Headline Poem 8/31/14 -- In my twenties

This weekend the movie Wild premiers in Telluride, Colorado. I can hardly wait to see it, and since the movie is about Cheryl Strayed in her twenties, it inspired today's poem. 

In my twenties

I held your face in between 

my steady hands, 

calloused from distractions 

of my work, 

but otherwise smooth. 

I needed you,

but didn't think you 

needed to know. 

So I didn't tell you 

    until that day in the rain 

when you 

blew smoke in my face 

and 

told me you loved me, 

but had to leave. 

You wondered out loud if 

that was the biggest mistake 

you'd ever make. 

Then

 we took a walk 

and made    love down by 

the sycamore tree 

where crickets mocked 

us 

and bats quietly flew East. 

Headline Poem 8/30/14 -- Compassion

Compassion

Compassion 

is the morning song 

that sends intimidation 

packing. 

Headline Poem 8/29/14-- Burden

Burden 

I'd rather be heavy 

from 

carrying the weight

than thin from fasting 

on 

disillusionment. 

Headline Poem 8/28/14 -- I'm

I'm 

I'm a bird perched on a swing, 

a ladybug wandering 

while he waits 

for his wings.  

On a raft I float, on the moon, I gloat. 

I'm on fire. 

I'm a dog nestled on a brand new bed, 

heading to sleep after being well fed. 

I'm a lion who sunbathes in the plains and free spaces. 

I bend with the wind, which blows with unannounced faces. 

I'm flexible. I'm confident. I'm evening out, like a

picnic blanket fresh from the line, 

ready for the basket and a nice glass of wine. 

I'm a grand piano happy to play. 

I'm colorful in spite of the black and the white 

world in which some solely see. 

I sneak 

into living rooms and bring 

my friends with me. 

We make music and paint pictures 

and hang them on walls 

that wrap their arms around us all. 

I'm here with my whole heart, 

with my babies and thee. 

I love living this life meant 

just 

for 

me. 

Headline Poem 8/27/14 -- A Wednesday Hymn

A Wednesday Hymn 

I surrender 

to the storm 

I've 

tried 

escaping, 

because I realize 

it's the same one 

I've 

been 

chasing. 

Headline Poem 8/26/14 -- A tribute to Rumi

(Rumi, photo credit Google Image)

Seems everywhere I turn, Rumi is being quoted. He's timeless, a libra, and one of my favorites. Tonight, a tribute to him. 

A tribute to Rumi 

I am the grape waiting to be wine,

red content to be red,

green happily plucked from the vine. 

I am sour. I am sweet. 

I am 

small, dry, wet, full of seeds, 

intoxicating at best, abundant at worst. 

I need serene. 

I need romance. 

I need a handful of dreams,

to be seen and

heard, 

respected for my mind, 

my ideas 

that swirl around the cup that's filled

with revelations that twirl

where colors collide and then 

burst 

on the inside. 

I want a description written about me 

and my different moods and 

different seasons, 

offering up my information using 

echoing language 

that pulls them in with words that linger and swim,

how my ingredients 

make perfect 

additions and sweet combinations

for lunches and dinners, 

and spontaneous late night desserts 

unplanned, 

but that last all night

    until the moon is dizzy and ready for  

        slumber. 

I'd like an alter to rest 

upon, my offering of love 

never undone. Wrapped like a gift,

in never-ending paper made from sacrificial trees. 

I want to drink of myself 

and be pleased 

with the taste,

ripe in all the right places. 

I want to follow leaves and winter coal. 

I want to heat the emptiness in a stove 

of fire and light. 

I want to watch the bread rise inside 

and welcome the knife that cuts its flesh 

for serving, on a platter covered in herbs and vegetable soup, 

soft and filling, 

a perfect fit for fish

or apples, or 

honey stew. 

Headline Poem 8/25/14 -- in the morning

in the morning 

Last night they were mad,

but they've had 

Denver omelettes now,

and feel better.

Some say the drink 

numbs the heart. 

Others say it's the devil 

in disguise. 

They find it tags along 

like a seagull

 on a line.

It'll shit but it'll be fine

as long as they 

can tame the flight,

and keep their hope afloat

  in the morning. 

