Thursday, March 12, 2015

The time in Greece, in case you wanted to know that.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Not ETS Approved Or Otherwise High Scoring Prose

I sit with my fingers on the keyboard, pensive and stuck, frozen by the photos sliding by on the laptop screen. These are the images I’ve captured over the last several months, either by camera on my phone or maybe a screen capture. They span years, actually, and re-tell the story of my life in a disjointed timeline, occasionally not referencing me at all. Maybe they are just ideas I had, or a friend had. Or an element of society at the time. Something that whizzed by. A beautiful woman. A bear.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Monday, October 20, 2014

Too Late, Too Long

My eyes are tired and always closing
If I sit still long enough, I will fall asleep
For me, this means I am old

My neck hurts, my knees hurt
For me, this means I am old

When I sit still long enough and think about
the ones I've loved,
what it feels like to lie in bed on a lazy afternoon
with sunlight streaming through the windows
setting dust mites to sparkle
and time stands still as you
hold hands
touch noses
gaze into the eyes of one you love

how long has it been?

I have had that. More than once I have had a
blissful moment of
crazy love
And More Than Once
I have appreciated the hell outta that moment

I have

I didn't let it go to waste.

Friday, December 28, 2012

obstinate

the muscles under my scalp are stretched too thin
they crisp and buckle when I turn my head
the sun sneaks inside my closed eyelids
miami blue shocks of electricity dance across
the field of vision of a closed eye
I turn, strain my neck and push against the world

I stand, short but firm
and stand against the world

a prayer for the skeptical

blessings
to be grateful, from your core

to wish for peace
peace in your ears, peace in your home
peace in your bones

stretching out to search for
this is the blessing of grace
to seek out to reach for
in this way I thank

delicate bits of language
guttural vowel boggles the mind

how then to praise
alleluyah, they will shout
getting it all wrong
hallel is the song of praise
that's what they say
they've said
for centuries
this is the way it's been.
It is glorious, if not dusty
It is heartfelt, if just a little wrong

getting it right is impossible
so many ways to do it wrong
my God
I try, then I tire of trying
 I am tired
but I believe that morning still will come

there will be a day, when I miss that sunrise
and I know that day is no where near

I can't carry them all over, every day
some I let slip away
some I reget the slipping
some I calculate it up and reckon it right
sometimes I wonder what I could've done different
could've done to get it right
then I remember
right is impossible, really

either you bounce back, or you don't
you might lay there for a while
not bouncing.
then a spring appears
like the magic of Miriam
Magic.
Because we have no idea.
Beautiful magic.
Thank you, source of beautiful magic,
of times that seem to work out just right
of moments of incredible beauty
Thank you.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

candice christine

usury capricious
flourishing fighting
caps and stock, fraught with naught
captain cattle, head steer
all glory, no balls

structured strained yet cemented with
centuries of dust
mites molden into thy veins
Would you prune an afflicected finger,
or sever a weakened limb?
or would you care to heal heal
strive against what is surely a sisyphian system

your struggle cuts orange stripes across my shoulders
your sugar fairies dance lightly on my tongue
but the fire of your wrath stings still

I am the ogre
come to tame the tamed
uncover their writhing and say:
you could cut this off.
You could sever yourself from this cancer
or you could try to heal it and infect yourself in the process
I am the hammer, come with force and brutish foul