Constancy
I hear love’s language
in the halting speech
of our bodies grown old
together, expression
smooth as tumbled stones
gathered
from our streambed,
laid bare
in the trace of fingers
on wrinkled skin, lips
pressed to cheeks, tears
stilled.
the air was sweet
as the sun cast an orange haze
over the evening
rhubarb wine, just a sip,
sits on my tongue, alongside pineapple
cheese & a mere wafer
i think about the small communions
in which we participate everyday
& all that i worship
i’ve begun to notice the roadside trees
& their intricate vines & leaves more
& inquire into the creates living within
i loathe the sweat on my back,
but i praise the heat & the grass
because they make me forget you
& i know that i can step outside
& be welcomed by every living thing
even if i am no longer welcome in your arms
We met in season
where similes turned into
metaphores
And nouns
transformed themselves to verbs
fusing prepositions
Where our eyes
danced from dead ballets
sat on thorns
To
where our hearts
drapped hooded masks shooting bullets
to now
moments where moonlit nights
becomes our biggest haste
behind cracks of concrete walls
searching for a love
in search of love
A love
not knowing if and where we’ll find
this tangible object
producing
capabilities
where we’re able to hold with clasp
fists
causing daydreams to burst
and glisten behind cloudy skies
And grasshoppers hop on the tips
of their toes
eggar to dance in circle off planks and fly
free
So maybe now I’ll sneeze
and cry a river
that one day
I’ll find that love
through these broken walls of walls
uncracked
of my everyday insecurities
If & when
my insecurities come to be confetti
and I’ll hear someone say:
Excuse Me.
I can only measure the size of things in how wrong I was before
I thought I knew big love until my son was born,
seven and a half weeks
premature
barely but breathing but strong enough still to steal the pen from the nurse who
dared to take his score
A tiny thing with
dark hair &
bottomless eyes &
an iron grip &
the cutest, loudest sneeze & …
I fell to my knees in the old hospital parking garage because there were so many tubes keeping his little body going &
sobbed myself inside out
until the person who knew
the size of love
couldn’t keep existing, because the world they knew was gone—replaced with something
Endless
I thought I knew the size of grief before my husband died
the beast that lurked on the other side
this mourning tide
that threats to pull us under
to pull asunder?
Would be massive, I thought
But it is just a tiny thing
Dark, and smooth
A pebble, warm
Gripped in our hands
But heavier than you can imagine, it’s the darnedest thing deferring …
Differing from the cataclysmic unmaking I taught myself to expect &
What a quiet injustice, some days
But then sometimes, a miracle,
That the person who thought that grief would destroy them
Keeps going.
right now
you’re kinda far away
but if my hand reaches out
then you’re gone
i’ve gnawed, i’ve got my edges frayed
and in the end you’re still
more ragged and more home
ribs locked, hearts sing
more people, more things
all bluff, no ring
all bluff, no ring
today, i want to hear from you,
not the telephone,
but those eyes
they break through.
for bones are never here for me
I’ve gone limp
you fold me up, a cardboard box
ribs locked, hearts sing
more people, more things
hold me small like a tangerine
all bluff, no ring
all bluff, no ring
above everything,
but you
Sapphire saucers
fluid ~~~ shimmering
filled and holding back
vast fathoms of darkness
searching out signs
of a pass-through or a slip
into cautious momentum of both
trying to remember and
trying to forget
the angler fish offers hope
right before it eats.
Get with me on Monday
Stay away from me
The weekend is among us
Not a killer, no disguises
Get with me on Monday
I have more important
Matters slicing across
My achiles
Belly crying
Sore shoulders
Hunched over a
Cracked mirror
Get with me on Monday
Until then I do not exist
Off the clock and
Out of reach
Fat ears
No body sold as
Property
Get with me on Monday
Or be ignored
Until
Monday
1.
Word came to me
that the day after I quit,
he bought pizza for everybody.
Though the words were never spoken,
they all knew
it was a he’s finally fucking gone party.
2.
Despite the pandemic’s becoming more normal
the church–while I was still attending–
wanted to maintain social distancing protocol,
a directive from the bishop.
I had been volunteering as an usher
for at least a year,
trying to do my duty
as an at-the-time-member of the Catholic Church.
Problem was the congregation.
Many of them don’t think
that the bishop is conservative enough
and that they’ve already been saved
despite not spiritually reading the Bible anymore.
These people
who supposedly believed the same as me
would say
this is where I normally sit
so this is where I’m going to sit
without any concern for me
or anyone else,
yet still saying
they’ve given themselves wholly to God.
Makes me wonder
if the pope himself asked for help
in keeping everyone safe,
would they still spit in his face?
What if it was Jesus?
3.
Of course,
this was also the time
when my silent yearning–
my greatest spiritual villain–
finally moved on with her life
(supposedly) closing the door
on our story forevermore.
I had so desperately hoped
she would reach out
just one more time.
I wronged her bad,
but true forgiveness
is just too hard for some people.
4.
And then there was
that annoyingly tragic raven (sorry,
but I always made it clear
there are no limits in June)
If you had just given me the space
I was practically begging for,
maybe love could have found a way.
Or, at least, friendship
5.
Meanwhile, the spineless one
simply watched like a bobble-head
as his colleague
subtly derided and degraded me,
that friendship being more important
than preserving the dignity
of another human being
ready to jump off a cliff.
Or worse.
6.
They say we become
like the five people
we’re around the most.
I may not have spent
actual time with all these individuals
but they still dominated my mind,
so what’s the difference, really?
And it’s also worth wondering
how powerful any of these people
would be without the others.
That’s why it’s important
to be kind always.
7.
It’s not that I don’t have
good people in my life.
They’re just the bartenders
or friends along the same journey,
the family far way (but only sometimes)
or the similarly broken and flailing,
all of whom can only support me
by picking up the pieces of me
at the bottom of the cliff,
and good for them for doing that much.
If only they could be at the source of the problem.
No, what I’m missing
is a catcher in the rye
to save me from jumping off the cliff,
or the people who would ignorantly let me walk off,
or the men
who would push me off.
Such a shame.
Witnessing the hot and cold like seasons changing
hello turns into goodbye
yes into maybe
“I love you” grows hard to come by
and forever?
slowly but surely
becomes never again.
Have you ever seen a broken heart?
Not one with a single crack down the middle, no
that heart can be mended
One row of sutures pulls it back together leaving a scar that’s almost nonexistent. Almost.
I wish I had that kind of broken heart. Or something close.
Instead I have the kind most people have never seen
one that shatters and shines like a crystal bowl after hitting concrete
bits and pieces scatter and get lost and no matter how hard you try to put it back together
It will never be whole again.
