make love not thought patternsi. we spoke of stars.make love not thought patterns4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your back- its freckles- a
rough map of aries, of
orion in his modest belt.
traceable with textbooks and a
ii. it occurs to me that i
need to remember to be
the things i think and say. i
need to remember to be some kind of
outrageous so that i
know when my roots
reach the centre of the earth.
iii. outside a
cicada wriggles mightily out of its
too-small shell, and it is
terrified at so much newness,.
no telling what it is
incredulityi amincredulity4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
taking myself on a
picnic today. i have
packed a sandwich and
a thermos of spiced coffee and
cold pasta. i have brought a
folded-up blanket and music.
i am going to the centre of a
large field of grass, with
wheat stalks in one corner, and
i am wearing one of my
very best sweaters.
i will invite you, perhaps, if i
think that you'll want to come, and
if i think that you'll understand the
importance of being invited
on a private sort of picnic.
collapsed with a halo of dark hair
sprayed around me. the
afternoon tastes like copper,
feels like feathers and cotton.
there is tea on my lips and i am
debating calling you, asking you
to come and meet me here. i
think perhaps i can trust you with
important secrets like how i will
listen to the same song over and over
again until i feel ill with it, and then i will
listen to it once more.
already climbing into the car when i
send you a message, you have
packed a bag with cheese and cr
the firing of CEOsit is said that self deceptionthe firing of CEOs4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
means much stressful mental rust.
large leaders self deceive the most -
subconscious chars their inner toast.
someday they must
consider the heat
from calories burned -
first to ashes,
then to dust.
so, as their minds incinerate,
their children's children know them not,
except as driven men of fate -
distracted lives; their lies are hot.
there is no bird of Phoenix arising
from their ashes - not surprising.
llp - sep2010 - dA
Sugar Gluethe floor in the hall makes noiseSugar Glue4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
underfoot, and the noise is like ghosts
and other unseen things. it is the
sort of noise that will
sound like music sometimes and be like
a siren and draw her into the corridor
looking bewildered and afraid.
when this happens, he will lead her back
and lie her down and
hold her face between his hands.
in the space between his lips, she finds
room to contort and deposit herself.
at night, her world is a cotton knot of
she has always been fond of teeth, the sort
that glitter when they're spread thin.
his remind her of mouthwash commercials
and orthodontists; she keeps one
in each of her pockets,
to rub when she gets nervous.
she's some sort of anxious rightright now,
and she's trying to read the
few lines on his unusually smooth face
to see if he has any clue.
she wishes him an interpreter of dreams,
a dog-eared book of horoscopes who might
tread the shallow trenches of her palms and tell her
when she will die.
at best, he is a newsp
instantly my cells come alivethis is one of theinstantly my cells come alive4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
very best days of my life.
it is raining a little
and the sky makes everything grey
and the leaves are
half-changed. there are pumpkins in
we are drinking coffee and it is
early-morning. i am
dressed warmly and the music in
the car is loud. it is a very good song.
one of my favourites, even.
the scarf i am wearing is
new, from you, and it is soft. i think it
is a very good scarf that makes me seem
we are going to drive north
towards ghost towns and snow. i will
sing along to every song on the radio
and read parts of books that i
think you will like. we will disappear
long into winter.
emancipating change"emancipating change"emancipating change5 years ago in Open More Like This
how clear our thoughts
may seem at that moment,
on the verge
yet when we alight hours later,
most twilit ideas have
but - "dreams follow creation"
so we may,
that dreaming light.
sleep is used
for more than rest.
thus, my friend,
you are right.
llp - jan'10 - dA
Lighthouse RailingI am more a storyteller and less a narrator.Lighthouse Railing4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Unfolding the map of you, I spread it across my floorboards.
The polaroid corners are worn and no longer sharp.
Its colors have faded and bled to the borders.
What is an edge, but an entrance to somewhere we'd rather be.
I'm tracing our backroad route,
Remembering the speed limit I gave you to break.
My thumb falters around each curve.
Post card worthy pictures flash-flood my memory.
Regret seeps in through my fingertips.
I hear it fluttering in my tendons.
You're watching me and you know I know that.
Happiness is a place between You and Then and I can't get there from here.