powderhorn terrace windows...

I am standing with you now
In your atmosphere
Watching
Feeling
Weeping
Because though I am there
I cannot reach out to you nor tell you that I’m there
You pace furiously as you feel the presence of something
Somewhere inside you-
You feel me
I know this
I don’t know how to convey my companionship with true lines
Of myself
You don’t want to see my face
You don’t want this invasiveness to prove real
I am on your mind
And that is where I want to be
You are on mine
And that is where you will live
From across the park
I see the lights of your apartment
I want to crawl in the window
And sit on the ledge of your consciousness
And repeat a million times
How sorry I am
And how I’m figuring things out on my own
The way I must have needed to
But that in all of it I’m loving you
And that love is growing stronger
More solidified each day-
I don’t expect that you’re happy or particularly eager for my return
But in the face of my mistakes I am waiting to come back
And make things right
Because yours dear is a kiss to build a dream on…..

burning mariposa...

She, a butterfly against the walls of my mind
Wings stretched to their fullest
Back towards me
Colors and hues I’ve never witnessed
Soft to the touch
Radiance that leaves a powdery residue once she’s in flight
She’s slow but her crooked direction makes her hard to catch
Graceful in her chaos
She’s within sight but her eyes are facing forward and she cannot see what is behind her;
Me.
I recreate my own form
changing as the shape of her takes on a new appearance
Love is like this
If her flight pattern is any indication of the rocky road ahead than she surely gave me an insight to life with her
Rumble tumble breathe and choke
I come up for air only to find I was never submerged
But the fluid of my thoughts and actions
Have slowly started to pull me under
To a place where lines are blurry

The temperature is always changing and the sun is mistaken for a …..
Description is useless as the ups and down are unpredictable
Years spent looking for a pattern proves futile as well
All is as all was
And I am deciding that those places were never as warm as they were cold
I am surrounded by love
That has always been my blessing
And I give it as much as I know how
But I know she’s thinking she wishes that I didn’t give it out the way I should give it to her
And her only-

letting go of leftover houses...

she sits in front of the fridge deciding on her meal-
oh yeah,
and for me too
she looks and decides which food best describes our lives-
"yeah the tofutti-
Meli-
that's for you.
and for me
yeah, it's the greek salad.
it has cucumber, feta cheese and red onion.."

we drove up and killed the lights
we sat in front of the lights and talked about the memories that were stored inside the blue house with the black shutters...
"that house- i used to sleep in, bec.
that lawn i know by heart
and remember ralph? i had a better looking lawn than him. I know him, my lawn was way better..
that porch,
that porch i used to come home from school or work and take a nap on.
i would ponder the world and wonder if it would end up being as beautiful and quiet as that view of the birch tree and the lawn in back.
i remember many games of football and lazy days of playing catch with my kid brother.."

she says "you know when you found a new best friend- i was demoted to the back seat. Because of darby, i was demoted to the back seat and you used to yell at me for being late for the car pool to school when you were still putting your makeup on while you were driving... you demoted me even though i had been the one who stayed up late talking in my parent's kitchen, feeding you all the m and m's you wanted.. and you let her sit in the damn front seat!"

i think of the pets that used to own the yard and the cat who begged for food.
i remember the walks through my back yard to your house, sneaking in though i knew where the key was. that key was always there for me to use..
I forget the memories until i'm with you and we're in the kitchen we've both known for years, with the food that was always there..

we perform this ritual every time we come home..
only now we think harder because we know the memories in this space are soon to be occupied by strangers and those moments will have to live inside of us...

My lock love...

the numbers on my watch are slowly moving-
the inevitable changing of days
my head is heavy
i just can't get enough of you lately
i'm resigned to this longing i'm feeling again
i'm fine with exercising the muscle of waiting..

in the darkness we are embracing
i can see the stars and moon through your hair-
your arms are
heavy around my body
you told me to remember this moment
and i told you i'd write about it..
i'm falling madly for you,
i say
trying to break through your stomach pains for a moment
I'm not yet used to the reminder that you live with.

You told me that this moment encompassed all that you felt for me;
being outside, under the open sky, the stars and the moon, holding me, with time not being a factor-
I got it- what you said in that moment
but then again I didn't..
I'm used to words spilling from my hearts heavy mantle for you
like-
you
are
wonderful,
you
are
strong,
i
love
you...

