Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Follow me down

She followed me
into my room,

that shadow of
doubt, an evil

Peter Pan with
whom I wrestled

to lose. I did
not want this one

stitched to my foot,
an ankle weight

bringing me down.

PAD #26 -- follower

In bloom

The lavendar blooms on
the tree in my yard
know the secret of life.

They have fought, just
as we do, for their place
in the sun and grown
into their magnificence.

Before birth, in the cold
of winter, they wait, ready
to burst forth, with full
faith in themselves and
the world around them.

PAD #27 -- in the (blank) of (blank)

Friday, April 22, 2011

Please recycle

Dear you,

We were destined to meet this way.
Randomness is sometimes the vehicle of fate.
I was told to tell you that it will get better. I promise.

Until then, laugh louder, live harder,
and love softer. Give freely and be gentle with yourself.
You're as fragile as this glass bottle. But just as strong too.

PAD #20 -- message in a bottle

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Think again

We shared a bed and
a life together.
But you had second thoughts.

PAD #21 - second thoughts

Monday, April 18, 2011


In the end
the trails of crumbs or
tears or what
ever it is
that we leave behind us is
really what matters

PAD #16 - big picture/shadorma

Bathing beauties

The faded photo
in Mother's hallway
reminds me of you.
Our bellies are full and
our cheeks are round
(we were unembarassed
by this back then) and we
laugh in the sun-filled
summer of youth.

PAD #16 - snapshot

Grandma swore

Grandma swore a whole lot.
Mom and Dad did not.
She smoked and cussed and
the Little Me feared her
fierce, loud love.

She would offer them a drink.
And the ice would clink
as she recanted the faces and
places she'd loved
so fearlessly.

PAD #15 - profile

In the mirror

It's so much simpler to
see ourselves in
others' eyes than our own.

PAD #15 - profile poem

In between

Between your legs
Between the sheets
Between you and
your girlboygod

PAD #14 - "ain't none of my business" poem

Sunday, April 17, 2011

My Bonnie lies

I napped next to you
when I was young
and again when I was
grown, nestled next

to the withered woman
who once changed
my diapers and
chastized my bad

manners. Your breath
was soft and smooth
then. The years of
smoke had settled

into your cough but
not your dreams,
unlike the mask that
buried your frail face

when I slept next to
you one last time
and held your hand
as you slipped away.

~ to Grandma Bonnie

PAD #13 - remembering an old relationship

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Sunday mass

Form a line to the left, please.
Your bellies will be full soon,
if you'd just leave the sacks and
bags, the lives you carry with you
like a shell, at the side of the room.
Please just eat and smile this hour
without that weight on your shoulders.

Dedicated to the homeless men and women who've fed my soul more than I've probably fed theirs.

PAD #12: form poem

Maybe chapstick

Maybe I'd know what your
lips tasted like
if I'd stuck around longer

Maybe I'd have noticed the
way you licked
your lips as you stared

Maybe I'd have seen you
pull out your
chapstick and look away soothed

PAD #11: Maybe (blank)

Where to?

Where have you come from,
young man? Weren't
you the boy whose curls

I stroked and forehead I
kissed, not so
long ago, after a nightmare.

Where have you gone, young
man? Running so
quickly into the world's bosom,

that temptress who will never
love you, my
little one, as I have.

PAD #10 - never again

Monday, April 11, 2011

6 o'clock

Papa clocked out at 6 p.m.
His inky fingerprints
were all he left behind.

He walked in at 6:14.
His meaty, grease-
stained fingers stroked our faces

and left the indelible stain
of fatherly love
on our faces and hearts.

PAD #9: time of day

A little harder

We pat ourselves on the back
for listening to the inner voice
that told us to love a little harder.
And we should.

PAD #8: celebration poem

Thursday, April 7, 2011

The ups and downs

What if we kept
smiling until the
sun went down?

And what if we slept
smiling until the
sun came up?

Those are the ups
and downs, my dear,
that really matter.

PAD #7 - "what if" poem

Don't dawdle

If I could kick off my shoes
and run through a grassy field
full of butterflies and daisies
and dandelions; if I could fly
toward the distant shores of
some tropical paradise and
feel the gentle breeze lap
like waves beneath my wings;
if I could see the smile on my
children's children's faces; I
wouldn't waste another minute
dawdling in this humdrum
moment, but turn my face to the
wind and know that it is already so.

PAD #6 -- don't (blank), (blank)

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Slap happy

I knew I would kiss you
when the goofy grin on
my face stayed there for
three days after we met.

I knew I would love you
when the goofy grin on
yours was still there
three months later.

PAD #5 - goofy

entirely her

inspired by: "i can entirely her only love . . . " e. e. cummings

she was the girl
who sung with angels
and birds, in cars
and in showers and
in public fountains.

she splashed through
life like a shooting star
across the night sky,
twirling chaos around her
finger like a tendril of hair.

PAD #4 - him or her

Open heart surgery

If I'd never walked into the room
we now share, you wouldn't have that bruise
on your shin, from when you tripped over my foot
and bumped into the bed.

If I'd never walked into the life
we now share, you wouldn't have cried your eyes out
at the movie last week, because you were too much of a man
to do something like that before we met.

If I'd never walked out of the love
we once shared, you wouldn't have leapt
from the balcony to stop me from going. But your heart
would have died anyway.

PAD #3 - imagine a world without you

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Wish you were here

I thought about you
as I journeyed
and carried your smile
to the corners
of my world.

Hello again

I took a different road,
and a different
method of transportation all together

but here I am again,
dirty and disappointed
from hitchhiking down love's highway.

April PAD #2 - a postcard poem

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Which way

I am not sure which
way I took
when the roads diverged

so long ago. They
split apart
and I just kept walking.

April PAD #1

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