her's was gray just like her skinwhen i was nine, she folded two origami cranes
out of gum wrappers she plucked from the sidewalk
cracks. she placed one in my palm and curled
my fingers around it; told me
one day they're gonna come to life and help us
New DayI wake between my partners
in crime, slide speedy through the sheets
between them, quietly thunk to the floor,
settle there and breathe
their morning essence: clean
like last evening, but warmer
and with a well-seasoned soul.
Rousing, I wash
and drink from the shower spray.
I put on fresh clothes, and watch
my husband and daughter sleep on.
I think, We are three
of a kind, peas in a pod, whole:
kittens with mittens.
I kiss the one, and the other
stirs. I kiss her too, and start
toward the bedroom door. Without them,
I move through the early day,
listening for the sounds of their rising.
They wake, and in time come to me,
and bring with them the crest of morning.
For and AgainstI am filled with ebony clouds inside
Couldn't keep them out so to you I will lie
I am tired of a stranger's bed
You shall not have me, have a white cloak instead
Fear turns into anger, anger turns into sadness
You are wrong for you are the source of my madness
Those tonesAh, so another day
where the world dissapoints you
ah, so another day
where yet again
everyone is a planet of gouged out eyes
and you are the giant of the billion eyelids
this is another day where
-sigh- the atmosphere
once again is your own personal soapbox
and once again
I must see my ears scratched
-over and over again-
with your never ending editorial
and why the planet must endure
with your rioting vacuumed saliva
torsional strengthlooking out...for the other, for the best
lucking out...endure injure, no precept
now reticent, now unsure, now unkept
desire, hidden from view
unsure, what ever to do
treasure, some old some new
fire, burning hearts do accrue
silent, but no-one knew
vibrant, but i've loved so few
open, i couldn't to you?
could i? you are, who?
fear, just who are you?
desires, erotic, a few...
soullove, heart yearning anew...
mind telling, oh what to do...
thru' out night...
around so tight...
024. Rebirth -- The Winter BabyI know they all say this
but I would do it all over
again in a heartbeat.
This time I would do it
the way I planned.
For starters you would be
head down inside me
those last two weeks
instead of upright
like a wriggly little player
piano. When the pain started
that your father thought was gas
we would walk with you
to the river and crunch
along the ice and tears
so cold and slow on my face.
In the house, no strange nurse
would check me, but the midwife
who knew your frog legs, rump,
the points of your elbows, the rush
of your heart. All together
we would know when it was time
and together our family
would labor and grow.
Do not call me AtlasYou ask me to carry you,
but how can I?
I can't even lift you off the ground--
your strength was my own.
You have been shouldering me for all of these years
and I swore my life that I would support you
but never in my life have I wanted to.
When did you become so weak
that I became large at your side?
Was it not days ago that you towered over me,
teaching me to stand?
Why do you lay at my feet now,
How can time contradict
what time had made apparent?
How could the mere ticking of time
How could time bring you to your knees?
You were my world
and now you ask me to bear it's burden.
I was not ready.
I will never be ready.
The Faceless FamilyI am Icarus kicked from the nest.
Beams of the sun bare holy glares,
That melt the pitch between my feathers
Until I’m burned by my own tar.
Falling tar-baby of the morning,
Slipping from the itching womb of the mother,
High in her perch, pushing, cawing at me
As heavy whispers whip my ears,
When the currents below me disappear,
And I sink with her lost pride; failed.
I plunge into the Sea of Shame and flounder,
Beg adoption from cruel Fate’s fostering
Of the coast; for a moment, just silent gravity
Then the shaking of the giant trees,
Shuddering in disgust of my weakness
As the fruits of their labor, their grapes of wrath,
Drop as if they were filled with lead pits
Like a sack of oranges on my black sheep head,
Kicking in my sea of desire I wept in envy.
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