Monday, July 28, 2008

ode to the matrix

you gave me freedom
you gave me adventure
you gave me independence
you gave me a bed
you gave me comfort
you gave me tissues
you gave me miles of reflection
you gave me laughs
you gave me fights
you gave me a place to cry
and a place to melt down
you gave me protection when i couldn't face outside
you gave music and a place to sing my heart out
i look at you from a porch being drenched in a new jersey downpour and i think that you and i have had a fair ride together
65,000 miles, three journeys across the country and countless road trips to places you were not meant to go
its been good, my friend
how i will miss thee.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

the power of hot chocolate

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" he whispers to my forehead
and i smile a smile that comes from my core
he knows the answer
"water or milk?"
"I don't care," i throw my arms around him, "no, milk!"
he pulls me from that hole i throw myself down into when i am feeling everything like the infuriating pricks of needles on flesh and yet it takes me three days to name what the hell is going on
i wish i had a name for him that encompassed it all
but for now, "handsome" and "bruiser" will do
i wish there was a thank you that meant a thousand of them,
but for now, the old fashioned one remains.
to handsome, a thousand of them.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

romantic notions

she walks through a garden of pleasantries and smiles
looking for mine fields underneath the roses
her feet are bloody with blisters earned from hard-trekked miles
a time bomb of rage ruefully ticking while all the while she composes-
her last sonnet to the age of innocence

she wonders about the places she's been and the places in between
her current place nameless to date
with a file name as yet to be seen
and a laundry list of withering excuses to compensate-
her realization of self-compromise yet again

the idea of partnership veiled with clever euphemisms and romantic notions
always seems to disappoint when stripped bare
just two bodies on separate stages pretending to go through the motions
of what they think is an adult lovers' fare

how darling they are in the eyes of their imaginary audience
applauding their raucous performance and fraudulent fanfare
dancing in mine fields dressed as gardens
sipping tea laced with arsenic and mint.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

body language

the idea of body
imagine she, healthy
free of waves of cellulite worn like the dead weight of hardened plankton
unable to scrape off that rusty anchor

soft parts on top of hard parts, like the making of love between health and wealth
carelessness and precociosness melted into a dirty handshake
sick with the weight of image
rich in counterfeit beauty.

she wonders what it would be like to be friends with the girl in the box
to take joy in the curvacious folds of a formerly muscular body
pride in the contours of a new emerging body
forgiving of the places where she may have had too much fun.

the power of yearning to dance in this skin
wanting to embrace it with gentle caresses and loving fingertips
do away with the habits of clawing
and keep her nails short to remind of the grace in healing

the strength in sitting still in silver paint
curious to discover unchartered relaxation
the relief in acceptance over forbearance
wanting to shed the anxiety of "not good enough" like five, ten, or fifteen pounds when all she really should be is grateful.

finding freedom in brutal runs where the plain looks as endless as her satisfaction
the hotter it is. the better the punishment
in that self loathing, self gratifying kind of way
maybe she can run right out of her skin, or at least her own head for a little while.

Monday, July 14, 2008

young bucks

"i just can't see myself ever saying, 'This is home. This is where I'm going to plant my roots.' i don't know. maybe i still need to grow up."
"or maybe we're the ones that have it all figured out and everyone else has it wrong."
he nods in a greement and says something to the effect of, "i like the sound of that."
we drink beers and take in the breez after a long day and even longer weekend.
"maybe we can just not have kids and keep moving whenever we feel like it."
"that's definitely an option."
"but then i feel like we'd miss out on one of the bigger purposes in life."
"yeah...we could have one and just dram 'em along with us."
"yeah...but i think it would be unfair to not give them siblings."
and before long we are talking about the logistics of the imaginary family we may or may not have.
i feel old and young at the same time.
the conversation circles back to the eternal question we both have that has not been answered yet for either of us, though it becomes clear to me that he is okay with living in the incertainty and I am slighlty embarassed of my neverending search for certainty.
i take a moment and let the idea of accepting and living in the uncertain sink in
and for a moment I am at peace
i step into the present moment and my forhead relaxes, my eyebrows unfurrow causing my eyes to recognize just how tired they are
a young buck reemerges but this time is followed by two fawn
i wonder where the mother is
we watch a crane stand as still as can be wondering if it is fishing
it takes flight and i am in awe of where i am in time at this particular moment in my life
i wonder if i woke up everyday and first said "thank you," if my self-imposed stress would take a back seat as opposed to a passenger seat in my morning commute.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008


she owns a place in my life that no one else can replicate, replace, or refurbish
she is my picture of a lady-
with fire in her voice and grit in her smile.
she takes shit from no one, except maybe her children's in laws.
she does not confront what can not handle truth
and yet her opinions can be seen buttoned to her sleeves
she is tireless in loving the ghost of a man who left her long ago
and yet she is chastised for her excessive drinking.
she falls a lot and it worries them
but she gets back up, though less and less so.
i miss her and yet i can't find the will to reconnect in any way that feels honest or sufficient
i am a fraud
and a liar for a granddaughter
"i just don't want to go through loss"
so instead i lose all the time what is here now
i try to forget
but guilt has claws
and i can feel the teeth marks of a rabid conscious bearing down on my heart.
heavy is the heart of the fool who closes it too soon.
i am not a lady
not a lady like her and i hate the way that kills
"you take after grandma," he once said
and i remember thinking it was the nicest compliment i ever received
i feel like a liar
and i don't know how to change it.
i'm sorry
so sorry.