Headline Poem 8/24/14 -- My promise

My promise

My promise 

is to see you through eyes 

that are different than anyone else's. 

I'm sorry I abandoned you when we moved

 away and you were alone with our babies. 

 I 

   panicked and left to take 

care of our mess. 

I was trying to be the man 

and support you,

but leaving you made you leave me 

and hate me and fear me, 

and that's not what I intended. 

I'm sorry I hurt you. 

I came home so many times 

to a nothing-really-left-of you 

self, but that unpredictability is gone

now. 

I feel 

safe(r) like you do. 

I f'd up and lost my way 

for so damn long, 

but the years have softened me,

finally.      

You're my beautiful girl 

and I want to be a 

good man every day 

and night 

who lives, not to fight 

or retreat or eat, 

but to smile,

say I love you, and

mean it. 

Headline Poem 8/23/14 -- the summer she started to count her steps

the summer she started to count her steps

there was the 

summer 

she started 

to count her steps. 

Six

for the right foot meant six 

for the left. 

It might have been winter or fall, 

or hell 

even spring,

  with dusty shelves and 

settling things. 

The 

babysitter looked perplexed, and asked,

"Why are you counting your steps?"

   (Because if she didn't then nobody         would, 

     and that mattered to her)

That was 

the beginning

 of the rituals that shifted

between fading and 

alternating, 

the same order with 

soap and shampoo. 

Then 

 the shoes,  

and socks when it was cold. 

Right foot first. 

She's wasn't sure 

what would happen if the 

left

 cut in line, 

But she was too afraid to try. 

Up against the table corner 

her arm would brush,

and then, 

the opposite side must get 

the rush

by way of the fridge 

or the doorway, or even a towel. 

Both sides must even out. 

I'm surprised she could walk 

anywhere 

with 

all of the cracks that still

hadn't broken her mother's back,

like they 

threatened in songs. 

But

It was 

early, and though her trust 

thrived

most days, she

wasn't ready 

to see what was 

in store 

   for her 

just yet. 

 

Headline Poem 8/22/14 --telephone nights

telephone nights 

remember telephone nights,

spending hours at a time 

on the line

and then hanging up 

and having no other 

contact or

interaction 

or conversation or 

up to date posts 

until 

the next time? 

I miss that,

sometimes. 

Headline Poem 8/21/14 -- Love

I read a post tonight that included some correspondence between Tolstoy and Ghandi on love and why we hurt each other. This inspired "Love."

Love

Love

hurts and sucks the life 

right out of us. 

And then puts it back, 

detached and attached, 

leaving us 

     needy, vulnerable, 

     feeling whole and feeling half. 

 

I'm not sure why we hurt 

each other      except that

we want a 

partner in our crime(s) 

and 

for his heart and her heart 

to feel like mine,

hurt and broken and afraid, 

 but able to be remade

like a bed or a shed or a piece of forgotten bread, 

hidden but ready to be warmed 

and fed. 

Real love begins 

when 

new promises are made, 

from places of wisdom and 

weaknesses and strengths. 

Like things that break, 

we are much more careful 

once we've seen 

the pieces and cracks

and lines 

of sharp, broken glass. 

It helps if you are 

the one who applies the glue too. 

Those who lose and hurt 

can feel pain 

and regain 

but

the love that is great 

is just the start. 

Forgiveness reigns 

     and must  be   where 

we begin. 

I can't speak for you, 

but for me,

 

I swear 

that is the gift that 

continues to give. 

Headline Poem 8/20/14 -- the in between

I was trying to decide between the (becoming by the minute) controversial #icebucketchallenge and the crazy ass weather we are having with rain and thunder and lightening today for my headline poem. So, I combined the two and wrote about 'the in between.' Plus I have Common Core on the brain, and so to end with a question, asking your view about this challenge, seems right. 

the in between

sometimes when there's a decision 

to be made

it's okay to escape 

(temporarily) 

to the in between 

of ghosts and goblins and

daydreams...

 just ask me

I'm a libra, and

  know 

a bit about

such things

the in between 

is no place for the faint 

or weak

   (of heart

   or body 

   or mind)

sometimes you feel like you've 

dumped 

a bucket of water on 

your head,

which doesn't make you a 

good person or 

bad, but simply wet instead

soaked

from head 

to toe

playing along 

with good intentions

        which are being questioned (again)

by those who have time 

to dig and rewind, 

but who may be worthy,

and god forbid, 

right

the water means 

you are willing 

to do

something you 

believe in

(and hopefully will follow 

through

before the ice melts)

some say they

are     wasting water, 

while it rains 

for the first time 

in months 

what say you? 

