Short poems from September

Sunday, September 5th 2010

rain like snowflakes
in late evening light
glittering remnants of summer.


Thursday, September 8th 2010

Lined paper on the window
Wistful reflections
Of old thoughts.

Filled by Words

Inspired by some really great slam poetry I was listening to, this poem was originally supposed to be longer, but I never finished it.  I probably never will.  It was also never rewritten or edited at all.  But, here it is in all it's rough and unfinished glory!

The words…

They wriggle underneath my skin,

Fill up the cavity of my chest

Empty, before now.

Fill me up and make my fingers tingle

Eyes closed

Awaiting the continuation of the dreaming world

Knowing

That sometimes the truth is too big to hold inside for long.

The remnants are left in the cracks on my lips

Lips that those words never passed through.

Leaving instead the same way they arrived

Breaking through my skin,

Trickling down my flesh like rain

While the sky is clear.

And my fingers click

Click away at the dusty keys in a desperate

Hopeful spill of click-click-clicking sound.

Knowing it was all gone long before I knew to reach

Rain

Friday, July 9, 2010

It’s been raining all day.
the Sky
(tired of dripping sweat,
Burning pavement,
Crackling grass,
Sprawling out-
Heat.)
Opens arms wide to drench the ground
(my face, eyes turned up to the sky, feet in puddles, a thousand rivers running over—
down, curving, trickling, dripping—
my skin)
For the first time in days, the temperature drops.

My poetry travel log from my trip to Gaspe...

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

Tree farms pass
some old,
overgrown with
Nature.
a woman waters her
Green Farmhouse
while guitars play
wistfully,
from the stereo.

~

Out of the mist
Soft mountains rolling
Toward the sea

~

lights fall,
glassy,
as we breath deeply:
searching for the Ocean.

~

I sit on a worn comforter
Banged up old motel
And listen to my sister's laugh ringing
Joyous
Through the open window.
---

Wednesday, May 19th, 2010

Finally
low tides rocks stretching-
Home.
salt water on my feet and face:
Doubly blessed.

~

smooth
rough
sharp
slimy
slip!
hard
soft
prickly;
The world passes by underneath my feet.

~

A boardwalk
A small spider
And the sound of waves.
I scribble quietly in my notebook.

~

The ocean speaks loudly
Salt on my tongue
Salt in my veins

Always changing: constant
Beats in my chest
Beats on the shore

Cold heart never distant
Soles in the forest
Soles in the sand

Numb feet baptized in white water.

~

Looking out the car window
Eyes flicking lazily.
Suddenly-
A waterfall!
Tumbling down the rocks
Gone in an instant.

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

A cloud landed
Softly,
On the top of a mountain
Slid down onto the road
And enveloped our car.
Muffled, we drove through.

~

I breath deeply
the water
in my bottle
smells of ocean
even though
we've left the waves
far behind us.

~

remembering a day
when the sky landed on the beach
to play in the waves
that stretched long fingers
over the sand

~

three generations
we stood, foreheads pressed
against the cold window
watching the lightning zag
the lighthouse flash
and the whitecaps crash.
the roar of the ocean
held us close
in the cozy hotel room.

~

Driving through the city
(Oppressive air
And crumbling pavement)
when, suddenly-
a bird flits by
lit golden by the setting sun
to disappear down an empty street.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Black bird
Sits on a branch
Orange leaves opening

Risk

Tuesday, April 7, 2010

why?  I ask

watching from behind the blinds

as someone rides by

blocking out the world with two small earbuds.

 

I know the certainty of holding back

like the boy on the bicycle

staying hidden

content in containment of Self

risk gets forgotten.

pushed carefully to the back of the closet

where I don't have to look at it

and can almost

almost-

forget it's existence.

 

dancing in confinement

starts to feel like freedom

after a while.

 

but risk is always there

even when I close my eyes tightly

thinking of warm places

and sweet darkness.

I feel the pull

longing

for something spicy

dangerous.

sparkling eyes and bitten lips

strange streets and breathless laughter.

distant

dreamlike.

reality seems so mundane, sometimes.

Life something that happens

on the other side of the glass:

not for me.

But…

  

yesterday,

I opened the door

just for a moment:

the sunshine smelled like adventure.

Friday, March 12,  2010

Cinnamon
On orange flower painting
Spicy and bitter

(Forgot to post this earlier)

Friday, February 5, 2010

In a light-filled room
I pour amber maple syrup
On a warm brown waffle
And think about life.

Broken Pavement

Thursday, March 11, 2010

To find the secret way

Beside the voices-

Whispering of heretics

Traitors.

Mother Culture holds us close.

We must

Walk the winding paths

Away from the highways,

Sidewalks,

Sticky-hot asphalt.

Where:

Blueberries grow

And you can eat the cattails

Waving in the passing breezes.

Avoid the-

Institutions,

Corporate

Long grey hallways.

I’ll find the old buildings

Reclaimed by-

Love

Life

Life

And camp,

By a stream that fish still follow.

While I watch beauty escape in-

Ruins.

Finally,

Truly free

The stars will find me.

My Poem a Day project went on hiatus for a while.  From February 8th to March 10th I wrote only one poem.  However, I have now resumed the project!

