Poetry and Other Original Works

For K...Who my love grows stronger for every day

I have never known pleasure
like this
a woman's hands
on me, in me, reaching
for the darkest places of my
fear and desire
stretching my borders and exploring the
uncharted territories within
You are a pioneer
strong and determined
seeking not only the gold mines
but the flooded valleys and
dark forests that only you
can illuminate
explore me
reach past the stony granite
to the molten core
peel back the roughened, dying bark
and feel my juices soak your hands
tear away the thorny branches and
eat of my sweet fruits
In this new land of discovery
there can be no turning back
so I will grow and blossom under your touch
and leave this vast wilderness
to only you...



Memorial for the Leaves
(For Jen...5/6/79-9/28/95)

I've never been very good at farewells,
the words always stuck somewhere between
my heart and paralyzed tongue, but
my silence has usually been enough.
The emotions I held back could be seen in my eyes-
if you caught me at that precise moment
when my mouth moved silently and my head
bowed down as if in prayer. I suppose
it was a prayer of sorts- screamed inside my head
and repeating, "She's leaving. She's leaving."

You left me on that cold autumn day
when crimson leaves crunched under our feet
and the clouds you exhaled mingled with mine.
I remember you cried, although I wasn't sure why--
you never told me that would be the last time
I would hold your hand and wonder
at the sadness in your eyes. But maybe it's better 
that I didn't know I would never see your face again, 
so I could remember how you smiled at me
when I told you I would always love you.

It's autumn again, but I cannot run under the trees
without seeing you ahead of me-
arms outstretched, head thrown back to the stormy sky.
I hadn't cried when you had told me how people shattered 
just as easily as the brown leaves we trampled,
but now my eyes turn red at the thought.
I didn't understand, then, that you were confessing
that your fate was as imminent as the leaves that blew
in circles around us and crumbled as they fell.
But the realization has hit me, now,
while a blanket of snow silently covers the injured ground
and my footprints wander through the landscape in solitude.



Pissed Off Poem (Installment #994578563)

i walk steadily
tiredly
my kitty cat with pointed ears
clutched tightly and ready to defend
and i seethe as my feet slap
cold wet sopping
concrete
that i must always be on guard after
the last sun rays have slid down the drain
because someone
anyone
might not like me they might
not like the way i dress
or what i believe in or
who i love
they might notice the soft curves under my tshirt
my hips might swing too much i might
appear the weaker sex
and just maybe someone
maybe anyone
will count me as an easy target
might find it their duty to conquer me
i grasp at straws for protection
and hide in androgyny
my stride a bit longer the draws
on my cigarette more firm
cloth holding my breasts flatter against muscle
aching with the tightness of fear
because someone
anyone
just might see that i am a woman
and decide that i am theirs for the taking...



St. Cloud

I let you go
pushed you hard and threw my arms
open wide
Watched you walk out the door and
closed my eyes to your departure
No words were left on our tongues
not even a goodbye
But in your hasty retreat you left
the lyrics of your song
etched into the glass of the windows
to my untamed soul...



Sorry I Am

I'm sorry
for bringing you into this world, for
chasing after you and
pulling you in
and then running away just when
your new life had begun
I apologize
for offering you an eternity
and choking it short before
you could even move past the mystery
and accept my invitation
I lead you on a road to nowhere
and fooled even myself
with carefully colored dreams that
could never materialize
Do you understand this hell that is
not your or mine,
that haunts me when i dream
of dancing forever in arms that i
cannot identify?
There was never a place for us
at the table and perhaps
there never will be
I should have dreamt for myself
and left your eager love
to someone with more vacancy...



Butterfly

i opened my mouth to breathe
and you came rushing in
like an infection
there was no protection from your
uninvited stare
that pinned me like a butterfly
to the wrapping paper of your soul
until there was nothing left for me to hold
onto anymore
except maybe your arms...




Chimerical Inebriety

You smelled faintly of chlorine and the soap in your shower.
Robe soaked, hair wet, warm, dripping on me and the couch
and your laughter hanging in the air.
Your mouth curved in a voluptuous smirk, begging to be tasted.
Warm hands, warm lips, reaching arms, a whisper-
the knots in your back untangled, skin smooth, lean, lithe.
I breathed your hair, your neck, your eyes becoming my sight
your lips my speech, lines merging and indistinct...



Untitled

You came like a shadow
passing over me lightly
calling silently...
I listened carefully to your words
and gave in...
You tasted like forbidden fruit,
like something I stole from the sacred garden,
and I wanted to remember that taste
in my dreams...
									  					


Recordings

I)  Last day of April and the sun is gone away for the weekend.
	I think he followed your van on the road
	leaving me this bitter rain and wind
	that blow down my defenses.
	The record of my life runs deep on my palms.
	More than one line tells a story of you and 
	the gypsy can read them too easily.
	Would I see myself in the palm of your hand?

II) You left the country on the last day, 
	excited about your escape.
	Those who went with you closed their eyes.
	I could never call them your equals, there 
	wasn�t one as strong as you, so their titles 
	fit loosely like hand-me-down coats.
	You led them to a near-victory, humble when praised
	and kept yourself at a physical distance, edgy.
	The words I said were not the ones I wanted to
	but you accepted my embrace, the wide span
	bridged for a brief moment.