Headline Poem 8/19/14 -- tie dye sky

tie dye sky 

swirls of cotton and candy, 

pink and blue,

 ancient lullabies combine 

with a few 

hours-before-midnight 

tie dye sky

birds of protection 

    and of prey

fly by 

with effortless effort,

stretched and smooth

 reminding me 

of you 

I will wait 

by the lopsided phone booth

covered in graffiti and 

you'll see how far I've come, 

our souls mirrored 

in the 

glass 

of bubbles and

youth

a feather floats by on 7th street,

      while the phone rings

intentions become clear,

and a new journey 

begins

hello?

Headline Poem 8/18/14 -- her motto

her motto 

if

when you look 

at  me

you judge what 

 you  see

 f thee. 

Headline Poem 8/17/14 -- garden frog on day three

garden frog on day three 

he digs and sleeps

and barks, restlessly, 

loudest, oddly,

on day three 

humbly, 

he jumps over tomatoes

and grape seeds, 

not yet for picking, 

but one day... 

he scales the strawberry patch,

is his favorite place, 

so much so that I won't 

pick the darn things,

in case 

he decides to surprise

 me

in the pond, he swims 

and jumps, gliding through 

warm 

green 

water, 

kibitzing with friends

he's avoided the falcon,

 the hawk,

the raccoon family,

and our dogs 

     who hear him,

     like us, 

     at two a.m.

Headline Poem 8/16/14 -- A life of color

We saw the movie The Giver today, and then had amazing friends over for dinner, so naturally, I'm seeing and feeling things in color. Today's poem is inspired by the movie -- pretty much a headline. 

A life of color 

It's a question 

we've been contemplating 

since the beginning of time. 

     Do we live a safe, 

controlled life, 

    free  of pain (and love), or 

do we drip wet 

with passion and tension 

and  fear 

and  risk it all in case 

there is a place 

worthy of being naked 

and colorful and free? 

Do we live a life 

in the ignorant cave of 

black and white 

without hate and jealousy 

and pride and    

shame, 

all existing exactly the same? 

No! That is worse. That is destruction. 

Instead 

we go 

    past the boundary

walls toward memories 

    of murder and snow, 

cold and ugly, 

awful and impossible to explain. 

Today or then or tomorrow or next week. 

We chose a life that 

drenches us and lassos us 

and leaves us 

cut 

open and exposed, 

bleeding violet and lime 

and indigo, 

     

but also hiding in a waterfall 

with a lover's face pressed to our nose. 

Kissing. Feeling. Taking in it all. 

No color may feel like enough, 

And

until you've smelled 

the rainbow 

and eaten the red fruit of despair, 

you can't relate, or hesitate, or communicate, or deliberate, or 

make any sort of love 

at all. Ever. 

Headline Poem 8/15/14 -- so you see

There are so many headlines. I cannot write about just one. So instead... so you see. 

so you see

most of the things 

we take for granted

are the things

we 

have 

but believe 

we can't

so you see...

it's unreal for most of us 

to 

find what we 

love and 

love what we find 

simply because... 

we believe the can'ts 

more than the haves 

Headline Poem 8/14/14 -- Mid August

Mid August 

I'm not sure I have much to say today. 

I feel like my weathered arm chair,

worn in and used, 

but not in a bad way. 

My chair is a place where I rarely sit. 

If I'm still, I'm usually asleep, and that's it. 

My dogs take turns warming up this space, and it's obvious by the 

cracks, 

and tears,

and edges, it's completely 

in need

of being restored. 

But. I'm not gonna. 

I'm keepin things

how they are for now 

because 

I'm tired, 

and like my chair, 

I've never been more 

comfortable 

than I am 

today. 