Monday, February 15, 2010

Cobwebs criss-cross
My window
Dust gathering solemnly
Along the sticky strands.

Monday, February 8, 2010

finally,
silence in a warm room
I blink slowly,
rest.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

warmpth and happiness
laughter 'round a table in a bright-lit room
hot tea
sipped with smiling mouths

Saturday, February 6, 2010

The low sun
Flashes
Flickers
Through the trees
Red Light
In the space behind my eyes
Telling stories
From a billion years
Of watching
The spinning planets.

Knowing
Brushes past me
With wonder
In a blinding flash
I shut my eyes
My heart beats,
And we drive on.


~

two sisters
lean close together
shining white
alone in a field of brown bark

~

Suddenly-
a cloud of birds
sharp wings outlined by grey sky

~

bare sculptures
painted branches
twist in praise of the sunlight

~

The eyes of a house
Watch us,
Disspassionately,
As we drive by

~

out of the fading daylight
we drive into the shadows
of heaped-high stormclouds
the sun shines bright farewell
as it fades into greyness
winks,
then disappears.
darkness falls.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

excitement bubbles
suitcase bulges
two days until we leave!

Slippery

Monday, February 1, 2010

Do you remember when we used to catch tadpoles?
Their bodies slimy smooth and soft
Tails strong.
Remember when we'd let them go,
After a little while?
They'd dart away quickly
Into the murcky shadows
And we'd go home
Spattered in mud
Smelling of pond scum and fresh air and
Happiness
Do you remember, now?

Sunday, January 31, 2010

The quiet whirr of the refrigerator
A bruised apple on the table
And the salty taste of blood on my tongue
All is still.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Encased in a warm glow
I look outside
And smile at the glistening snow

Friday, January 29, 2010

The setting Sun
Turns grey slush
For a moment,
Golden.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

in the shower
the frosted window
glows muted grey
old snow
and tired sky
then-
the sun breaks through
for a moment
the drops on the glass pane shine

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Jagged
Dark
Bitter
Chocolate melts in my mouth

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

A white globe
In a yellow kitchen
Mimicking the Sun

Monday, January 25, 2010

Time passes
Strangely
A month since Christmas
And the flowers brown
In a holiday water glass
While the rain pounds down
Outside
And I dream
Of Summer shadows

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Late night soup-sipping
With those I love

Friday, January 22, 2010

Curled up on the couch,
I notice
The crowded space
Where the tree was was,
A short while ago.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Dog drinks big mouthfuls
Walking off,
He leaves a river in his wake.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Notes carress my mind
Sensuous
My fingers dance
Instinctually
To the music

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

fuzzy cat
curls up
on fuzzy blanket

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Curled up in the corner of the couch
Tucked under a pink wool blanket
She clutches a deep blue mug.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Early afternoon
clean-ribbon-tied-rushing
For tea in the woods.

~

A January day
When Winter remembers that
It doesn't last forever.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

A solemn lady
On an old wooden desk
Eyes turned downward

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

feline footprints
purposeful, across the lawn
imprints in the dark

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Discarded on the floor
Limbs splayed
In a patch of sunlight
The doll's shirt glitters.

~

Half-lit
The light and the shadows
Wage war on a flower
Half-dark
The lamp and the setting sun
Dance over the petals

~

The sunset
Tree-Silhouette
Water frosting on the glass
Framed in a window
Light fading fast.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Sprawling,
The Airedale thinks he owns the chair.

~

Glistening wrappers
Scattered on a wooden desk
Shine in the lamp light

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Needle flash-weaving
Through furry fabric
A life emerges.

~

hair shining
concentration
hunched shoulders
busy fingers
new eyes to the world.

~

I plug the lights in:
One last night, bittersweet, of magic.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Regal and annoyed,
The cat's tail twitches
In the still room.

~

murmurring
exclamations
laughter
drifting in from another room:
I sit and rock.

Friday, January 8, 2010

black ribbons around green stems
knotched leaves carress still air
petals tickle my skin

~

Sweetness brushes
Shadows curl
Thoughts shine over glossy leaves

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Enchantment is a state of mind
a swirl of colours
a collection of notes
a spark of understanding
that keeps the world Alive.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Seeing the words
Line upon line scrawling down,
My heart swells
Knowing they came from my hands
A smile pulls at my lips;
Satisfaction.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

tiredness
weighs down eyelids
clings stubbornly to feet
and whispers stories in your ear

~

memories of Egypt
red lights under fresh snow
on a passing lawn

Sunday, January 3, 2010

The story:
My life
can be told in small mouthfulls of words
spit out daily onto blank sheets of paper

Friday, January 2, 2010

your name
echoes on my tongue

~

Quiet companionship
smiles, laughter, tears
And a flickering screen.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Sometimes
the only thing
that remembers
is the Silence

~

Winter
doesn't seem to have been a big inspiration to me
in the past.
I don't understand why
because the
Glitter snow
Still
Cold
Breath
muffled
haunts me.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

watching writers-
brows creased,
craft their words.

~

The triple moons glitter
One, in the sky
Two, on a screen
Three, in my heart.

~

When I close my eyes
The Moon
Reflected in the dark behind my lids