So I visit you again, my old friend.

The one that brought me to life, stirred my passionate self

and planted a paradise on my heart’s shelf.

I see you sitting here in my bed,  as you did once long ago,

offering me a promise with a smile, a twinkle in your eye and a ring in your hand.

My heart quivered never before to have felt such

an inside melting and explosion all at once,

to which later became a reminder of  things repeatedly broken.

Slam.. the glass and shattering.

Fast on the skull – a fist to send my head reeling.

Over and above - you tossed me round and pinned me down,

hands scrambling to confuse and grab my face as I bat the arms that try to restrain me. Over and over I do love you.. over and over you come at me with a twist and a bite,

a kick and a pillow to smother me. 

My heart beats fast and I just try to survive the moment til the storm subsides.

“Oh why?” I asked inside.  What could I do when the tornado hit?

I clicked my red heels to go home, but I don’t visit Kansas anymore. 

I left the shock and awe for some other Dorothy to someday take on.

But inside the flashbacks come on occasion. 

And somehow despite it all I find myself reaching out for a stolen dream,

like the child that didn’t see it coming and still needs to feel he, or she, was loved.

I too wait at the gate of wounds that reawaken – a bittersweet collection of moments,

a kneeling looking up through the beam of light through which I first saw you.

Posted: September 9th, 2008 under Soliloque on Gabriel (poetic journey), my poetry.
Comments: 1

My friend asked me, “Do you feel fulfilled?”

I thought what an interesting question.

What does that mean - to be fulfilled?

Shall we look to another for that or is it something you already have?

Love is a confusion.

Love is a hurricane.

Love is a shape shifting beast.

Love is everything and is nowhere when you’re looking

and screaming right at you when you’re not paying attention.

How do you know that you don’t just love for..

comfort..  companionship..  security..  habit..  to feel necessary or needed..

to feel entertained.. or not bored.. or to just feel loved?  

How do you know that what you feel is real?

or is it .. a feeling you’ve chosen for unrelated reasons?

What if you love in order to be loved?  

Do you love because you see something of yourself inside another?

Or do you love because you see something that you don’t possess?  

Some missing piece of the puzzle?

Sometimes it’s like a raging fire and burns too bright 

and other times it’s so subtle that you barely know its there.

I doubt the certainty of it all.  I doubt the strong and the soft.

But in the end I submit to the endless searching,

the confusion that I wish to be convinced with all.

Posted: September 7th, 2008 under my poetry, my thoughts.
Comments: none

Eyes that crash into each other’s unintentionally.

Why does this happen now?  We are not allowed.

Trespassing in accidental company.

Our hands so quickly to come together,

breath held, 

unspoken symphonies have me quivering 

as I fight to not let my face reveal what is felt.

So much is said with the interweaving of fingertips.

Timing - my enemy - holding happiness always out of reach,

love for ransom..

..connections out of sync.

Posted: September 7th, 2008 under my poetry.
Comments: none

Moving through numbess. 

The ache - to feel, 

a pressure stifled within.

Open me up, knock down my walls, shake me loose.

Take me to the edge and push me off.  I want to fall.

Posted: September 7th, 2008 under my poetry.
Comments: none

There is a vantage point where my hands seem far away,

and I look down at my arms as strangers,

take in a deep breathe and remind myself this is the body I am within.

The fan above me is creaking and moaning.

Some vehicle is screetching far away,

slowly it gets closer and increases its whine and then subsides.

A siren spins out all around in horns and echoes.

Sigh upon sighs.. deep inhale and exhale onto a sound.

There you are.  Over and over landing a couple feet outside my mouth.

Perhaps in my hands,  or my empty lap.

But a touch on my shoulder and I feel you near. 

Sometimes it’s like a constant pressure on my chest.

and then it’s just that held place between the breath in and out.

Or the unheld space that leaves me in a free fall.

How is it when I said, “Can’t you see I’m falling?” –

that you said “I’ll catch you,” then?

Like water escaping down the drain into the earth you left me sinking.

Slipping between the rocks on a pebbled beach I shy away from this

to join the everything and nothing of living.

Posted: September 5th, 2008 under my poetry.
Comments: none