Headline Poem 8/13/14 -- Photography

There's a lot going in in the world. Fighting, hunger, war, abandonment, struggle, passion, love, loss, gain. Photography attempts to capture and alter it all. Today's poem is dedicated to some of these photographic images. 

Photography 

Capturing reality to 

show

the world 

exactly

what we want it 

to see. 

Or, exactly what it wants to see. 

Or, exactly what we want it to be. 

Headline Poem 8/12/14 -- To have

Lauren Bacall (Photo credit Google Image) 

For Lauren Bacall. 

To have

To have 

a look that can

seduce a man

and 

millions before even

saying a word, 

and then speak like

  a forest fire,

beautiful and deep,

is to take all

the 

feet and sweep 

them 

off 

on an electric boat

sailing for a destination

beyond great. 

Headline Poem 8/11/14 -- her Captain surrenders

In honor of Robin Williams. May he now be free of pain. 

her Captain surrenders

the 

unpredictability grows

like a vine, 

allusive, small, chemical, 

toxic, fast. 

He prays 

it will pass. But when he gets what he wants, it just comes back. 

The shrieking 

noise that suffocates and tricks 

is inescapable. It's all he knows to feel the panic of the unknown. 

     To know is to suffer 

from an undesired fate. 

He waits. He paints his face red and hot. He has them laughing 

on the spot. 

The lights fade and what remains is 

jumbled, groggy, unsafe. 

He must create a messier space. Blue elbows and bow ties and wrought iron. He peeks through, but has forgotten why. 

He cries. Loved there but not inside. 

There one minute, falling 

off a cliff the next. His heart breaks. 

She cannot share. 

The captain is no longer strong. He will die. She fears it. He is starting to fear it too. His head's on the block, ready to be chopped. He fights, but 

his hands are tied. 

The only thing left to

do 

is give in to 

the pulsating chaos that exists 

on the underbelly of distress, hitching a ride to a paradise of stones. Hard and jagged, he's too tired to roam. 

So he moans in agony, spikes cutting through his skin. He's bleeding, but scared to let them in. 

He begins

    to lose 

control. He knows. It's happened before behind the smoke stacks of his youth, empty cupboards, broken pottery, and no where to turn. 

I'm 

addicted to you, fear. He yells. 

I 

go to you in the morning 

though you are bad for my head.  

I 

fight you off the rest of the day 

     and then it breaks 

and 

I 

can't escape 

to any place but inside 

the bottom of your cellar door. 

Your rustic, rotten cellar door -- 

  that  frightens and comforts me

(Momentarily. My head isn't straight)

yet 

I 

cannot recreate. It's a smell 

I

don't dare try to explain. 

I 

did that once and won't ever again. 

Like dust. 

I'll 

fight you. 

Until 

I 

can no longer muster the strength. 

My heart's abandoned now and can't be replaced. That's the last part of me. 

I 

was hoping it wouldn't go. 

August snow. She watches as

     her Captain

     surrenders.  

Headline Poem 8/10/14 -- Words

Words 

Words escape me,

because 

the super moon 

has swallowed 

them 

whole. 

Headline Poem 8/9/14 -- The kiss

Tonight, I read about the science of kissing and why we kiss. Interesting stuff. Here's today's poem.  

The kiss

It's better to be labeled 

unpredictable 

than unable to change, 

referred to 

as passionate 

than a crazy other name. 

Things appear as small in mirrors 

(and other places)

as you want them 

to appear. 

Ask and you will see

 what answer is 

revealed (as truth) to you and 

me. 

Should you kiss in order to believe?

Your slime and moisture 

will mix 

in a 

science of ancient beauty 

wrapped up in stars, 

an Egyptian Milky Way of crevasses and 

arms. 

You longed for water and 

depths to 

scale, measuring, 

completely unaware. 

Be aware 

of the feeling 

it creates 

to 

climb the side walls. 

Because once you 

breathe it in 

wholeheartedly, it will stare at you, 

and make you stare back. 

Headline Poem 8/8/14 -- Zip Code

Zip Code

The present moment 

is the hardest zip code 

to own. 

