Reminders

reminders,
holes left in the wall

twelve, the cork board that held your tools
two, the door knob breaking through the cream paint

these walls remember what we made
love, a hurricane, a mess

the sounds of separation
growth of new islands

would these walls say anything at all
about the wrath of wild hearts

the calm of a flooded river
the change in the undercurrent

flood marks and growth charts,
reminders

wild feathers

I've been crying for your clipped wings
while my wild feathers
lie scattered round the floor.

How could I hurt them more?

What if i take you there
and you don't come back?
What if falling feels like flying?

I've made the scenery so appealing.

What if i
am the greatest actor alive,
repeating lines?

"I want to be alive with you I want to"

Speak so clever and heavy,
i've got a silver tongue
and a mouth full of fool's gold.

My preening never gets old.

Its a beautiful bird of paradise plot
to pull you in and push you out,
fly away and fly back again

fall somewhere between famished and drowned in.

How else can i say,
i don't want my demons,
it's hard for me to leave them

or i want to keep them.

These ruffled feathers
take a while to settle in
this wild heart may take forever

to let you in

found god

found god

on The Farm
nearing death behind the bars

found god

in Gentilly
side of a stucco nest
on Warrington Drive

found god

in the flood marks
with Desmond and them
at Mount Olivet Mausoleum

found god

laminated
in Scott's obituary on a hot street
in St. Roch

found god
outside the corner store
speaking foreign tongues
bloody on a bicycle

found god
inside a freezer
with a whole dead fish

found god
among the maggots
when there was nothing else to find

found god
in the previous tenant's bedroom
thesaurus
synonym for hope

love in the time of borderline personality disorder

how to cradle a volcano
how to dance in the rain
how to hold the hand of your lover
as you watch her change

how to pick up glass
from  in between the cracks
of your dresser drawers

how to run loose in the street
how to put your pup to sleep
how to set your wild heart free
go and come back again

how to tame a feral horse
break it's spirit
with a spitting rage

how to clear the path of a tornado
how to swim from a sinking ship
how to kill a deer tick
carrying the weight of your lover's disease

don't

don't sow my seeds
don't eat my meat
don't plow my fields
don't plant my feet

don't poke your arm
don't gnaw those teeth
don't cut your thigh
don't bruise my cheek

don't come inside
don't close the door
don't keep it all
don't ask for more

Shedding.

37 weeks have passed
my finger tips are colored rich lilac
dyed and died again
i've stopped painting the walls
let the stains set in

its winter now
i've been hiding out
shedding my summer skin

i've survived the plagues
of this year i am
sleeping better
pruned again

just when i thought i was living i was dying
just when i thought i was okay
i was happy
just when i wasn't paying attention
something changed and changed back again

i am traveling new roads
trails i have made myself
the seeds I planted long forgotten
are blooming now

the scenery is beautiful

Harvest and Reap

Sometimes love leaves, walks out the door and does not look back.  Love does not need your permission.  Love simply fills the open spaces it finds safe and warm.

Love may slam the door and leave a hollow where it once rejoiced.  Love may sneak back in through the window.  Love may be hiding.

Love may throw you a surprise party.   Sometimes love takes a new face.  It may be that your old love has returned with the gift of new love.

Love may take vacation. Sometimes love swims deep out to sea. Love may flood you unexpectedly.

Love may not wait until you are ready. Love may take up and leave without you. Love may send you postcards.

The Hunt

Our skin the smell of something starving,
like hungry hounds we hunt
the secrets in our bones, excavated.
Pilgrims of the spine, we
search, sharp and dirty nails,
sink teeth into dead-end
nerves and obsolete words.
Obsesses, we retrace our steps,
revisit cracks, we trespass.
Migrating across vertebrae,
dragging trails over places we've claimed to be,
avowing sovereignty.
Digging trenches in the cavities, hollow spaces,
tiring to find the disembodied places
we may have left ourselves.

the subtleties of love and mania

Who decided to let the dog run loose in the street
and who decides to put the dog to sleep?

Breaking and Mending (Did you?)

When did you visit the meadow,
to watch the wild foals
as they learned to stand alone?

Were you ashamed of their faltering,
red faced with furrowed brows?
Did you spite the bloody hocks that could not hold you,
the wild hearts that did not want to?

Who took you there before,
and when did you take it upon yourself to break them?

When the chore too burdensome,
and the feral love unattainable-
when your hands too heavy,
and the untamed ones undesirable-
did you ride the weakest one?

Did it lick your feet
and fumble in its own,
as you led it elsewhere,
to cut the muscles that it grew for you?

Did you think the buttercups were beautiful
and frolic in the flowers with understanding?

Were there songs of heavy breathing,
as you looked at your broken ankle,
in the dense blue grass?

Did you turn back to discover only yellow-
conscious of breaking and mending-
or did you keep your head fixed steady to your feet?

Did you both know
the crippling feeling,
of love being put out to pasture,
and learning to be wild again?