Indifference

I want so badly to be indifferent
I wish wholeheartedly not to feel

But every word, and every smile
forces my memory to reveal

The hidden thoughts, a secret world
I’ve tried quite often to bury

Because no one here could understand
and shouldn’t I be wary

To reveal what was once concealed
and so boldly preserved

A thought to spark this secret desire
what’s worse, I thought I deserved…

He didn’t care, he wouldn’t dare
to become someone who loved

And this I pushed aside with glee,
thinking I’d avoided being shoved

This way, that way, back and forth
A world I cared not to know

But now I stand on ground well trodden
feeling things I’d long forgotten, see the glow

And how it shows the light in my eyes
at the same time with the light is the dark

It always overwhelms and swells
sadness hunts joy, sorrow a shark

Cutting through the happy waters
of my tepid disposition

As it swells and rises like a tide
when my bosom holds this recognition

And so I stand up to say, I’m sorry,
I can’t, good bye and I must go

We can’t be friends because of this
thing I can’t let go, even though, even though…

Climax

I’m smiling,
Smiling wide.  I’d like to thank you for bringing this smile to my lips.

My mouth is opened slightly and my eyelids lowered.
I’m in a happy daze as you embellish on my hips:

Embellish stories of flooding, create stories of rolling hills, moving clouds,
A rocking earth which shivers and trembles at the hand of the gods.

The Lost Lady

I crumpled up the notes and let them sink to the bottom of the ocean
There on the floor they lay, and I was lying on the floor in my room
Staring at the ceiling and wondering where she went
The last time I saw her, she was driving in her car
Away from me, and my feet, too slow, couldn’t follow;
It was a scene too hard to swallow.

I took the note she gave me and put it on a spaceship.
Now it’s circling round the moon.  Think I gave it up too soon?
It’s floating in the sky, and I’m floating on my side
In my bed, wondering why I’m sitting here, wasting life
I put on my shoes and walked across the floor
Pulled on the knob and opened the door.

The wind is bitter here.  I never understand why it’s so cold
My coat is buttoned up to my throat
And the wind still gets in.  I tucked my pants into my socks
And put mittens on my hands and looking like a fool
I walked and walked and ran until I found the place she lived
And like a shadow I sat and waited.

It was night time, and she never came home.  I lay by the bushes.
I saw a policeman walk to the door and knock.
A man came outside with a fearful look on his face –
Was this the man she lived with now?
At once, his expression crumpled, his forehead fell into his palm
I knew what happened and somehow remained calm.

I moved to the garage roof.  I could see into his open window.
He started removing her things from her drawers.
I knew they were hers, because I had seen them
A million times, looking flawless when she donned them.
And once they were strewn across the room

The man gave up and went to sleep, perhaps he accepted her doom.
I felt bad for him, but more so for me.  I never got
To say anything to make up for what I had done.
And now she was dead.  I lay on the roof and my face too
Fell into my palms, and I slept.
They found me in the morning, the neighbours
Who liked to snoop around her house for gossip.

I lay crumpled, as crumpled as the notes,
As crumpled as her lover’s face, as crumpled as the garbage
I had fallen beside.  The people covered my head
In a white sheet and took me away in a van.
The man never knew I was there, and she never knew
That the last thing I wanted to say was never adieu.

But I fell with a smile that night.  I was on to my next
Adventure.  And I knew what I would find there,
In the murky ocean depths, or in the stars of heaven
And who was waiting, already there, to greet me
With open arms and a warm smile.
I felt as welcomed by her as I had in a while.

Letter

I was suffering severely when I wrote those words that like torrents of tears poured from my mouth, my face – and face is the value you took them at: a mistake.  The words that push you away were meant to call you back.  Back to the place that we once started from. Friends.  Fearless friends that fought, that fought each other, fought against the bad, bad that is in the words, the world, the whirlwind of thoughts we had, that echoed each other.

Stained Pages

In my hands I hold my tears,

Along with all my grief and fears.

Sometimes they shine so awfully bright

With their awful silvery light.

