Wednesday, June 27, 2007

An Error - 6/27/07

You don’t know
how much I needed you
I needed you
more than you could ever
need me
And I never implied

God gave me the need to be needed
but that’s not how I needed you
In all of your insanity
you were my sanity
Underneath your awkward beauty
lay the companion to my soul
In youth I vowed devotion
You were the light and I, the dark

But as is life
we were soon ripped apart
You didn’t know
how much I needed you
You don’t know
that I still miss you

And in that
lay the end of an era
and the beginning of
an error

Saturday, June 23, 2007

guilt consumes me while I weep - (i don't know when)

guilt consumes me while I weep
tears, bitter and lonely
memories drown me while I sleep
a restless haunting wakes me
I wake with sweat upon my skin
my eyes are dry, yet the mirror cries
reflecting tears within
with sad surrender, my childhood dies
I'm left alone to wonder,
"will his love ever be enough?
can he ever stop the hunger
that burns under my skin so tough?”

Emily Dickinson - (sometime in early 2007)

Is it too lofty a goal
to strive to be Emily Dickinson –
to be misunderstood,
misquoted for years to come –
to be studied by college students,
hated by high school students –
to be loved, adored by millions,
but truly known by none –
to put meaning into every letter,
every word and ever phrase
to be spread across the country
after life’s parting breath –
to watch the children play
from a second-story window
on Main Street, Amherst, Mass. –
to never marry, once to love
twice or perhaps thrice –
to twist letters into words
instead of threads into clothes –
to write of things I’ve never seen –
to see things no one else can –
to know what no one else dares?
strong, intelligent, witty,
quiet, homely, beautiful
Emily Dickinson

Change One Thing - (some time long ago)

I asked my friend at lunch one day
a question that brought great dismay
"I know this question may sound strange,
but what one thing would you change?"
"I'd change the way I see,"
said the girl sitting next to me.
"My glasses make me look so strange.
That's the thing that I would change."
"I'd change the way I think,"
said a boy without a blink.
"My brain is slow, so they tease me.
To be smart would make me happy."
"I'd change the way I talk,"
I said, as I leaned against the wall.
"My voice sounds strange, I often squeak,
I'm always getting called a geek."
"If I could change one thing,"
said a girl we'd never seen,
"I'd have to pick from three.
I think I'd change the way we see
ourselves and those around.
we never see the pain we cause
when we put other down.
or perhaps I'd change the way we thing,
make us know how much they blink
to hold back tears that aren't their fault.
But I think I'd change the way we talk
to others and ourselves.
I wish we'd put those hurtful words
back upon the shelf."
And then she turned and walked away.
She'd said all that she had to say.
We took it hard, those things she said.
Their truth was just above our heads.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Confession - 6/17/07 (this isn't done yet.)

sometimes I think of you
as more than a friend
sometimes I wish
that the night would never end
sometimes I wake up
dreaming of you
someday I’ll go to sleep
holding on to you

Sunday, June 10, 2007

Why I Write - 6/10/07

not enough passion
not enough skill
not enough hunger
to give you that thrill
the thrill of the poem
that reaches your soul
the empty conclusion
that makes you feel whole
I don’t have the talent
I can’t make you feel
my poems have purpose
or that they are real
I don’t have the answers
don’t ask questions right
rhymes aren’t always perfect
but still, I sure try
I write for myself
and I write for you
I write cause I have to
and I love to write, too

Saturday, June 09, 2007

your words - 6/9/07

your words
breathe life onto the page
you speak
more beauty with your pen
than God
spoke in all of creation
give thanks
for the Lord is good
and gave
you the words to speak
and gave
you a pen to speak them with
your thoughts
are a masterpiece waiting to
be written
let it be written

Friday, June 08, 2007

That Says - 6/8/07

there’s an old pink scar on my leg
that says
I’m not good enough

there’s a yellowing bruise on my leg
that says
I don’t hide my pain well

there’s a dark red line on my leg
that says
I’ll never change

Thursday, June 07, 2007

a short poem undeserving of a title - 6/7/07

if I look in the mirror at night
and pray with all of my might,
would I wake up next morning and find
that I’d received my wish and died?

