Friday, August 19, 2011

This is it. Tear down the towers

I'm the sorry architect of towers
Tall obelisk of deeds
Stacked toward heaven

I'm the high priest of bright flames
And spotted calves
A self-satisfied incense my praise

Tear down the towers.
Remove the alters and high places
Bow low and know
There is no good, no justice
Wrenched from your own blood.

Lay at the alter of His feet
Offer up your hopes
Your dreams, your expectations
Watch His fiery embrace refine
Watch the temporal flesh of your desires
Liquify, turn to precious metal

I'm the sorry architect of towers
High priest of bright, empty flames
Bowing low I know He hears my prayers.

Watch me jive, turkey!

Time is double edged
Finite and infinite
It heaves the living dust
Of life into it's circular spin
Like a hay baler

"Umph! She's in! Watch her
Dance, watch her spin!"

I'm stuck in an eternal
Square dance, Time calling the steps.

I circled round, I Followed
Time, dancing behind like a conga line

Time laughed at my clumsy feet
My vain attempts to repeat

I danced to disco, rock
I Rodger Rabbited, did the robot
Moonwalk, sprinkler, jitterbug
Bopped my head to the raps of thugs

I danced all the dances
Time taught me, danced like a fool
And clumsily spun around in time's typhoon

Uh-uh! Not now!
Watch this jive, turkey!

I move to spite your beat
I dance with two left feet
Anything to teach that square dancing Time
That the dance I dance is all mine.

Watch me jive, turkey!
Watch me jive!

Your stop watch beat leaves no room for grace
My dance card's full
So tick away Time, tick away.

1 of 3, poem from mom

You have to know her to know how funny this is but not to know how sweet it was :)

I tried to read a blog, I did
Hard for a person like me
All but 25 posts are hid
And what is this "feed" I see?
 
Is this a code for people your age
It seems confusing for your Mother
Is this just Yet one more stage
For a daughter and a Mom, oh brother!
 
I sit and laugh, it's late tonight
I tried to get up to speed
Wanted to leave a post to your sight
But how the he_ _ do I accompish that deed.
 
It's way over my head, I say
But it really doesn't matter at  all
Here it is, your final day 
A blog, you made it, you did not fall.
 
Well done on meeting this, your goal
It took a year, but you came so far
Every poem was a part of your soul
I give to you, another gold star.
 
Congratulations, I'm proud of you
But could you do me favor
Next time you write a blog, please do
Send me instructions, so I can savor
 
The works of the author, my princess.
 
I love you and am proud of you.
You did it; but I never doubted that you would.
MOM

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Only one more day!!! Just to jog your memory

It's feet and pavement
Pain. Slow. Clumsy
Waning energy
More coffee! More sleep!
A sort of "tag you're it!"
Assault on my limbs

I hate the start, the way
My muscles and my mind
Collabratively coup.

I run for the ending
The nimble way
My legs concede
The delicious ache
Of momentum and limits
Going at it like Battle Bots

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

2 more to go!

Arid thoughts
Run across my mind
The rustling sound
Of dry scrubby grass
A quiet echo of my thinking
Thoughts, dead,dry
Heat stroked ideas
Floating around like
Lawn mower mulch

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Day 360, dead like disco

He's dead like disco
Always ready for a comeback
Perched defiantly in the past
Lurking lava like in the distance

So that he becomes
Past, present, future, always.

Never! Not any more!

Still you can't look him
in the eye. Still you
Can't separate your loathing
From your want to be loved.

So you gaze at the disco ball
The way it rolls glitter
Like over the dark.

It's a light that doesn't illuminate
It perpetrates his lies.

He calls it staying alive
But you know that's not living
Because you've never felt so dead

Monday, August 15, 2011

Day 359, watching him

He eats Mac
And cheese
He pushes
Orange noodles
Into his mouth
With chubby fingers

He doesn't know
the word
Delectable but
He is thinking it

He doesn't know
That I watch him.
Like fluffy cheeks
Pink puffy lips
And cheesy noodles
Are some kind of
Seventh wonder

He is thinking
Swords! Lightening McQueen!

He doesn't know
What ego is
But we guard it
He and I, like
A national treasure
We guard it

Yes you are big
Strong, tough
Smart, perfect.

Yes, you are.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Day 358, warm wax

My heart is
warm wax
melted just enough
to hurt and mold
to new shapes

my heart is
warm wax
melted just enough.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Day 357, the stale taste of history

Today might taste like
Brussels sprouts but they are
Farm fresh and good for me

Revisiting the past is
Like stale potatoe chips
Driven by some urge you
Pull open the crinkly foil
Hear its rustle and
Get your hopes up

They lack crunch
That's the past, stale, unfresh
Nothing new.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Day 356, laugh louder

Laugh louder
When it hurts
Laugh often
It really works
A time release capsule
Of sweet medicine
The healing touch of mirth.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Day whatever... That's not what I ordered!