From you i get a mirage of images
sounds
and
expressions
that spell those words out more accurately-

yet my words are getting closer to falling from my lips
these words i'm feeling so strongly.
my creativity wanes
my long list of adjectives fails me
when i'm most desperate for them
I
love
you...
are the words that are filling my ears
i
love
you...
is all i can think of-

what is the question i'm asking myself about?
whether it's "responsible" to use those words.
since when did the strongest emotion between two people suddenly become words to
contemplate the logic of?
"is it 'responsible' to use those words?"
hell- it it "responsible" to act as if my heart isn't exploding over something wonderful?
i have never been one to hold down an emotion that moves me
and i won't start now-
withholding a love that is worthy of my full attention..

to a girl whose hair i can see the stars and moon through
whose eyes i see fire in
whose body i see grace in
whose smile i can see life in
whose heart melts my own
i love you...
in every way those three meaningful and meaningless words can occupy

My promise to you is this-
i will not speak those words
but will come up with every emotion
every insight
that you've given birth to in me
and express myself to you through them...

what i'm told...

the paper told me to own my fear
own it the way it has owned me
and cradle it
give it a name in capital letters
then take it apart
piece by piece
bit by bit
shred by shred
until it's impact on me is like a spec of dust-
then when i'm done
hang it's memory on my walls
in my car
in my mirror
so that when it comes back
i know who it is
what it looks like
where it came from
and keep it at bay
like water to oil
with the oil on my skin
keep it at bay
as the piece of art that i turned it into
one day at a time
throughout the years
until it becomes
nothing
but
little...

vertical catwalk with my aeriel artist

its my 8 yr anniversary of giving a big part of myself away to him
and I’m here now feeling like I’ve given too much of myself again-
parts that are more critical than a kidney- I have only one heart.
I spent the day reading one bad headline after another-having one distracted, disconnected conversation after another-

Watching my limp dog sleep the day away- in pain from the needles poking her yestereday that were somehow supposed to protect her from those illusive dog things.
Her solemn demeanor is a reflection of my running to and from this last week-
she is as tired as I should be-
from the volcanic eruption of emotion which has left me volatile and burning hot

I am hating this situation I’ve submerged myself into
It’s been 9 days of your name on my lips and the abrupt silence from you is so loud it’s all I can hear-
I spent 5 out of 7 days with you then nothing for 2 days

The silence is spent with you and him and your year and a half pre-existence before I sauntered into the room of your mind
I got too close-
I got too connected in those moments spent with you
I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t do.
Am I an ass for not knowing better?
No.
I am merely misunderstanding the scope in which you would enthrall me- entice me- wake me.

I’m wishing thoughts away
I’m erasing words just to get a better grip on this.
There is a derailment occurring here and everyone is a potential casualty of my love.

Girl number 1- sweet and somewhat available
Boy number 1- just the same- waiting for a sign from me and only getting something scattered and obscure
And you- Girl with no number who is the new one to me who’s got me tangled in a fury of need and desire

I cannot slip
I cannot do anything but wait-
A friend said I’ve got nothing to worry about- I’m the new woman on the side
The boyfriend is the one who has got to live with the new woman on the side of his lover
whose presumably been his and his only over the last year and a half.
I’m sitting pretty she thinks- and I have to remind myself of this

I just need the clarification I purposely wanted to avoid knowing about-
waiting in the back streets of this little heaven we’ve created makes me want to know more of what’s happening in your head so I can align myself with the right guards-
so I can keep myself in check.

But it doesn’t help that my little heart wants to fall in love-
With something beautiful
And the tragic potential here so suits me
But will I kill myself for your recognition
Will I step into the dubious waters that very well may leave me high and dry?

Time will tell
Because time always has a way of opening it’s big mouth and revealing the beautiful and sometimes ugly truth-
But I’m willing to see this go as far as it will-
Until another place calls you home…

strange undertones...

some would call her a good mother- she seemed present- she did the things the world tells mothers to do- her heavy dreams kept her down- her desire to be loved kept her inside a family that broke her down more and more-
loyalty she learned to define backwards kept her loving an emotionally absent husband- dinners made with love, presented in love, made in anger and emptiness, she sent herself away to repent for the things she did wrong-
to herself
her dreams
her daughter.

an absent mother and two sick sisters-a brother who taught her son how to be a monster-
she went away and lost more of herself than she had to start with-a broken woman of 54 who's given up on finding herself in the mirror-or anything that reflects her lack of self-
i have a feeling this is going to be the most important woman I never knew...

beads of words, necklace of letters...

