New Holes

We used to hold hands
laughing as we skipped
through warm summer sunsets
the light touching our hair just so
as we sucked in greedy gulps of happiness
and breathed out the innocence of our age,
written not only on our smiles
but on our red wagons
the bottoms of our mud covered shoes
the inside of our lunch boxes.
Then came a time when the sun went down
and we were forced to find our own light
as we struck different matches
searching in the dark for some fulfillment
that we had never lacked before.

Iron Tides

The seasons are changing again
first from summer to autumn
as the southern seas that we basked in
withdrew their warm waves.
And we watched wide eyed
as everything green and living
burst into flames
of crimson, umber, gold,
then smoldered into browns
and grey overcast skies.
Then the iron tides rose
with their cutting cold winds
and frigid waters coming in higher and higher.
Here we remain to endure the storm
for the months to come
and try to remember the south seas
on the nights when the damp
sinks into our bones
and the ice creeps into our blood.
We will endure
for it is all we know to do,
endure this untameable sea
and dry ourselves in the promise
that tides always change.

First Love

The day I dreaded most
ever since I learned
about the shadow of death,
has come and passed.
It is hard to believe that my eyes
will never again look into yours.
That I will never again
caress you gently,
on the softest parts.
Closing my eyes
and breathing deeply,
inhaling your familiar scent.
Feeling so safe
when I lay with you,
accepted just as I am.
You won my heart
from the moment I lay eyes on you
in the early days of my youth.
You had my most genuine affections
from the days when I did not know
to guard my heart.
We used to romp together
in that loving splendor,
we'd set out on adventures.
You were my constant companion,
always ready for some new exploit.
And we grew together,
but while I grew young
wild and free,
you grew old, steady wise.

Lion's breath

I have longed
in the very depths of my heart
to see You face to face
to let my gaze meet your beautiful eyes.
Will I even be able to stand
in the presence of Your majesty?
As I stumble towards You,
ever hesitant
my body trembling with fear and desire
You are the only thing that has ever
come near to satisfying me.
That I would reach out a shaking hand
holding my breath
as you hold my gaze
goodness radiates from you
but yet, there is a sense of danger
You could devour me in a moment
but as I do what I have longed to do
ever since I first heard of you
and press my hand in Your mane.
And everything in me is consumed by Your perfection
Like standing in the warmth of the sun
you are bathed in light--radiant.
And your heartbeat radiates within me
as my own meager heart beats in time.
This feeling, is so overwhelming
and I, I am so undeserving
as I lift my eyes to meet your gaze
you are not disappointed by my size
my weakness, my stupidity, my inadequacy
instead, with your majestic gaze locked on mine
you do the unexpected;
Pressing your nose to my forehead
you breathe on me
with the music of you breath.
All the fear, sorrow, pain, and darkness leave
there is only your light beaming from within me.
All I know in this moment,
is that I am yours, though you are not mine
you are not tame, you are free
but all I want is to belong to you
and feel your breath for eternity. 

Dead End

We sit in the car
it's in park
in the driveway
keys in the ignition.
"Where do you want to go?"
you ask again and again
and all I can say is "Away"
Where is there to go anyway?
Every direction is a cement wall
and we can slam into it
our heads smacking into airbags
metal of the car crunching
tires burning
horn screaming.
But what's the point?
It's always the same old story.

Cancer

There is a cancer in me
you say so matter-of-fact-ly
that it must be true,
no one questions it in the least
the signs are all there
I've been vomiting
and loosing weight
complaining of aches and pains
"Look," you say, "you're sick,
so sick that I need to operate,"
and so you get all the nurses ready
prep them with lies
no one would question a doctor.
You have them hold me down
forget the anesthetic you say
she needs to know how much it hurts
everyone to see her like this
And so you slit me open
with your scalpel,
as I scream "No!"
--A word I've been trying to lip all my life--
Everything is cool and calculated
as you take out my heart
it's not even where you said the cancer was
but it doesn't matter
no one will know the difference
and there is no way out
I can't fight anymore
I can't win this
no matter what I do you tell me
it's because of the cancer.
And now as I let go,
so do you and everyone leaves
my heart is in your jar
and I am bleeding here on the table
trying to stitch myself up.
I deserve it you say
it was necessary
I'm the only one who knows
you're a liar and deceiver
but you tell me it's the cancer talking
you must not have removed it all
you'll need to operate again.
I won't let you touch me
I won't let anyone touch me again.

