Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

Seeing the signs for Arundel Mills
I knew I was halfway home and felt a strange
Warmth; and I drove into
Baltimore past the harbor I realized no
Other shoes had dropped - and it was
Suddenly so easy and clear, it was only
An hour away, no terrible fights there or
Brought with me, it was even my
Birthday and there was a cake; I was
Brimming over with this feeling and this whole
Season has felt impossibly lucky, and finally I
Understand this holiday; several quiet
Unearned seconds together.

Storytelling

Storytelling

(for Samantha)

My niece, who is three, calls for her
Popup book as I imagine kings of old
Called for drink, slaves, or favorite
Dogs. When it arrives the pages
Are opened and she gestures at
Alice. Wonderland becomes
A princess's journey through
Enchanted lands...

Cardboard unfolds from each
Page as we turn, two dimensions
Mimic three. We watch her
Spin new stories.

In memory I see old popups of
Mine, pages now worn,
Figures torn. With age
I ruined all these books,
Clutching at cardboard;
I reached through
Silhouettes as I grew
Older and lost
Youthful patience with
Surfaces. I wanted so much
To make my stories real,
I clutched too tightly,
Collapsed the mystery.

My wish for you is to keep
Telling yourself stories,
Find life and love in what you see,
Trust dreams. People can be flimsy,
Possessions betray. Always be ready
To turn the next page.

"You will be ok - I swear it"

Zelda's exercise for the evening: Quotes from the women's restroom in the Daily Grind. This is the quote I got.

"You will be ok - I swear it"

You will be protected from Baltimore
Rats. You will never be sad.

You will love your mistakes.
Your family will stay
Out of hospitals. Your husband
Will crawl back in his hole.

Your friends will be normal.
Life will be simple,
And full of little pleasures.
You will go out to see shows,
And forget yourself in time.
You will be happy on your own. You
Will never feel lonely. This will
Happen to you soon.

We will be honest with
Our fear.
I'll never try to
Hurt or cause you pain.
You will be ok -
I swear.

When We Were Revolutionaries

When We Were Revolutionaries

When we were revolutionaries
We slept together every night,
Only the thin canvas of a
Tent between our backs
And the knotty ground, kept
Closer than brothers, sought
Furtive pleasure in a roll of
Worn blankets, slept like
Stones amidst the bugs and crickets.

In the morning we went
On patrol together,
Scented the air, heads half-cocked
Like young deer,
Watched the treeline,
Government troops just over
The next hill, as close
As death.

Now the war is over
And our offices are located
On opposite sides of the
Politburo. Still I pass you
In the staff canteen, or
Feel a twinge when I see
Your name on a cross-department
Memorandum. We speak with
Polite affection, mouth the
Party line, smile our
Affable smiles, at
Official get-togethers.

But - when our eyes meet
In an accidental glance
And I think I see a glint
Of memory, I want to ask
Could I have said or
Done something differently?
We expected an unmarked grave
In a forest clearing,
Not this steady burial.

I have no way of saying sorry
Now. What happened could
Happen again. But listen -

One night soon I'll knock
On your apartment door,
Cash, clothes, and papers
In the car, and in my hand
I'll have two tickets
For the last train.
What will you say then?
What will you say?

My Love / Dead Alive

Two poems here. Glad to say neither is the self-indulgent bs I've been doing. Normally I do one poem per post but neither is really worth putting in its own post.

First one I wrote at Spellbound (goth club) Sat night.

Second one I wrote from a Zelda's Inferno prompt - write a letter to someone in one of your favorite movies.

----

You've never done me
Wrong. Smile at me
One more time. Love
Me as I love you.
You're always there
For me, waiting
In my mirror.

----

To the Protagonist of 'Dead Alive'

One night soon you'll realize
Your mother's love was never love,
her greedy ownership will grow
And grow until it swallows
Anything you felt for her before.
Cleaning her house is not
A healthy thing for a young man to do;
Get out, get out soon.
Oh by the way,
She - not you - killed your father -
Just thought I'd
Throw that in there.
Get out, get out of that house.
Ask the girl from the grocery store out.
But wherever you decide to go-
Avoid the zoo.

lost, my enemy

lost, my enemy

I'll put
the torch to your pyre anyway.
(we're all in the mood
for an auto de fe)
but where will i go
when the cold north wind
blows your ashes past the
crossroads

for so long i defined
myself against you, you're
gone and i'm falling over
loose, rolling awkward,
aimless, sideways, backwards

and i'm so angry (bent over
nursing it for all it's
worth) that even years after
i'm deformed, a you-shaped
hole burnt through

but when the cinders have gone
out where will I go, what
should I do?

you've left me lonely
here without my
hate for you.

You Knew

This is totally the most goth poem I've ever written. Seriously still a bit ashamed. And let's all remember not to confuse the author with the protagonist, k?

-------

You Knew

You knew what I was when you picked me up
Slick, cool scales against your skin
Gently, smoothly moving, convincing
I could be more than alien

I deceived you, in the story,
With my cunning tongue,
But your glittering eyes
Are never mentioned

When you bent down, warm breath on mine
Compelling me, that was
In my nature too, sweet lies,
Making music between me and you

Drowning together. If I could
Have held back my fangs I would
Have. You'll know my nature
Better now. You should.