III)The darkness was enough to push me into
	a melancholy mood, longing intangible things.
	And you sat next to me with unusual freedom, not
	leaning away or crossing your arms to keep the distance.
	The time came when our laughter led to a touch,
	your hand on my hand, smooth and warm,
	causing our laughter to suddenly stop.
	I could not discern your look when our eyes met,
	too guarded to reveal anything to me, but hoped that 
	my eyes wouldn�t communicate the longing I felt.

IV) We sat on the hill in respective silence, watching 
	the sun sink into the ocean, a red blob of energy 
	taking a swim, while you played with the strap on my shoe.
	The cloud touched the hill next to the daisy you picked 
	from the meadow below and kissed your toes, 
	caressed your figure, mocking me with its freedom to touch.
	The poem would not take shape, would not fulfill the need 
	to tell you why an ambulance wasn�t needed for the
	unbelievably fast pounding of my heart or the riptide 
	in my veins and why my fingers wouldn�t stop tingling
	(A sure sign of a heart attack.)
	Your fingers didn�t touch to stop the shiver,
	your hand couldn�t merge with mine.



Thank you, Ani

He says Go ahead sweethaht
i�m not in line and i think
who the hell does this guy
think he is with my
leather jacket and backwards hat 
guitar at my side and he smiles 
like he can cut me down 
with a comment like that without
a bitch or a rant so i
look over my shoulder to make sure
he�s not talking to some femmey girl
behind me but i don�t
anticipate a recant
from that smirking hole in his head
or his cold gray eyes
vacant and dim even with
the neon lights blaring from the marquee
So what are you doing here then
i ask him
not too interested
just waiting for my chance to
stomp circles around his
pea-brain head
with my steel-toed boots and he sighs
and admits he�s just here
for the music playing at 9 while
i try not to smile
laugh to myself in fury and pity
in the back of my mind at this
slack
jawed 
idiot
calling me sweetheart without
a second thought
but then he hits 
rock
bottom
with Hey honey lemme buy you a drink
lemme pay your way in
these punks are waiting for the music
for a good time but that ain�t nothing and they think
2 hours will be enough but i could
give you more entertainment
all night with my touch
and i say
i am the entertainment, mister,
Fuck you very much...
		
	

Leningrad

Vsyo idyot po planu
Strange rolling off the tongue
Your foreign thoughts
Open only to familiar strangers...

In silences of silky touch
Dreaming fragmented realities
You swallow-- a Russian roulette
Our gambles at life
Tasted on soundless lips...

Praying, we see though blurry sights
Our god-- faded, tattered, dead...

Pain is a precious mentor
Loving you in rainbow lights
And we are not united here,
Never pushing about the surface
Unwilling to sleep next to our fates...



Sestroretsk

Smashing glass, crunching under your feet-
can it ever be repaired?
Some things have become too precious, too real
to leave there on the edge but
I�m balancing precariously-
with only one hand I want for security.

It�s cold on this balcony, this sidewalk
now that you�re looking in on me,
handing me a free ticket, a promise
trapped in a bottle that�s
going �round like a russian roulette
while we all take our gambles at life.

And, yeah, you can laugh but did you know
that I�m wise to your game, 
know that I�m going to win one day?
You�ve already forfeited this night.
And I can hear the crying out side your door-
go let them in, they�ve already lost.

Yeah, we could jump right now- that train
is going fast enough to hurt,
fast enough to erase this memory, push us
into a realization.

But are you masochistic enough- are we
far enough into the game?
I thought your lips told me the answer
in their silence last night,
when I said more than you could ever hear
in a foreign tongue and impetuous fusion...



Untitled (And Unfinished!)

face pressed into the pillow
to soak up the scent, to hoard it,
soul stranded somewhere in between
the poems that lay in the curve of your breast
and falling....

you roll away to glass
pale reflection, silver on flesh
and my hand pulls you back to silken warmth
I�m not done looking yet...



Threads of Gold			 

I see a leaning tower in your eyes
and Pike�s Place can�t salvage what�s left of this
there�s too little left, those champagne bubbles
Oh God how they kill me God how they burn me and
where is that last piece of glass?

Well, you never fulfilled the promise for all those days
but who really cares when you
Are going to live with your Bible, your sinner, your
goddamned woman with steel threaded all through
her heart and soul. You can�t prove your piety
by redeeming her.

And where�s your baby, now- is she going to hell without you?
Maybe I�ll give her a lift on my way.

You know your ring will burn my hand oh long before
I reach the fires and it will melt
Oh it will melt, I will melt and I will be your
precious angel dust
hangin� onto threads of gold, oh God how it hurts
when my hand is empty

And damn, how you lie to hide the lust behind your eyes
whenever she is with us
with her sexy legs, her longing looks, her lighter set 
under our photo album
Behind that wicked smile, the laugh- our pictures on fire, 
incinerating
and your bed is covered with ashes, your hands, your soul
But give me one last kiss, my dear...

Thanks to Get Your Own Free Homepage