sunrise

The sky is pink,
fading to blue as the slowly rising sun
illuminates winter clouds that hang,
stationary over the city.

Slow jazz floats through the air,
hanging with a smooth viscosity
that reminds me, oddly, of you.

You, drunk, slow,
sitting with your legs swung over the arms of that
awful
arm chair,
your silly smile slowly stretching into a smirk that would make the Cheshire
proud
as I tip the whiskey bottle again
and take a long drink.

And we stayed like that,
sipping whiskey straight from the bottle,
watching the sky change until the dark was gone
and I could sleep.

"Sometimes its as if the heart is torn from the chest"

the heart swells
it bursts
it bleeds


until the blood is gone


and still 


it aches
it needs


until 
all that remains is darkness
abyss, void-- that escapes definition


where once you were, smiling, warm, 
where once you were, real, whole


where once skin 
would flush and lungs would 
gasp and lips would 
tremble at touch, no, thought--


the memory does not fade,
drifting away with time as some, ignorant of love, suggest
the pain does not dull into a slow constant throb, 
no, 
it is a constant stream of electricity that surges 
-with even the most minor of mental whisperings- 
of your presence. 


and yet
each day comes
again, with the sun
and goes, 
again, in the dark


and the sirens sound, 
loud 
racing off to another's pain


and the world- 


oh the world didn't stop just for us, no, 
only my world.


and each day brings the swelling, the bursting and bleeding and the constant electrifying
and each night, too, a new surge, stronger than each preceding, 
because this mind will not permit
will not permit the memory to fade.
no. 


because every moment of love, 
every flush 
and gasp 
and moment 
where trembling hands reached out to find you in the dark


was worth this lifetime of struggle 
to balance survival against the truth of losing you. 

(Laws of Nature)

Somehow in the dark

when sleep fails

thoughts drift through the night

on autopilot.

And there you are. 

Standing in the sunshine

that breaks through the green

smiling, in the forest

at me. 

I

-- who in true form,

mud streaked face and mussed hair

look up at you,

with the deadly intoxicating scent of cyanide,

(Amaretto)

floating up  from cupped  hands

hands in which I offer you

just one of the secrets of the forest

I so love. 

And then you’re gone.

Whipped away by the sounds of the city, sleeping—

sirens pealing through the night

A reminder of the spontaneous nature of chaos.

Chaos, through which all things are formed, destroyed, reformed. 

Order only returned with energy, work- manifested in countless ways.

Sleep comes as the mind, assured that these laws of nature hold true

releases the last image of you--

smiling, in the forest

at me.

memory.

viscous days without purpose
consume the person she once was.


sometimes its as if the heart is torn from the chest.

when looking into those eyes
and seeing myself reflected back so clearly.

my heart skips a beat when I turn to see your smile.

my smile in return, involuntary.

I love so freely.
So openly, I'm sure you see it.
Everyone else does.

You're so hard to read, though.

He takes my hand and holds it in the dark,

and smiles softly at the tear that comes, each time

memory of the love we never got to keep.

viscous days without purpose.

end.

waking

i watch
the fog roll off the lake
and over the city until i am
surrounded by its thick, cold dampness
before i step into the unknown.

the darkness of winter
mornings, chill, early,
before the city awakes

allows for meditation.

i find myself--in the darkness of winter mornings.

Elisesofia’s Vengence

love escapes from her veins 

warm and flowing as her face pales in the darkness.  

her breath shallow she gives her life to regain his.

he lies unknowing in the dark.  

body wrought with scars.  

he screamed for days 

and just as his voice ran out she gave him breath again.

he. 

     wakes. 

                slowly. 

                            rising. 

                                      breath.  

                                                 stolen. 

by the sight of her, 

limp and cold now before him, his child in her arms.  

The Gods tremble at his rage 

and his purpose is realized 

as he cradles the infant she gave him.  

remnant of Love

dim light illuminates her,

standing naked once more, proud.

shivering as cool air

passes over pale skin

that now swells to reveal new growth

the last remnant of Love.

she shakes away the single tear and stands, strong.

to walks back into the deep comfort of the forest.

rain falls quietly in the night, again

and she runs, wildly in the dark

carrying the child born to destiny,

with spite following just behind

crossing through the waters
she hands the child to the trees
and turns, facing spite

from the trees emerge the few
who still believe in Love's remnant,

and without a word they stand to fight.

I'm thinking about writing a book. . . about my childhood

Beginnings

I am the daughter of a lawyer and a teacher. If anything, that's where I can begin.

Daddy grew up somewhere between his father's deep Baptist Tennessee farmland and his mother's inner city Cleveland, Ohio. His life, from what bits I've come by, was never easy. Mama was from Cleveland too-- the eleventh child of a poor Catholic family that had their beliefs, if nothing else. Her family lived in the apartment above her Grandfather's grocery store.

They first met in Cleveland. She was eight, he was nine, and he had sic'd his dog on her. Later on they shared the same circle of friends, and though I'm not sure the version I've heard is entirely true, they ended up together in the end regardless.

I came along as the first lovechild of theirs, added to their shared brood of one son and one daughter. I was the law school baby. And when I came on a sunny June day they took me home, set me on the picnic table in the back yard and wondered what to do next. While they were pondering away, I had plans brewing. By the time I was one year old I had earned myself a reputation-- I would only sleep outside in the cool night air and I would eat anything I could get my hands on.

A year later I was joined by my younger sister, Krista. I let her know who was boss the very first day, sinking my three or four new teeth into her newborn arm. The competition has never ended. Kyle arrived, after much anticipation, in the fourth year of my life. They are now the most important people in my life

Summer
I recall lazy summer afternoons lying in the grass, watching the sky change from blue to pink to a darker blue and waiting for the lightning bugs to come out. Sometimes, just as it was getting to be time for bed a summer thunderstorm would roll in over the horizon and we would sit, the five of us, on the front porch and watch it coming. Counting the seconds between the loud thunderclap and the distant flash of lightning, calm and happy.

Vinegar and Honey

Life wasn't always sweet at home. Sometimes we would fight for weeks, but not without reason, without cause. There was no arguing simply for argument's sake. And in the end, the one message that I've learned is that we must love each other, before ourselves. Selfishness, spite, are the most basic forms of abuse. In the moments when we do not think of others, we can only be thinking of ourselves.

safekeeping.

in the deep black night she wakes, afraid, 

calls your name to know you're safe 

and realizes that behind the dreams 

she knew that you would be there, too. 

in the deep black night, where demons dwell

she grasps your hand and conquers hell

then fills her heart with all her love,

hands it to you with silver gloves 

for safekeeping.  

asylum

these dreams these dreams

that wake me in a cold sweat in darkness

these dreams these dreams

that leave me shaking alone in darkness

these dreams these dreams

that find me screaming out in darkness

are endless.

where does the soul find this torture?

when does the soul find peace?

how does the soul keep going

when its followed by these dreams these dreams?

for love's sake man,

can't you see I'm being eaten alive here? eaten alive.

for love's sake man,

can't you see I'm terrified here? terrified?

for love's sake man,

don't leave me alone now, don't leave me alone.

and that man in the corner, he's not really there

I know, man, I KNOW, but still, he stares and stares

and that girl in the bath, oh I know she's not real,

but she'll still tell me how worthless she feels

stay here awhile, please, so I can get some sleep,

stay here awhile, please, so I can get some peace

and when I wake up I'll see you here and know that

I'm ok, man, I'm ok.

cause you granted me asylum- for a few hours today.