I sat to dine
In Fate's cafe
And ordered Sun baked
Days with a side of bliss
The waitress smiled
And returned with a plate
Of Contentment marinated
in Salty tears
All I could think to say
Was, "I did not order this!"

So I stumbled out
Appalled at a place
That would serve me second best
Never realizing that without
Knowing the flavor of salty tears
I could never taste the bliss.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Day 354, utterly

Utterly
As in not a
Little bit
Not so much a lot
But thoroughly
And utterly
Exhausted.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Day 353, summer ends

Summer, you afford me time
Unstructured. I love that but you
Breathe down my neck, your hot
Breath makes me sweat. You are incessant
Like a Greek grandmother.
Your comforting and suffocating

Autumn on the other hand
Is like a beloved house guest.
Shes gentle, gradual
Refreshing. Her husky voice
Is soft like leaves falling
She is kind, merciful
And only leaves when the cold
Wet winter becomes too much for her

I turned down the bed
I set out flowers, I've got all of autumns
Favorite foods bought

Summer I'm not rushing you
I'm just ready to miss you.

Monday, August 8, 2011

Day 352, some, not all

Some times
Some way
Some how
Some day
Some say
Some do
All don't
Do you?

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Day 351, hope is for whimps

Hope is meager and weak
While the world builds
Towers and sanctuaries
Hope offers no shelter

It is vulnerable like a sapling
Tender as green shoots
Breakable, fragile like eggs
Feeble and helpless like an infant

Stare at strength and you feel strong
Stare at hope and you feel weak

You look at Strength and wonder
What will it take to break you?
You look at hope and wonder
What will it take to make you thrive?

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Day 350, the storm

No blip on the radar
The dark angel wings
Of mourning spread, span over

Not cloud cover, but
A wall between us and the sun.

Not a storm of wind and rain
But the arid, dry cocoon
Of a godless womb.

The inevitable birth of
Hope, troubles small child
The tiny wailing lungs
The siren for the end of grief

Friday, August 5, 2011

Day 349, 15 days left!!!

Be on the lookout, I'm going to be talking about a new, exciting, collaborative project coming in the fall. I can't wait. I'm all "poetried" out :) I'm also finally on a real computer today, thus the font formatting and image. As I type I still have no clue what to write about today. I'm happy and have the day off, girls night in a couple of hours with some good friends. Hard to feel angst or inspiration...


Once a ________ always a ________.


Who will you be when
you finish being no one?


You are you, you are Eustice.
scraping scales, you cry because
you can't stand the weight of your skin.


It takes a faith, a naked and raw certainty
that the you are not no one
that there is nothing
separating you from the salve and
ease of fresh skin. Claw all you want.


It will do no good. 


You are always you but you have
never been you.


It's the gentleness
of a lion's breath, the willingness to
face his wrath and mercy.


A simultaneous death and birth.


Where Never's voice is silenced
by the crashing, undulating always of infinity.



Thursday, August 4, 2011

Day 348, who is she

She walks in a maze
Turn after turn looking
For an out, an ending

Dutiful and patient
She turns around
Starts again, always lost
But knowing right where she is

She is the epitome of
Modern woman, she has accepted
The twist and turns as her fate

Her secret...
She wants to be found
Saved, she hates the maze

She has this distant idea that
She was someone else before the maze
That that girl would know the way
She is certain there is an end to the maze
At least she needs to believe there is

She wanders, turns, prays, cries
Uses the soft green leaves for shade
Sheltered in her prison of what will be
Of a proper ending.

She hears the tinkling laughter of happy
Children outside the walls
She wants to laugh like that
Be with them, she stands still
Listens. Knows. There is no maze.

She has simply turned her life to walls
Ways to define and protect the insides
Of her being because

Outside the walls, outside the shade there is no shelter
No guarantees.

She knows. But she does not move.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Day 347, it's all about me

She's as honest as the sunrise
That dissappears on cloudy days

She's constant like the sea tide
High and low, on the go

She's forever and always
Never and sometimes

Forgettable but always on your mind.

Meek, mild easy to read
A curtained smile, a heart you can't see
Stubborn, short fused, hard to please

She's always the same in her contradiction
Contradictory with her sameness

Truth is no one knows but her
Truth is that's not totally true
Shed rather leave you guessing
Than guess what's known to you.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Day 346, no good word for it

I searched and
Searched
For a way to say
Just how hot it is
Every phrase I thought
To say contained an expletive!
It's desert like
I'll leave it there.

You'll find me air-conditioned
Because I do not like foul language
It's that kind of hot
Curse word hot!

Monday, August 1, 2011

Day 345, Charlies poem!

Saving us
I like that
he built this house
God is goofy
(Charlie leans back and yells,
Hey God! God?)
Him not listens to me
He not hear us
He dropped a rib on his head
That's goofy

I love Him singing
In the sky.