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Archive for September, 2008

Thoughts

Posted in Life, Lines, tagged , , , on September 29, 2008 | Leave a Comment »

Poetry is a continuum, the old words feed the new.
I intended to give myself freedom to write about the past, but instead find myself finally feeling free to write about the present and the future . . .
I don’t know what the best choice is . . . so I’m not going to make one [...]

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Winner.

Posted in Life, Poetry, tagged , , on September 25, 2008 | 1 Comment »

I don’t smoke cigarettes
which takes away from my artistic appeal
what is it about the faces of girls who gossip well?
and I’d rather shoot whiskey than drink a cosmo
whiskey is romantic
but not without a cigarette
i suppose
validated, actualized, beautiful exterior
eyeliner applied with deadly accuracy
lies wired together with truths
i always win
cigarette or no

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Onto Something? (Edited)

Posted in Life, tagged , , , , , , on September 22, 2008 | Leave a Comment »

It wasn’t much–
our effect on one another.
I’m losing touch
and letting go of old ideas
Watching silent lightning
bounce between clouds
reminded of a time
I thought my words were electric
and the slow realization
that my words were nothing
just a flash in the sky, on the screen
no heat
never touching down
or changing the landscape.
I have this funny feeling
that its all the same
as [...]

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Old Love

Posted in Life, Poetry, tagged , , , on September 16, 2008 | 1 Comment »

They have what everyone hopes for
in love
She called him Jimmy Boy or Old Boy
and he insisted that I call her Lou
“because that’s what she likes to go by”
and when I told her I loved her attitude towards life and pain
he jumped in to say that she’s always been that way.
She’s 86
He’s 92
and even though their [...]

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It was like . . . actually

Posted in Life, Poetry, tagged , , on September 14, 2008 | 2 Comments »

it was like blinking-
it was like standing outside in a lightning storm-
it was like falling down on your back when you were little, so hard you couldn’t breathe
but it was actually hot coffee on my arm
it was actually his fingers biting into my skin and flinging me into the wall, so hard I couldn’t breathe [...]

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beating

Posted in Poetry, tagged , , on September 10, 2008 | Leave a Comment »

the poem won’t write itself this morning
I am pushing and pulling words and structures–
reluctant sentences,
[...]

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My Place

Posted in Life, Poetry, tagged , , , on September 4, 2008 | 1 Comment »

I am not his high school girlfriend anymore
chubby cheeks, chubby thighs
plenty of hair to hide behind
and insecure fingers tucked inside sleeves

I am not his ex anymore
[...]

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