Wednesday, August 24, 2005

the author

i’m in such a mad rush to read your book that i can’t swallow
the words fast enough and i trip over myself falling
headlong into your pages stumbling
over words, reading, rereading, reveling
in the voyeuristic charm of your voice
as it tells tales of extraordinary love
etched on the faces of ordinary people
while I race towards the conclusion
and you.

a momentary lapse

how could you have made me forget
the possibilities of a night-sky fading into dawn
the tug of kite string in the stiff morning breeze
the wonder of a touch-me-not furling in tight
the miracle of a morning through a child’s eyes

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

on the subject of me

a friend from yesterday met you last night
and told you of me, how I used to be
a random collection of grasshoppers’ knees
and too much caffeine
you laughed politely and said, yes – isn’t she?

Monday, August 22, 2005

Change

if you were ever to find me
once I have gone away
don’t turn around or hope
to recognize me for I
will not remain the same

Sunday, August 21, 2005

first day in galle

white cotton sheets
still cool in the morning sun
that comes slanting in the door
as tiny footsteps clamber
into my bed and tiny arms
embrace my sleepy self

____________________

i want to live in this town
which is kind to strays
and is also kind to me
and holds out its arms
to all those set adrift
from homelands across the sea

try me

i want to put all the important bits,
the ones that make up me,
into a food processor, cuisinart,
or something of the sort,
mix, it and bottle it,
even label it perhaps,
and casually take to
carrying it on my hip
maybe one day you could try it
and then tell me what you think

late night radio

a song my first love sang to me
plays on the radio as I grieve
the loss of you, my last
and I am moved by the universe
which has deemed me fit to love
more than just once in a lifetime

no words

what to say to you – i have no words
to describe the sadness that had devoured me
to indicate the depths to which I fell
how to tell you, my love,
of how hard it has been being barefoot
in this valley of embers with its hills of flame

Thursday, August 18, 2005

approach

i saw you once but only from the right
it haunted me a while at nights
i needed just another view, the same
experience but felt anew
i will fly over hill and dale again
return from the land I call home
walk right by and you won’t even notice
that I have captured your other side

someday

write me a letter, tell me the story
someday. down the road.
of why you felt it right
why you thought it proper
to wash away all that was
traces of me

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

pick up, move on

I always knew I’d be the one
to hold the memory,
and so I set you free.
I’ll be the keeper
for this lot of sorrow
and that bit of despair
and you can continue on -
for only one is really required
for this task. I know
I’ll buckle under
the weight of that pain
– the heartache,
but you should rest
assured at night sweet love
that I’ll bear my load well.

__________________________________________

It’s time to pack up the scars
And pick up the shards
Of my red, red heart
It’s time to pack up old sins
Place them in old jam jars
And seal them tight in
And you know - it’s time to pack up your face
To give it time to erase
From a soul hard pressed
To letting you go.

Monday, August 15, 2005

prayer

we sit on the shore
shoulder to shoulder
where palms come together
and bow low in homage.
absent, we sift the sand
thinking of distance
and the souls of the dead.
there is grit beneath my nails
silence and salt spray
burns your open wounds.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

shadow play

i took a great big knife
shiny and serrated
and sliced off my shadow
my feet from his
he's been unfaithful
and i have reason to believe
he flies from me at night
to rest by your side

being helen

even little girls
in the pimply blush
of an awkward youth
and stately matrons
gliding like battleships
over ornate carpets
can be seized up
by a Trojan at any time
to be recast as Helen
beautiful forever
if but for a moment

Friday, August 05, 2005

shoelaces

it’s 8 am and I haven’t slept
for thinking about shoelaces
and how sad I feel when I see yours untied
wearily tempting fate to trip you up again.

69 Pedlar Street

let me show you
how you never grow old
i can hold back the ocean
and time too, if you need
let me be
the sanctuary for your soul
i can wake you in the mornings
with kisses and tea