Posts for June 29, 2021 (page 5)

The Islands we go to when we sleep
Are green and winds relentless sweep  

It smells like a little girl’s head
After she’s been playing outside with friends.
After toys lay strewn across the lawn,
Scattered hula hoops and jumping ropes,
Hopscotch squares marked with chalk
And stones tossed as she skips down the walk,
Wearing Ked’s and cotton shorts,
Skipping Double Dutch – one two three –  

I like the boys and they like me.  

Riding bikes until its dark.
Banana seats and handlebars,
In dreams I visit islands that float in time,
The scent of sunscreen and sweat are mine,
But my street’s quiet when I wake up.
No hula hoops, no Double Dutch.

I’m calling you in,

my perfect lover,

my sacred partner.

I am sending out the signal

to tell you I’m ready.

I am done simply fantasizing,

my precious one.

I am ready for you

to be here now.

Come to me.

I am ready to be seen and known,

to be loved and cherished.

I want to make

all our dirty dreams

come true.

I want to learn your body.

Come, be my teacher.

I want to give you pleasure.

Come, show me how.

I’m calling you in.

Every day, I get closer

to attracting you,

to manifesting you.

I am making

space and time

for you in my life.

I am ready to be

a good partner to you.

Come hold me,

come touch me,

come kiss me.

My body is yours

and so is my heart.

I wait for you

like a child

on Christmas Eve,

excited for everything

that is to come.

I can’t wait to have

adventures with you

and quiet moments at home

and nights of deep passion.

Come to me, beloved.

I am calling you in.

Please find me soon.

I love you very much.

Horseshoe crab looks dead

On the beach

Barnacles on his balls

Back in the vacation bed

I’m not ready to die

At the ocean’s edge

Drove past the place I first saw you
in what remains our only crossing,
a place I revisited many times
throughout this latest moon cycle,
the place I awaited the supermoon
that never quite crept into my skies,
and a place I will no doubt return to
in case a story still lives in those walls.

But I will not find it today,
for I have come to appreciate a fact of life:
there’s no room for new beginnings
with old endings still leaking out.
I don’t need to be reaching
across any kind of fire
with all these loose threads
still dangling from my arms.

There is a process following trauma,
a healing that must be undergone.
The letting go of let-downs and denials
of heartbreaks and betrayals
of people who will only consume your love.
People like vampires
who will gladly take your life
if you allow them to.

No, all of these toxins must be released from me
before your light can grace my skies again
for there is no other way to let you in pure.
Besides that, I’ve come to understand
that part of the healing process
is learning how to love yourself again,
and that is something I could never do
if I’m already trying to love somebody else.

I love the hurried cover-up
when people visit our house,
like we vacuum floors everyday
or, likewise, empty the trash.

We don’t live in squalor,
but if dishes sit on the coffee table
one extra day, or three, nobody
fusses. What I’m saying is,
it’s safe to have dinner with us,
but don’t bring your white gloves.

But you’d never know it from how
Emily is sweeping down the steps,
and for who? The new cat sitter.
Let’s face it. She’s gonna snoop
once we’re gone, and that Swiffer
won’t hide what she’s aching to find.

One day I see
pale blue flashes,
neon blinking,
in the periphery 
of a left eye.

The next day I see
delicate black lace
appear and disappear,
then a cobweb 
quickly whisks away.
There are tiny black bubbles–
it’s as if a transparent surf
outlined in black
washes over my eye, 
there and back
there and back
gone.

Another comet of white
light strays from an outer region. 

At this age,
I decide to get it checked:
a tear in my teeny tiny retina,
immediate laser repair– 
no time to think, say no.
I see green veins,
more flashes of 
of light.

Why? Did I rub my eye too hard
with a fist? Too much swimming 
in my friend’s over-chlorinated pool,
not wearing my silly blue goggles?

There is no reason the dr says–no exercise,
no fruit or vegetables, or one less sip of that drink
at the party that put you over the top
that could prevent this.

It is simply because
you are 
“wiser” 
I like this doctor. 
I see.
I laugh.
It is simply because I am wiser.

The tram to Roosevelt Island
carries two souls
Entwined like ivy
vines
holding together
for eternity
To go to and fro
suspended
across the divide
between
air and pluralization
pollution above and below
Packaged in a light embrace

Lordy, lordy
the Roosevelt Island Tram
Will you meet me there
On a Sunday
or on a Tuesday
and ride with me?

                                                                …gotta keep on going, looking
                                                                   straight out on the road…  Be
                                                                   it for reason, be it for love I 
                                                                   won’t take the easy road
                                                                            ~ First Aid Kit

katydid what katydid and katydid it well ~
she rides my car’s side mirror
her long locks flowing
as I drive 64 east 80mph
her slender chartruse legs grip
glass shine, sun shine
admiring herself at high speed

Has deflated itself.

Is wan and slack,
trying to hold shape
then giving lifelessly way.

Can find no more sugar
from which to nourish itself

Will still bake (of course)
dense, flat
When it could have been
Soft, airy.

Is me
Ten years into teaching
                    over-proved,
people wondering how
this happened when no one
paid attention.

I leave us here
foot of mesa cliff  red rock
triangle and sleek
feather in a scallop
seashell  wish you were mine
I think
you will never be
I know
this as close
as we will ever be
look up to the orange-red
facade  towers
into that unmixable
blue   I see
that much lies
ahead and life waits
to be lived