Wednesday, April 29, 2009

POEM: turn the page

I can't stand this
I don't want to be the brave
cancer woman
fighting for her life
a one-breasted warrior
battling on
for the sake of her children

I want my old life back
the simple little one
that I should have loved more

Did I dream too big?

Did my reaching for immortality
with words, by pen
invite Irony, that nasty
little mutant creature
to infiltrate, invade
and add this new storyline to my life?

I want to turn the page now please.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

POEM: reconstruction

I wish I remembered
the last time I took a shower without knowing
I didn’t think to take notice
or treasure the simplicity

Now, each time
I look at my body, my breasts
I think that soon they, at least one, will change
each time I look at myself
my face
my hair
my eyes
I know they are not the same
already changed
something has been removed
before the scalpel has even touched me

What will it look like after?
What reconstruction is there for innocence?

Sunday, April 26, 2009

POEM: blood & milk

blood and milk,
each vital, nourishing
my breasts flow with both now
one feeds my last baby,
drawn out in tenderness
the other, wounded, healing
forcibly drained
pumped as a sign of faith
both elixirs
evidence of hope

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

POEM: evening unleashed

evening is letting go
there's little left to do
what's still undone will have to wait
the precious bit of time remaining
belongs not to the putting away of things
but to getting comfortable
settling down
unwinding thoughts
unraveling the tightly wound tether
that ties me to the day
loose now I drift
the words come if I am patient
ideas flourish in front of me
on the page
they weave their way gently
until they are complete
and the last knot releases
I am done
until tomorrow

Sunday, April 19, 2009

POEM: voice

I’ve found my voice
I recognize it
as if it were always mine,
only lost for a while
Yet I know that all it speaks
is different now,
a quality that is new
from the center
this midpoint that lies
between all there is for me
and all there has been
My new voice recognizes me
and knows we belong together

Saturday, April 18, 2009

POEM: my degree

I once felt unqualified
I had no authority
that I could display
no proof of my legitimate place
but sometimes, sometimes
I found myself knowing
what I know
an unadulterated truth
yet I hesitated to speak
now I offer it up
bravely, determinedly
despite my lack
of proper tag or label
who will listen
becomes less a question
I care to ask
knowing only that to exist
to be earnest
to be passionate and open
are my diplomas
better than any hanging on a wall
or shoved in a dusty box
that I think outside of anyway
because I still can

Thursday, April 16, 2009

POEM: forsythia

I didn't force any forsythia to bloom
spring beat me to it
now long arching branches
are studded with little yellow trumpets
small but noisy
they remind me that I forgot them
they herald change is inevitable
Time marches on

POEM: Pygmalion

As your Eliza Doolittle
I had to find the middle ground
when you were done with me
from the heights you flung me
you let me fall
because I couldn’t fly

but if you’d only held my hand
a little longer
I could have at least hovered
if not so high
then farther than I was able
to make it on my own

A stone once carved can’t go back
to being a rock
to continue life
it must be beheld
eyes upon it
once you turn your back
it is left deformed by the chisel
unable to pick up the pieces
chipped away
now dust

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

POEM: seasoned

When young
I wrote from a point
of influence
but now I write
half as a child
fresh, clean
my own voice alone
but yet still as a woman
older, wiser
experiences available
expressed without hesitation
or filter
my own voice now echoes
the song of a life
already half lived

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

POEM: the edge of knowing

There is a moment
right before awareness
an innocence poised
at the brink
at the edge
before tumbling over
into the chasm
of knowing

That fleeting second
before plummeting
becomes so precious
only after the fall
in retrospect

If only
that moment
could be so loved
without facing the depths

POEM: Fix it

I show him, guide him
let him feel the lump
half hoping in some crazy way
that he'll say,
"oh yeah, one of those,
that's no problem, seen it before
easily fixed,"
as if this were another of his areas
of husbandly expertise
just like he would say
if something were wrong
with our car
or my computer
or the bathroom sink
something simple, harmless
that I just didn't happen to know about
in my girlish ignorance
but instead he looks at me
trying to appear calm
he says, "I love you."
and I am alone again
with my fears

POEM: Changed

My daughter's favorite tree, near blooming
coffee brewing, morning make-up
hum of computer waking up
last week breast in hand, found it
nursing the baby, his waiting mouth
today will reveal what it is not
but no matter what becomes of this
I am changed forever by this

POEM: Distasteful

It is a distasteful word,


it thuds in your mouth

like a stone

cumbersome, heavy

it stays stuck

and is hard to move beyond

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

POEM: waking words

poetry doesn't let me sleep

it tickles my dreams

and pricks my tongue

to speak of morning

POEM: snowflakes from my pen

my words

falling like snowflakes

from my pen

catch them on my tongue

the page

before they hit the ground

and melt away

Monday, April 6, 2009

POEM: Final Resume

Cemetery space
speaks more about life
than what lies beneath speaks of death
Each grave unique
tho fundamentally the same
like the divided cubical
in a corporate office maze
to make the time there more pleasant
less drudgery
more like home

The larger, grander stones
like the coveted corner office
(only no window, no view)
bigger doesn’t always mean better
I guess
not more talented
just more visible
more outspoken

There are tiny stones
some half obscured by overgrown grass
The entry level position perhaps?

But most graves are middle management
the rank and file
each making quiet statements
about who they were or wished to be thought of

There’s a pecking order
organization, structure
even in death
an impenetrable glass ceiling
but no one works their way up that ladder
the final resume on permanent file
a job description carved in stone

Saturday, April 4, 2009

POEM: tinnitus

silence i miss you
your beauty unnoticed
until you went away
i will never win you back
it's over for good now
i should have appreciated you
but i didn't know
you would have a reason to leave me
breaking my heart
shattering it loudly
so loudly
endless echoing sorrow
till i hear no more

POEM: Separation

mountain ridge

brutal slash across the horizon

gaping wound

separating earth and sky

how could you?

Thursday, April 2, 2009

POEM: Hungry Muse

Feed the Muse
give Her books
poetry and art
movies and shows
even websites and blogs
to devour
to distract
a filling detour
She will be hungry for Them
an immense appetite
unquenchable thirst
to prime the Pump
and churn out Work
the reward
it's feeding time again all too soon
an empty plate
equals an empty page