Other times so dull and black,

Like the bottom of an empty sack.

The weight is heavy in my palm –

Feeling stressed and so not calm.

Always looking for a break,

Where’s my peace, and where’s my cake?

Life’s not the breeze they told me about:

Here’s to hunger, sorrow, drought.

Happiness has long betrayed

This lonely body here to stay.

Drive the knife across the wrist,

Swallow pills, cross name off list.

And here we are each dawn, each day:

Struggling through, finding a way

Over the next mountain we find the strength to climb,

Somehow manage every time.

No will to vanish, just exist,

Hand with tears, clenched jaw and fist.

Bite back the words, hold back the punch.

It’s all you can do to stomach lunch.

Write it out or carve it in flesh;

Life’s not so simple as you say, John Tesh.

Dislike to hear, dislike to know

The easy joy in which some flow,

When simply living is a chore,

When faking happy is a bore.

It’s all I can do to just press on:

Smile brightly, stifle yawn.

Today I did my hair for you

Doubt you noticed, I’d forget to care too.

Find someone to love you more than you they,

Or you’ll be disappointed every day.

Never feeling good enough,

Life gets hard and fights get rough.

Soon it’s over, just as fast as start;

Healing after becomes an art.

Maybe one day “existing” won’t be hard.

Maybe one day I’ll pick up the shards:

The pieces collected on the ground,

Swept under the rug, but kept around

For the day I’ll find it safe to say

I’m ready to feel, to be put on display,

And someone will take my hand and show me the way,

No more lies: I’ll stop putting on a play,,

And I’ll live and smile wide,

A spring in every step, in every stride,

Suddenly less shame and more pride.

One day I’ll look back and grin

Not recognizing who I’ve been.

For now I’ll wallow, and I’ll get lost

In the murky fog and dusky frost:

So unsure of where I’m going,

Hard to see when it won’t stop snowing.

But when all is white, and not all black

I know hope’s still here, it’s not turned back.

I’ll face the road that lies ahead;

I’ll read a book, I’ll get out of bed.

Maybe tomorrow won’t be as dark.

Maybe tomorrow the trees won’t bark.

Let all the hallucinations leave me be.

I want my peace, I want to see

The world for what it truly is:

Both good and bad, the pop and fizz,

The cake of life I’ll finally eat,

The peace I’ll get – it’ll be so sweet.

I’ve waited so long to just stop hurting,

Maybe to trade for careless flirting.

Rid my veins of jealousy.

Destroy every piece of animosity.

No more enemies, just friends

And joyful acts, for means may justify ends.

For all this I truly work,

Though sorrow be my gloomy quirk.

I want to smile, I want to say:

Life’s a pleasure every day.

Cut out the part that wants to die,

Remove the part that wishes time would fly.

For I know that on death’s bed

I’ll wish for more minutes to be ahead.

No more wanting to end my life,

Finally glad I was a wife.

Embrace the truth, embrace it now.

Keep every promise, every vow.

Talk to strangers, talk to mom.

Drop the grudges, don’t drop the bomb.

One day we’ll grow up big and strong.

One day our life resumé will be long.

Don’t spend time unravelling the tapestry;

Pick up the needle and thread, it won’t go disastrously.

If only to try and not give up,

If only to brim fill up the cup

And toast your neighbour and toast yourself;

Hide regrets upon the shelf.

Take the one life you were given to lead;

Love that life and never plead

For it to end, or you to die;

You may be precious in one eye.

It’s all it takes to move along,

You’re not alone, don’t need to be strong

All by yourself for there’s someone

To listen, to care, who you may summon.

Be it Jesus, mom or friend,

They will be there until the end.

As you can tell, this struggle is tough;

Words are said, but is that enough?

The silence in which fills the space

Sometimes says more than words can place.

So read the hurt between the lines,

The hardships, the sorrows, the “I said I’m fine”s.

Through all the lies, and the grief I’ve caused

I’m most sorry, and so I’ve paused

–How can I clean up this mess?

Surely on my own, it won’t be best.

I’m asking please don’t let me be.

