that

quickly drains;

Settles and sinks.

Try.

Cry.

Anger: fear in gear.

MippyMappyM'Loo and Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo - March 05, 2008

[Note: This was written just for fun!  But, I'd like to dedicate it to my true life Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo, Miss Jessica!  It's pretty raw and unedited and I wrote it in a half asleep goofy stupor but I hope you love it!!]

Once upon a very gray and rainy morning there was a small mouse that lived in an old microwave-melted tupperware bottom.  It was melted just so, so that it formed a perfect little sphere of a home for the little mouse.  The mouse (whose name was MippyMappyM'Loo, in case you were wondering), on this very gray and rainy morning sat perched upon her little melted plastic home and gazed up through the cobwebs and dusty air of the little barn that she inhabited.  Of course, to little miss MippyMappyM'Loo this 'little' barn was quite an enormous world.  Still, she wondered what it might be like to live on the other side of the dark walls out the pushed out wood knots where she could see the drizzly rain rushing quickly to the earth.  She'd been out 'there' for morning strolls and quick runs to snag strawberries before the Farmer and his family woke in the morning (They always seemed so confused to find the veins of strawberries missing the ripest of the berries.  This made the little mouse giggle with glee.)

The mouse, MippyMappyM'Loo, sighed and retreated into her little microwave-melted tupperware home where she curled up under an old pocket she had borrowed from the scarecrow at the end of fall.  It was early March now and she was sure the flowers would start blooming up soon enough but she was tired of the rain.  The rain, it seemed, loved to play with the dirt... and they made a terrible concoction which made her morning strolls quite a sticky predicament.  Aside from stickily precarious strolls in the after-storm mornings MippyMappyM'Loo was jealous of the wonderful friendship the rain seemed to have with the dirt.  No matter how long the rain took to return from wherever it went when it wasn't visiting her little barnyard the dirt always welcomed it back with open arms...to create that sticky dark oozy concoction.  MippyMappyM'Loo knew she was only jealous because she missed her friend who had left so many months before (before the rain had begun to make its frequent visits after a long absence).

Miss MippyMappyM'Loo had had a friend.  A cheerful and carefree caterpillar named Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo.  Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo had inched her way on to the back tail feathers of a great multicolor hawk (yes... this particular barnyard has a multicolored hawk).  She (Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo, of course) had spied this hawk and craved the adventure that it could bring.  MippyMappyM'Loo had been too afraid to venture along although her friend, the caterpillar had invited her time and time again.

That day Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo inched her way on to the back tail feathers of our friend, the multicolor hawk and off it soared taking away MippyMappyM'Loo's close dear friend.  And so, as the rain trudged on the little mouse grew weary of the weather and wished she could have a friend the way the rain had the dirt...and the dirt had the rain.

Time passed and spring emerged from all of the dark corners of the barn and barnyard.  The little mouse emerged one morning, from her microwave-melted tupperware home to stretch in the light of the warm warm sun.  Climbing (carefully, of course) to the first hole in the barn wall she blinked through the bright light and looked at the lingering rain that lay quietly embraced by the dirt that seemed to sigh and cry at the rain's departure.  It was evident though, that the rain and dirt knew well enough of their friendship that they knew they'd see each other soon.

MippyMappyM'Loo then turned her gaze to a carefree and cheerful butterfly fluttering towards her in the glowing light of spring.  In a tree, off in the distance, a familiar multicolor hawk gave a knowing 'multicolor hawk' sort of smile and MippyMappyM'Loo knew it was her dear friend Bizza Lizza Dizza Doo who had returned transformed by the winter and an adventure in unknown territories with the multicolor hawk.  

And, so the two dear friends caught up on months of separation and MippyMappyM'Loo, the shy and timid mouse decided she might try and have some adventures of her own now too!

The End.