PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I see time and space
as a black lake and us
as islands floating in the deep.
I see that things happen to us
and those events cause ripples
in the water surrounding us.
I see that humanity and nature
together create ripples that are ever
colliding, joining, and cancelling.
I see that the shores of our lake
reflect large ripples back at us
and so past events remain present.
I see events so large they cause
ripples that become waves.
The more those things happen
the stormier our waters become
and the longer it takes to be still again.
I look at my People and see
the storms we've had to endure
and that the ripples from those storms
are still strong enough to flood
and wash away our tiny islands.
I see myself in that water
and recognize the past is still
trying to wash away my shores

as I try to build them up.
I see then that my failure to do so
is not always for my lack of trying.
I see also that the consequences
of my actions are very real and
that they affect those around me

and even those to come.
So I choose to still the storm around me and
to build the resiliency of my small island.
I hope my People can do this as the ripples
from the storms we endured and endure
become smaller, and our islands larger.

I hope we can bridge the waters and 

individual islands become continents. 
I pray for those whose islands
were washed away in past storms

and for those who are drowning today.
I carry on, for their sacrifice demands it.

if you wanted something special

I could pull a few strings

give you the gold dust from the stars

I have losses I could make into magic for you

if you like these colors I can spin them into tapestries

we will always have

things to remember

I will name you things there aren’t names for

I hang on

moments that almost were moments

love that is love plus something

and yes there are worlds in our eyes

but we will find them

what if we never find them

I think I found the perfect words

and then I lose them again

like I am hoping not to lose you

my peace is drawn from something

deeper than you

it happened

you pulled me with your fingertips

we take each other back to

moments and basements

shatters and forgiving

you are pieces of my past sewn together

my future melted into a yesterday

it hopes I can make it to white dresses without

looking at the wrong horizon

I am following the fire with a little bit of smoke,

a little bit of chaos

Remember when

Every heartbeat was

More, more than you

Ever asked for? I always

Mean to tell you stories

But every time I

End up at

Remember when.

My brain whirs when the sun goes off

and isn’t it funny

that I have always been nocturnal even when I am asleep

the loner the

lover the

one to grow at night alone

the one to build arches that stretch

toward the hibernating sun

and build nests scattered with moonlight

you will never fit into

Isn’t it funny

the only time I think of you is in bed

when that’s the last place you wanted to be

The stars think I am attuned to you

and the way time is shoved down my throat here

When I think about it I can swallow it,

a spoonful of earthquake shivering down my spine

until it becomes a part of me

I walk through the almost-fire,

the heat that chases me until I look right at it

and under these swollen memories I step

and I forget you.

somehow

I forget.

Georgia stole the drugs in the glovebox

and traded them for passage. I don't
remember Texas. I barely remember
you.

There was a café at the end of the road

where the patio trickled onto the sidewalk

and umbrellas opened like snowdrop petals

allowing only splatters of sunlight to decorate the plates

placed in front of posied forks and clinking glasses.

At noon we sat with people sipping rosé

and nibbling the edges of pastries:

you with your cupcake, I with my

tart. Your mouth full of mischief, you spoke

with your hands to clear my head and

there was something like sweetness

on your fingers. Words sifted between your eyes and 

a token of my innocence saw the sun

when icing stuck to your bottom lip. 

I barely noticed the tremor in your fingers

when you raised your glass to toast the afternoon or

the acidic taste of the powder I wiped off your nose with my thumb.

Tell them we died

in late evening while the band still lingered

over their cocktails
and rhythms slid like molasses
over moon-tanned shoulders and under stilettos.

Lilacs wafted from her hair as she tapped a heel.
I imagined what my mother would say
and I suppose we gathered glances
like some do sea shells
and held them just as tightly.

Un aplauso a
Todo eso que vive
Entre, tu mente y tu boca, y 
Que nunca llega a salir
Esos momentos tuyos
Que tuyos se han de quedar
Hasta dejar de existir

Eso que habita la mente en forma de recuerdo,
De furtivos momentos escondidos en la normalidad
Detrás de un "nada" hay toda una vida en un instante
Un instante de vida oculta y presa
Entre tu memoria y tu boca

Sometimes I go back to that place.

The one I

love

love

hate.

Where I stood

in the sand

in the moss

in the grass

scattered with candy wrappers.

Where she left me

in the dark

and left herself again.

Where I was made

and everything broke.

Sometimes I go back to when

they would splash so I could hear them,

barely above water,

from where I stood in that lake

my feet on the ground.

I don’t want to leave the ground.

I should have left the ground that night.

The night I could not

love her and

keep her safe.

But in my head I’m still under four feet tall

and the water closes over my head

the diving board is

miles away.

I can’t tell how much I’m willing to give.

Drowning doesn’t seem real

until you want me to make it out there

and I am gasping as my mouth fills with

possible endings instead of air.

I run too fast when things get real,

treading water in time.

I swam out to the dock

for you.