Don’t let me go, I won’t be free.

The chains that bind attack in solitude;

In loneliness, I am their food.

I’m gobbled up and strapped down tight,

Cannot move – it’s an awful fright.

I don’t ever want to live this way,

And that is why I’ve come to say

I’ll write this poem, I’ll write this rap

It’s not a message or a trap;

I just want to spill over the edge;

I want to pour my soul over the ledge.

What most of all I want to share

Cannot be written here or there.

The words inscribed are on my heart;

I cannot translate – I’ve not found the art.

And so from there they won’t depart,

They aren’t so sweet, but not too tart.

Just listen here and place your hand

Over my chest and understand

I’m not so normal, rather odd –

I see agreement; I see you nod –

My whole life I’ll look for words;

I’ll write and write of things unheard,

And still not manage to make it clear

Just the thing you want to hear.

What we want, it can’t be found,

And so this emptiness resounds

Whether in a poem or words unspoken,

Whether in promises whole or broken.

All will come to disappoint,

All will come to smoke the joint

To pass it to the left or right –

Or I don’t know because I was busy picking fights.

I feel the need to stop and say

I’m sorry to someone, every day.

My life must be some kind of mistake;

I stay up to think and next day shake

My head and say, what’s it for?

This life I lead, and do I just want something more?

And then it comes the time to end,

To wrap it up to post or send

Away these foul and idiotic words –

To a friend . . . or to the birds?

Do I crumple them up and throw them out?

Sit and reread to sob and pout?

The ridiculous notion that these can matter,

That these may get someone off the ladder

Or off the bridge or maybe save the kid down the hall,

Don’t you wish we knew they all

Would go home safe and lie in bed,

Sleep ‘til morning, good dreams in their head?

But this will never be the case,

So I’ll try and sleep, and not pace

Like someone is doing on this night.

They cannot rest, they had a fight.

Their life just sucks, they can’t pay bills,

Too much to lose, can’t down the pills

It’s not that easy, that way out.

It’s better to stay, to scream, to shout,

To cry the words and how you need help,

To swallow the pride and cry and yelp

Like the wounded creature humans are –

No matter if they’ve travelled far –

To take the pains and trials here

To face the demons and the fear

To hold the tears in each our hands

To give the liquid to the lands;

To close your eyes and finally rest

Try and lift the burdens from your chest,

To breathe and not hear strangled cries,

To stop the cursing, stop the lies

May be the goal that all achieve

And let the breath be of relief.

The last word be of falling rain,

The cleansing power it maintain,

And wipe the sins from off my head

And I will rest upon this bed

And no more write these wretched words:

Put down the pen and end absurd-

ities, though they remain

Inside this notebook as a stain.

Hope for a Friend

Do not let your sorrow define your being
understand that it is an intricate part
of life, and understanding, and even happiness

Do not let your worries get in the way of your goals
because your goals are concrete and achievable
and your worry cannot stand up to the winds of change

Do not become burdened by things you cannot change
but ask for serenity, and change the things you can
We have more power than we know.

Let the little things make you happy, and take five minutes
to listen to the song you love, to let something make you laugh
play with life and dwell on love you have, not love you’ve lost

In no way am I suggesting to be optimistic,
your expectations will never be met as they are in fantasy,
that world and this one do not coexist.

But let yourself enjoy the things that make you smile
in a world that makes you cry, in a world where bad things
happen every day to both good and horrible people

Understand the wrong in the world, and do not take part
let your knowledge be resistance, let your smile be the cure
and don’t let anyone tell you how to feel

How you feel is part of who you are, your unique being
and some are pessimistic, and some are sorrowful,
only the ignorant are always happy.  Don’t be like that.

Let hope rise with the morning sun, and open it into
your room when you pin back the curtains.  Let it soar
on wings of tears and wishes for change.  We need change.

Do not be discouraged by the depression you feel when
you’re blue for ‘no reason’ – there is always reason.
Embrace your grief, welcome it and the knowledge it represents.