j, kiss, embrace, words, darkness, anticipation, fear, want, confusion, sadness, k, anger, denial, again and again, smoke, distraction, d can make me feel good right now, distance, last night, good, bad, hard, women, drinks, dancing, numbers exchanged, past coming up, sore spots exposed,best friends, friendship, loyalty, not falling in love, promises to myself, or just false sense of comfort, longing, movie, anguish, untruth, lies, sin of omission, pills, lost dreams, mrs.dollaway.. telling her i wanted to hold her hand- her saying we should hold hands more, me smiling inside, me thinking it's more of an issue for me than it is for other people, feeling better, thinking about what it would be like to kiss her, the fear of actually doing it, knowing she has limited contact, hard to get to, i'm hard to reach, mom calling me sobbing, telling me how lonely she is- my emotions freezing up, that was the last night i felt emotions running through me, it's been a week, how many chances will i get, what is my hang up with taking chances, important chances, how do i identify important chances, being hard on myself, feeling scattered, fingers cut and bleeding, drumming, drinking, smoking, staying up late, maybe that's it, what's got me down,snow- real snow for the first time in a while, a walk in the park, hating the way i feel, helpless to my desires, wanting yet not asking, why, why, why-looking for a sign to move forward, waiting for a resolution to push me through again, knowing it will come, the right thing will come...

I'm thinking...

I speak to her about the entry level conversations we have- not just her and I
but the world around us-
and how important it is to be reminded of what living is..
I know it is so much more simple than we make it-
then I make it..

Life is more than the little dances we dance when trying to get someone's attention
It's more than then clever lines and cute shirts
More than the winks and secret smiles...

Dear Mama...

turning to her
wishing there was more to say
but i'm listening to this story about air rage and how they were looking for "tangye"
and she was telling them, "i am tangye!!! i am who you are looking for!!!"
somewhere in between the dramatic words i fell into some abyss where i just saw her lips moving but nothing was coming out that i could hear
i thought of what i would see when she was no longer who is she is right now-

would i notice the way her fingernails grow?
would i notice the new lines that are stretching across her face
telling me a story of a woman in battle?
who's been searching for the enemy in every face she encounters-
including mine.
what would i say to her if i knew she would hear but couldn't respond?
what will her mouth look like when she is just a body?
will the undertaker make her look the way i've seen her or the way that he saw her through an old picture from an old album?
how do i tell her across the lines of sanity that she's starting to cross more everyday
that i love her?
how have i managed for twenty-eight years to grow further from her rather than closer to her?

yet piece by piece i've tried to put her back together-
make some sense of a story that had a jump start but ended up somewhere in the gray by the time i got to it-
thinking of what she has become since i've known her-
gray facets of a life
white lines of a woman so lost.

who comes looking for the mothers that daughters have lost?
who comes searching for the daughters who become those mothers?
how could such a large number of voices go unheard?

i sit thinking why i know this woman
how could this possibly be the same person who raised me?
she didn't fail me
it started when someone failed her
a long list of women who went unheard but not untouched-
how do we continue to do this?

she came to me one night after hours of drinking and in the darkness told me
she felt like she was losing her grasp-
who was she to anyone?
her kids have grown up and a son who is now a father doesn't need a mother as much as a wife
and a daughter who loves women is replacing her with every new name
and a younger son who she knows she was too tired for
calls her not to speak as much as to preach about the ways he was done wrong and everyone is to blame for his actions and inactions.

she said she used to be the one we came to for the information about the world
but now
what has become of the world?
well,
she thinks that should be left up to my generation because we will be living with the repercussions the longest-
she says she feels a little useless having to depend on us for the information in a world we are all living in-

she thinks family reunions are a time to drink herself into oblivion-
sadly the most honesty and truth i've gotten from her has been in the those in-between moments of dizzy clarity
and sadly that is what i hate the most-
that liquid on her breath
but it is the only way she can make us kids again-
that's the only time when she doesn't feel like her place is disposable-
a lesson that so many mother's learned from being wives who were replaced two and three times over.

a mystery she will forever be to me-
this woman
and books tell me i am searching for her in every woman i love-
that
i don't fully comprehend-
it's meaning eludes me-
but for having someone around for twenty eight years- i don't know shit about her
yet she silently haunts me day in and day out-
the very existence of her makes me question whether i could put any child through it for me-
all the questions
all the careless words
al the anger and confusion.

time is running out and her breath is getting more shallow, her mind more chaotic-
i see her slipping yet i don't take the first step to break her fall this time
i just hope that she looks the same to me when she is just a body
a woman with a dream that she couldn't set free-

she's not angry with me
for looking past her for so long
it wasn't intentional id' tell her-
if only i could.
it was because i was afraid to learn that was in fact she was only human
so much less than what she was in my childhood eyes.

Dear Mama
i'm sorry i was no better than the out of touch husband or careless mother or ignorant neighbor-
i tried
but no one told me how to be more of your daughter
don't forget there was a whole other life that was waiting to live inside me-
one that was abandoned before you found me.

in a sense mama, we are both just spirits in this material world...

1.8.03