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

look into my mind's eye - 6/6/07

look into my mind’s eye
and tell me, was it real?
swept up in the moment
inhibitions fade
promise something secret
give in to the desire

promise once a future
promise twice a lie
promise last a secret
but then you say goodbye

look into my mind’s eye
and tell me what you see
am I still the person
that you thought me to be?
am I still your little secret?
am I still the one?
am I still your lover
or is that love long gone?

make believe we’re perfect
make believe it’s destiny
make believe it’s anything
make believe it wasn’t me

look into my mind’s eye
and tell me, was it real?
kiss me in the corner
promise me forever
give you all I’m made of
leave me stranded here, alone

first crush - 6/6/07

his eyes, I don’t remember
nor if he ever held my hand
did we pledge allegiance?
did we vow each of our lives?
did we promise to get married?
did he kiss me goodbye?
I don’t remember much today
about my earliest crush
I remember that I loved him
or so my journal says
for three years we were
best of friends
then suddenly, it all changed

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

degrees of desire - 6/5/07

I knew you weren’t ready
but I didn’t really care
you knew I wasn’t ready
but you didn’t really care
different degrees of desire
I, longing for your love
you, longing for my…
that’s not important anymore
you knew I wasn’t ready
I made myself quite clear
I knew you weren’t ready
but pretended that you were
“I love you” I would say
and in return, the same,
half-hearted, mumbled low
I’ve decided that I’m ready
different degrees of desire
leave me wondering
cause I made you wait too long
but I’d still wait for eternity

Monday, June 04, 2007

A Sculpture of Lost Love - 6/4/07

they say a picture’s worth a thousand words,
but is a sculpture worth the same?
how much more would I be worth
if I stood out in the rain
and waited for my broken heart
to turn to solid rust?
would I be worth a thousand words
before I turned to dust?
would you look at me and say
that I’m finally your muse?
would you say I was the only one
that our love was really true?
when I’m gone and nothing’s left
but the final memory
and the picture of my broken heart,
will you look at me
and wish that you could finally say
just what you really meant
when you failed to open up your heart
and gave me up for Lent?

A War Mother's Sorrow - 6/4/07

What war is it
that you must fight
that’ll take you far from home?
Is it worth a human life?
Will you have to give your own?
“It’s a civil war,” you say at last,
“a war for human rights.”
I hear a bomb in the night blast.
Must you really leave tonight?
“I must, dear mother.” You kiss my cheek
and then you walk away.
I won’t see you for fifty-two weeks,
a year minus a day.
When again I see your face
it’s in a casket laid.
Oh, how I long for your embrace,
but all I get is financial aide.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

I want to write you a poem - 6/3/07

I want to write you a poem
tell you how much that I hurt
make a list of all my sorrows
say our love was just a curse

I want to write you a poem
full of all the love I know
give you everything I hold inside
but the pain I would not show

I want to write you a poem
let you know just what you’ve done
leave you empty, knowing nothing
but the void I have become

I want to write you a poem
with all the love I could express
tell you all the secrets of my heart
all but my loneliness

I want to write you a poem
a thousand, if need be
but I just can’t decide
what’s in store for you and me

Saturday, June 02, 2007

replacing love - 6/2/07

blood drips
crimson from my thigh
release –
such fake release
feeling nothing
and *slice*
still nothing

what happened
to the days
when a fingernail
driven deep
into the flesh
could satiate the void
replace numb
with controlled pain

numb and pain
are synonyms
life’s agonies enthrall
introduction to
this cruel game
where blood

Friday, June 01, 2007

no title would be enough - 6/1/07 (an experiment in... something)

you made me
want to write
without you
I don't want to

don't tell me
that you love me
you've proven
you've made me
want to die
tonight, though
I'll just

I would cry tears
on your shoulder
I'd let you
comfort me
you break it
you mend it

but it doesn't
work like that
you can't say
you're sorry
and expect

even from me