You won’t be part of the baffled crowd.  Own your heart
control you desire, laugh in the rain, let life inspire.

Untitled

I

She let her dress slip so it hung off of her shoulder,

turned around, but then glanced back at me.

Her laugh danced like bells on the air.

I knew because I heard it earlier at the restaurant,

but I could not hear it now.

There was an ear-splitting, glass-shattering shaking and drilling which instilled tremors

in the ground we were standing on,

and tremors in my heart.

All I saw and felt and heard, however, was her, and her laugh, and

I mistook those tremors for a feeling called loved

which is a mistake I believe

so many people make and have made throughout time and history.

And I believe that this mistake can be held accountable

for many tragic events – take it from the Greeks.

I’m sure it wasn’t only them, it just took their obvious error to embarrass

politicians and presidents to better hide their own.

Walking behind her,

I slid both my hands down the back of her neck,

sweeping them over her shoulders and, carrying the dress with them,

down her arms.

Her skin was not too pale.  There were few freckles, but not enough to say she was freckled.

She was simply imperfect, and average, and in that moment,

she was mine.

My own shirt came tumbling off and in that second,

she pushed me.

I fell,

What some may say as falling hard –

and fell deep, into the water.

And this I also mistook for love.

Because in the presence of desire, everything seems like love:

the air you breathe,

and what you fall into,

and the tremors you feel in your breast.

And the nervousness and fear of looking like a fool

you mistake for butterflies,

and the fear of being rejected

you feel as fear of losing your beloved.

And none of it is real and none can be trusted

because if it all disappeared in that moment, you would live on,

your heart whole, even if cracked by disappointment of expectation.

She dived into the water beside me.   Her hand

gently tugging my pants off in the water

before she came up for air.

I had no fear of drowning as she swam into my arms and our combined weight and my

lack of swimming ability and strength caused us to sink further down.

It felt like I was falling further in love.

Some one, or two, people walking by shouted at us judgingly (and jealously it seemed to me), “Get a room!” and a little boy asked his mother, “Why are those people not trying to get out of the water?”

But we couldn’t hear them over the tremor in the sky,

like it was tearing apart and the world was ending, and

staring into each other’s eyes and lusting after each other’s bodies,

there was only us in the moment.

And her hand running over my body mixed with the watery sensation

and my legs kicking, struggling to stay afloat, caused me to cry out her name,

which I was really whispering,

but I swallowed some water and began to choke,

and I thought my coughing was actually cries of passion

because when you are in love, everything feels like something good. And as I

sank a little deeper, I fell for her a little harder, and my heart grew in size

to accommodate the amount of love I felt in my bosom.

Twenty minutes later, it was only she who emerged from the water.

Her dress was draped elegantly over the railing where she left it.

It fell over her shoulders like silk and didn’t hang or cling to one inch of her completely and suddenly dry body.

And she flung her lengthy locks over one shoulder, and they fell long and perfectly down her back.

And if her shoulder blades could feel love, they would have fallen for and with the hair

— as I had.

And where was I? I had sunk so deeply into the wondrous passion,

and felt so much amour for my dear

that I knew the water in my lungs, filling up the space made for oxygen,

was only her taking my breath away with her beauty and radiance.

And I knew the light disappearing from my eyes

was only so that I could experience her body and all passion

with my other senses so fully.

And I knew the rocky sand beneath my feet was our bed

and that panicky feeling – like drowning – I knew it was butterflies,

it was love.

I gave it all up for love,

and it was worth it.

If anyone tells you their feelings were a mistake, they were not in love.

They did not feel it all.

And how can I not believe that she did not feel the same? I know she did.

II

She walked home alone that night,

with a curious smile on her lips, one that said

she had another successful seduction,

one that asked,

Who’s next?

III

And the earth shook, and the stars fell out of the sky,

and she seduced the moon from its place in orbit.

The tide turned, my body washed on the shore, and I died

of heart break as I watched her traitorous arms wrap around the man in the moon.

The city streets flooded and the ocean’s emptied,

and somehow everyone stayed asleep.

And I was dead,

my heart in pieces.