Remise

You told me you liked to fence
and I thought I'd give you a shot
I didn't know that you were one
to so heedlessly break the rules.
So we danced, jabbed, gouged, scratched.
You've practiced so much on your own
that you think you can anticipate
my every move.
I have a few surprises up my sleeve
thinking it's all for fun.
But you didn't tell me the stakes
and you have a different game in mind:
one that ends in my demise.
So you maneuver me into a corner
I've never been one to surrender
and I won't put up my white flag.
And you'll have justice at any cost
even if your means are unjust
everything has to be even: tit for tat.
So if I've had a couple little scratches
you have the right to cut me deeper
than anyone else has.
I need to learn a lesson you say
and we both know
that you want to be the father to give it.
As you cut through my protective suit
with a couple swishes of your sword
and tear off my mask so I have to look at you.
"This is for your own good," you say,
like so many others have told me
as they rip me to shreds
and steal everything I try to keep sacred.
And my eyes and my scream say
"help me, help me, I didn't know..."
but there will be no help;
as if there ever was any.
All I ever wanted was for someone
to stand in front of me
and not let me be the sacrificial lamb
slaughtered on the table for the wrath and needs
of men who do not care for me.
Your real anger lurks with a woman
you cannot reach,
and so here I am instead to take her place
you cannot bare the least resemblance of her.
No one will come this time to protect,
and probably not the next
all I can do is disintegrate onto the floor
and wait until it's safe
to pick up these smoldering ashes
and mix them with tears
until I make cement bricks
thick enough to keep you--
and everyone else--out.  

Musical Spring

Winter is dead

 it still leaves traces 

scattered here and there

the occasional pile of stubborn snow

the frost in the morning 

but these are mere glimpses

and memories of what has passed.

And as things being to come alive

the song of life can be heard 

in the distance if you listen closely enough

He is singing everything into life again 

as we stare up at a vast blue sky

There are notes of it on the wind

warm bright notes 

that thaw our bones and hearts

until they beat together

with the chirping of the birds

and the swaying of tree boughs

fresh with buds.

The time of singing has come again

and we rejoice at the sights 

of the work of His hands.

Life radiates from Him

like a glorious tune

and who can resist this song? 

Worn Hands

Her face was wrinkled
like the worn leather
on the cover of her Bible.
With craigs formed
from frowns and smiles,
tears of pain,
sorrow, and joy.
At the end
she was like an infant again
forgetting how to breathe;
taking her naps
in the afternoon sun.
Until one day she went down
and never awoke again.
Slipped away in sleep.
One breath in this world
the next breath in the new one.
While those that remain
try to remember better days
when she smiled
and squeezed their hands
baked and laughed.
She worked with her hands
ploughing through life,
kneading dough for bread
kneading soil for flowers
kneading her own heart
until it resembled the one she loved most.
Her hands were as worn as her face
they had held babies, then children,
rough hands of men, husband and sons
and then babies, children
teenagers adults.
It was then that those worn hands
were ready to let go. 

Nith

It was the day after Christmas
when he slipped out of his house
nobody saw
nobody saw him
little boy in his boots
without cap without coat
he was only five
through the fields
no one stopped
no one saw
through the trees
he was known to wander
and so he did
he did he did
down to the river nith
and he struggled
in its icy depths
it was so cold, cold indeed
they searched and searched
oh the tragedy
little boy lost
he was only five, only five
now he's gone
they search on. 

February First

The snow is falling fast
in tiny delicate flakes
from the cold grey sky
as I settle into my desk
on a worn Saturday morning
while my frozen milk
thaws in the sink.
I have succumbed to acceptance
of winter
and of my life thus far.

Cut up

You must have thought
that I was made of lead;
thought that my skin was
thick leather,
worn by weathering storms
so much stronger
than any you could conjure.
You thought you could
dash me against the sharp
cliffs of the shore,
and I would not bleed.
You thought my armor
would protect me from
the blade of your knife
as you pushed it into my stomach.
You ought to know
that this strength is just a rouse;
I am not made of lead
or impenetrable leather;
more like wood that has been
worn away by the storms past.
I am easily cut by rocks and blades
I merely retreat to lick my wounds
in solitude.
And yet you cannot understand
why I walk with a limp,
why I wince in pain;
are you so blind?

