Posts for June 6, 2022 (page 4)

A man boards a train going somewhere, carries black and white photo close.

How many things did I buy because I couldn’t find the one I brought,
Buried in the bottom of a box of things I was compelled to keep because I can’t  leave anything behind.
Except the monkeys I painted on the wall when you still breathed my air
And the yard I lovingly tended because the green was my life, escape, necessary
And the conversations the walls hold until someone new fills in the nail holes and calls it their own

The sun is still sneaking 
between the cracks of my window panes 
its getting late 
summer time lingers in the hours
I’m fighting the sleep in my eyes 
its still day light 
I wonder
If I can consider it to be night 

he slid the curtain aside
pressed lips to
glass
hard until it hurt
until time slowed, and
ran backward 
into other evenings
other days
other mornings
when thunderstorms 
turned to blue sky
fog to crisp wind
snow to spring heat
then opening his eyes
he shattered
the pain

I’m thinking of bodies
and
the parts we admire:
legs, breasts, backs…
and
I want to write poetry
about your fingertips
and
the lines they draw
on the contours
of my body.

The garden
has hidden
spectacles of
beauty and mystery
A bound body in a web
Voracious insects,
long gone,
decorated leaves
with irregular holes,
where the light falls through
to dance on little puddles
like diamonds in the dirt.
A lost toy under a bush
casts a long shadow
only at dusk and dawn
hoping to be found
Caravans of ants pass
on invisible highways
never noticing me
stunning silence

It’s all the roses you never bought me,
All the kisses you gave me,
And the ones you should’ve given me,
It’s all the dates we never went to,
All the movies we never watched,
All the plans that never came through,
All the hugs I never got,
That play in my head over and over.

Let me unfold myself into a map
and call it me, the legend
a box over my left chest–
what would have been
heart. Mark the great latitude
and longitude lines. They’re etched
like tattoos. My voice, pages
rustling like money from the lender.
                                                                Honey,
it’s time for dinner, but how do you know
where to go without me? Thumb yourself 
a sleek app and leave my leafs be–order
delivery, if you can afford it without me
to guide you. Trust. I can be direct,
or I can atlas myself and
carry that burden for years. 

Gravity overcomes

thr strength of the eyes.

Memories of youth and life

replay in the mind

When times were softer

And being wasn’t so hard.

Flashes of the past

Stab like the natural thorn

Bleeding memories from the core

To remind thyself

That the once perfect image of beauty and youth

Will be never more

That smile

The dainty air

The freshness of life is replaced with despair

As thoughts of you only hurt more ,

As I see you approach the golden shore.

The sands of time that spelled your name,

Won’t fall the same and won’t replace

The heap of love you set in my heart, even though you’re gone ,

We’re never apart,

This isn’t your end,

It’s just a fresh start.

But what am I,

To be reborn?

I thought I’d shake this one over the night ,

But I don’t feel anything like me

The broken side that doesn’t heal as fast as the first wounds ,

Or the last few

june brings promises of sunshine, pool days and tan lines
june given hope for happier moods
june lets me sit in the yard with my book without pools of my own sweat
gathering on my feet
june is sunny and bursting with birthdays
june is trips to the park with my dog
(too eager and too happy to be outside)
june is doesn’t have snow showers
or frost nipping my red nose
june is kind, happy and dancing 
june is my kind of month