But if you choose 

to live

there, you will have 

the most 

spectacular views. 

Headline Poem 8/7/14 -- Tongue Tied

Eminem is in concert tonight. I'm not seeing him, but still... 

Tongue Tied

My mouth's hot 

and the music's loud. 

Words float around my forehead and eyelids and crown,

But every single syllabus is drenched, heavy and wet,

from the weight of thinking 

too damn much. By the time,

the echo's about to turn to noise,

and the wave of rhythm searches for poise 

and sense to make 

and madness to smell and 

Grace to partake

and love to expell,

and i finally plan to 

let the lyrics 

roll, I stop in my tracks, 

Xing sign down,

steel on fire on wood on ice. 

I'm tongue tied 

by my own disguise. 

Headline Poem 8/6/14 -- A Perfect Woman

Lucille Ball (Photo credit Google Image)

Today's poem is dedicated to Lucille Ball, in honor of her birthday. She was funny, successful, real, and paved the way for many funny and intelligent women. Hollywood wants us to believe there is such a thing as a perfect woman, but there isn't. This inspired me to title this poem and then simply leave it blank as a reminder. 

A Perfect Woman

Headline Poem 8/5/14 -- Supercuts

I walked over a Supercuts coupon tonight. Not a headline, but kind of news. It inspired today's poem.  :) 

Supercuts 

there's a Supercuts

on the corner of culver and vine

where the same man sits outside

the window 

looking in. 

every night. 

he has dirty nails and 

no hair. 

he wears a shirt that says,

'no escape paves the way,' 

and claims his birthday 

happens every month 

because he's just that lucky. 

Headline Poem 8/4/14 -- my first fear

my first fear

we were vulnerable that summer after my mom's surgery and before she married no name. 

houses of yellow too close to freeway walls were targets 

of the walk-in killer 

(that's what he was called 

by the brunette news lady 

and her side kick who looked like jackie chan).

i hid under my bed, my brother safely tucked under one arm, 

my mom holding one crutch, 

me half sleeping with the other 

under my second arm. 

i was not about to fall asleep while that man wandered 

and roamed 

hurting ladies and cutting them up,

so i stayed awake 

until they both fell asleep, 

and then when i couldn't fight it any longer, i controlled my dreams,

telling myself what to 

think about

before 

letting them in to twist my insides

and scatter my nerves. 

i wonder if that's what's happening now,

this fear 

of the rattle and 

the breaking of dawn.  

my house was the color of wood, 

a few steps in the front where 

my first dog was buried and our 

cat who was hit by a car, 

our only protection from the 

threatening war. 

after he was caught, he still haunted

my steps. 

i tried to forget 

and then

we moved away 

and i was able to remember other things

and play, 

until another bad guy

took his pace. 

Headline Poem 8/3/14 -- because

because 

i love you 

because 

when i walk along 

a steep cliff after a

cup of wine,

you hold my hand

and laugh 

only when 

i'm safely home. 

Headline Poem 8/2/14 -- Between Clouds

Between Clouds

Orange syrup and blueberry sky,

colors collide between 

clouds

into patterns that burst 

and repeat until

they descend

down. 

I smile a long smile, 

we are safely home 

with our arms 

wrapped around our 

turquoise, 

citrine, carnelian, 

and moonstone. 

Headline Poem 8/1/14 -- Rain

Rain 

I did not pray for rain. 

I prayed that if it came my way I would smile rather than stray. 

I'll dance. 

I'll not leave. 

I'll not retreat 

to   a   place 

that appears dryer and quieter and has more heat. 

I'll stay. 

I'll wait. 

Subtle at first, like an onlooker pretending not to stare,

I felt it. I smiled in its face 

because although I wasn't

looking,

I began.  I embraced. 

Refreshing, yet a bit more uncomfortable than I'm 

comfortable with, I spoke

to the drops. 

  You think I need you? 

  You think you're what I want? 

Yes,

     was the response. 

A strong and incredible yes. 

You're what I want. 

You're what I need. 

More rain fell. 

And then...

I took your hand while it poured,

and

we made out in

the car, our

windows steaming 

from wisdom 

and 

dripping wet with 

experienced breath.