Icy

The snow falls again
in thick clusters
of delicate flakes
elegantly painting
the limbs of trees
as I stand in
the kitchen
in the grey
afternoon light
wondering if
the warmth
will ever come back
to my breath.

Days of our Youth

It seems only yesterday
we used to hold hands
laughter and sunshine
painted on our faces
stained with juice
and fresh with innocence.
When things were simpler
we never questioned
our immortality
or if the world
was bigger than our street.
We ran together,
the wind at our backs
and rolled in the splendor
of clover and green grass.
Picked dandelions for our mothers
breathed greedy gulps
of fresh air and youth.
It seems only yesterday
and yet so far away.
As we remember how the sun went down
and we saw the first glimpses
of darkness.
It started so subtle
like a vine creeping up a building.
And we realized,
that there were cloudy days
sometimes so dark
we wondered if our eyes were even open,
as we blinked through it all
And we turn around to realize
that our home has been sold
all there is a house now.
The world seems so much bigger
as we rub our eyes at sky scrappers.
And loses its charm with insurance payments;
laundry, gasoline, failure, broken hearts.
Things will never be
what they once were
when we were innocent. 

Mistaken

What have I gotten myself into
this time.
It seems what I thought
I wanted
I needed
I couldn't survive without
is not
any of the above.

Return to Simplicity

I long for things unattainable.
I miss things that no longer exist,
places I can never return to
and expect them to be the same.
My old bed, in the corner
under the little mermaid poster.
Feeling so safe under those blankets
falling asleep with a book on my chest
the omnious yellow glow
of my old lamp on the ceiling.
I wish to speak with  friends
who are so long gone,
not dead,
just no longer the caterpillars
they once were
now a butterfly,
 and it's hard to believe
they are even remotely similar.

Lowbank

I sit here
in my home between homes
on a winter's white afternoon
in the place in between dependency and adulthood
 wishing I could  press pause.
On this moment to catch my breath.
It seems like everything happens
in the twinkling of an eye
and yet,
this life is the longest race we'll ever run.
It is hard to believe that I'll never be able
to come back here again.
I cannot help but feel loss
of something I have not yet lost.
This little apartment,
the warmest home I have known.
And my room the kindest nights
I have been allowed.
I watch the flakes drift down
and wonder where I'll be
for the first snow.

Passed

After the storm it seems too peaceful

like there is not sound any more

as if when the winds blew

and the thunder rolled

our ears became deaf

and in the cold light 

we stand there in silence--

so sterile and sharp

unable to hear the birds singing

or the wind whistling,

unable to carry on. 

Alice in Winter

Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty?
How nice and soft it sounds!
Just as if some one was kissing the window all over outside.
I wonder if the snow LOVES the trees and fields,
that it kisses them so gently?
And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt;
and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again."
And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty,
they dress themselves all in green, and dance about—whenever the wind blows—oh,
that's very pretty!' cried Alice,
dropping the ball of worsted to clap her hands.
'And I do so WISH it was true!
I'm sure the woods look sleepy in the autumn,
when the leaves are getting brown.

Lewis Carroll Through the Looking Glass

Winters Ago

The snow is falling down
in fat clusters of flakes
upon the white ground.
It covers our footprints
from where I snuck out my window
in the cold pale moonlight
and we walked together
out into the wild frontiers
of winter nights' oblivion.
It seems so long ago,
our tracks are covered now
only you and I recall
the paths we made.
Yet still, if I were to tread
on those places
where the snow was packed
from our thick boots
I may slip on the ice we created. 

Winter's Purpose

The snow has fallen again
covering everything in sheets of white,
cleansing dirty snowbanks
and concealing black ice.
Like silence smothering
hot emotions, letting them  wash away
to white noise in the background.
Maybe we just need a good sleep
to appreciate all we have.
Perhaps that's winter's purpose
to cover us
to clean us
to cool us
and to give us rest
To remind us of all we have to be thankful for
as we drift through the seasons
we learn to love spring again.

January Woes

Winter can seem so grey at times

like the apocalypse has happened

and no one even bothered to notice

somehow time marches on.

As I walk sliding on icy streets

the snow drifting down like ashes, 

the snowbanks are dirty in the city

everything seems to be a shade

except the tints of rose

in our cheeks

and our red mittens 

as we trudge on and watch our breath

float away down the boulevard.