Second Anniversary: 5/17/2010

I promise this poetry blog will not turn me into the poety laureate of my family and life, but I had to write something for my husband on our anniversary because of all we've been through. Moving to a new state and moving onto new stages in our lives has caused a disconnect in what I'd previously considered important and necessary. I had to learn many things to make life work here, but now that things are settling in, I realize that we are both better people, that our marriage is stronger now because of what we've gone through. Because of these things, it's hard to regret how things transpired to make it this way. The thing that amazes me most about my husband is how he believes in me, and I don't mean half-heartedly says he does but doesn't back it up. I mean how much he really believes in me, no matter how insane my ideas seem to the rest of the world. Steve understands me like nobody else does. I couldn't be more appreciative of this fact. To understand someone, to really understand them at their core, is to love them.

Half of me

I can be broken
Like that surrealist
Alarm clock
Stuck at 2:45
Some days I shatter
Like crystal
On the floor
Lack of confidence
Lack of direction
But you cradle
The shards that slice you
Little knives
I am constantly
Melting and reforming
Better for you
I can’t help
That half me
Will always be
Devoted to selfishness
And the pursuit of self
But the other half of me
Will always be
You

This one is for my mother. Overdue, I might add...

On The Shore

I know she was there
My mother
But I can’t see her face
In any of my memories
I remember her off-key lullaby
Her index finger
Coaxing my eyelids closed
At naptime

I know she was there
I’ll never forget her telling me
We’d move to Massachusetts
Just the two of us
And drive a Mazda Miata
And when she’d go away
She always came back
With stuffed animal souvenirs

I know she was there
She always has been
The string holding the shards of my life
When everything, everyone else fails
Disappoints, wounds, or deserts
The island that is my mind
She’s waiting like she’s always waited
Quietly on the shore

New blog.: Cinco de Mayo

This poem was written late at night on the night that one might consider the Mexican holiday of Cinco de Mayo. It's about not celebrating. Enjoy.

Cinco de Mayo
I'm alone and sober
And old like a rocking chair
Creaking at the joints
And waiting for something

People are happy somewhere
Happily dancing
With happy strangers
Happily sleeping
Tight in their happy beds

But it's 1:19
Now Seis de Mayo
And here I sit
Thinking of thoughtlessness
Dreaming of dreamless sleep
And wanting to fall asleep
Under water

Day 24: Write an evening poem

Well, I know I'm behind and all that, and really there's only one more day left of this month, but I will see this challenge out to the bitter end.. and then beyond. No, I won't be writing daily poems after this challenge, but honestly, I haven't written daily poems DURING this challenge either. ;) So here's my evening poem. Enjoy.

04/24/2010: Evening poem

Evening Swim

We peel our clothing off
All but the summer skins
My arms wrap around me
In the stillness of twilight
At the pool that’s closed
‘Til June

We drift into the cold water
Like a hesitant baptism
No smiles of approval
And in the end there’s no amen
Nothing lingers there
Except regret

I venture underwater
Lost from sight and sound
A nebulous existence
But I can feel your desire
Thick like panes of glass
Between us

This evening swim could last
Forever or more if we let it
But just like when summer ends
The cold sinks down to remind us
And so we part our ways
In languid silence

Day 23: a truly inspired haiku

This poem couldn't be any truer. I know it's just a haiku, but that's all I had the energy to do. You'll forgive me. It's your job.


04/23/2010: Write an exhaustion poem

Snooze

Five in the morning
My fingers grope for the snooze
But instead I wake