forgetting you is not working
your face shows up in my coffee
so I suffer cup after cup in silence
with my memories and shaking hands
your shadow etched itself on my ceiling
there you drift at night discrediting my new lovers
mocking their steaming skin
your name on the tip of my tongue
confusing my orgasms
I can forget you for a time
if there be ocean and sand
jelly fish and tides
when you be far off in the distance
an island I cannot travel towards
me on the shore
waving good bye to the war between us
I can move away from you
with the ocean in my face
the salt in my eyes
remembering my gills and scales
releasing the weight of you
I can forget you at the ocean
but in rush hour traffic
you return road rage
a balled fist in my throat
an articulated fuck you
held hostage in the roof of my mouth
eyes everywhere at once looking for the exit
a way to make the lies stop
changing lanes to the tune of your mood
no signals
just acceleration
all the things I loved about you
I still love
so I question if I even know what love means
I mean is it love
when someone accordions you
into every success they’ve never had
Is it love
if they can only love you behind closet doors
is it love
when you make me feel clean and filthy
between blinks
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Monday, November 18, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Caution Tape and Anchors 10/30
Their tongues don't frighten me
I have known tongues that lie and linger
tongues that flap and roll
wave and wag
some of those tongues
only pretend to care
as they lick the salt
from my skin
I have no patience for mundane
it is not my style
I love the flash and sink
lift anchor and sail away rough waters
things or ideas and sometimes people
fail to move me to magic
they are sometimes dismissed
gently
move along there is nothing to see here
These hips have known hands
calloused
smooth
trembling
grab on hold tight
enjoy the roll and wiggle
navigate the waves
it will make sense in the morning
or it won't
there is no fear here
only tongues
and moving magic
and these hips
come closer
don't worry I don't bite
hard
unless you like that sort of thing
I have known tongues that lie and linger
tongues that flap and roll
wave and wag
some of those tongues
only pretend to care
as they lick the salt
from my skin
I have no patience for mundane
it is not my style
I love the flash and sink
lift anchor and sail away rough waters
things or ideas and sometimes people
fail to move me to magic
they are sometimes dismissed
gently
move along there is nothing to see here
These hips have known hands
calloused
smooth
trembling
grab on hold tight
enjoy the roll and wiggle
navigate the waves
it will make sense in the morning
or it won't
there is no fear here
only tongues
and moving magic
and these hips
come closer
don't worry I don't bite
hard
unless you like that sort of thing
Friday, September 06, 2013
Everyone Tells The Truth.?
There is a conversation happening on the book of face that I want to comment on but I won't because there seems to be this whole I'm right culture happening there. I know I am not always right I kind of assume others know this as well. They don't.
I remember when I was 17, there was this guy I had an on again off again thing with. It was strange. We kind of hated each other and argued constantly but then would find ourselves making wild crazy love on someone’s floor, or kitchen counter, or in the driveway. The relationship confused us both but, well, there we were. I tried really hard not to sleep with him when he and his girlfriend were together, but they broke up and got together again a lot, sometimes there was crossover.
As we approached spring break that year I was about to turn 18, they broke up again. This time it felt like it was for good. He said he was sick of the back and forth and I said I didn't care because we were not friends. We were just two people who fought a lot and had sex occasionally and sometimes a lot. They got back together after a day or two and were supposed to take this trip together over spring break.
She went with someone else. Now, to say that my not friend was pissed, would be an understatement. He paid for the trip and he wanted his money back. He fumed for days. At some time during the course of the week my dad talked to him, my friend Bridget's dad talked to him, and his dad talked to him. Basically they said, this was a sign to let that go. Let her, the money and everything go.
When school started back he ignored her. A few days in she apologized and suggested they start over. He said he wasn’t interested. She made a scene in the cafeteria, which was humiliating and embarrassing for everyone who was forced to witness it. Then she cried and begged and a host of other equally embarrassing things. That weekend there were several parties. We saw each other at one and left because we could feel drama trying to happening. We ended up back at my house. We drank Milwaukee’s Best (worst idea ever) to the point that my people were like you should stay on the couch tonight call your mom. When he called home, (this is before cell phones), his mother told him that the police were looking for him. His on again off again had called the police and said he beat and raped her at the party. We left the party before she even got there.
All that to say I never question in my heart when anyone says they have been assaulted, raped or attacked in any way. No one has the right to harm another.
I also can’t UN-know his story and I shudder to think what would have happened to this boy I barely liked had he not had an alibi that night.
I remember when I was 17, there was this guy I had an on again off again thing with. It was strange. We kind of hated each other and argued constantly but then would find ourselves making wild crazy love on someone’s floor, or kitchen counter, or in the driveway. The relationship confused us both but, well, there we were. I tried really hard not to sleep with him when he and his girlfriend were together, but they broke up and got together again a lot, sometimes there was crossover.
As we approached spring break that year I was about to turn 18, they broke up again. This time it felt like it was for good. He said he was sick of the back and forth and I said I didn't care because we were not friends. We were just two people who fought a lot and had sex occasionally and sometimes a lot. They got back together after a day or two and were supposed to take this trip together over spring break.
She went with someone else. Now, to say that my not friend was pissed, would be an understatement. He paid for the trip and he wanted his money back. He fumed for days. At some time during the course of the week my dad talked to him, my friend Bridget's dad talked to him, and his dad talked to him. Basically they said, this was a sign to let that go. Let her, the money and everything go.
When school started back he ignored her. A few days in she apologized and suggested they start over. He said he wasn’t interested. She made a scene in the cafeteria, which was humiliating and embarrassing for everyone who was forced to witness it. Then she cried and begged and a host of other equally embarrassing things. That weekend there were several parties. We saw each other at one and left because we could feel drama trying to happening. We ended up back at my house. We drank Milwaukee’s Best (worst idea ever) to the point that my people were like you should stay on the couch tonight call your mom. When he called home, (this is before cell phones), his mother told him that the police were looking for him. His on again off again had called the police and said he beat and raped her at the party. We left the party before she even got there.
All that to say I never question in my heart when anyone says they have been assaulted, raped or attacked in any way. No one has the right to harm another.
I also can’t UN-know his story and I shudder to think what would have happened to this boy I barely liked had he not had an alibi that night.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
On Holding Your Tongue
On Holding Your Tongue
She thinks she remembers the way the girls hands hovered.
She wanted to know the touch of them. Wanted to feel fingers
massaging her memories back to before she forgot
to pay attention. Bit her lips pretended it was the girls kiss.
Morning on the other side of I miss you is not her happy place.
On those mornings she sleepwalks her way to forgiveness
gets stuck in regret and barely manages to keep her bones
above quicksand. She checks her pockets. Finds her tongue
attempts to re-anchor it so she can finally speak. It’s a bad fit.
Falls to the floor. She can’t remember the last time beauty
made her jaw drop.
The girl with the hovering hands wore an apprehensive smile.
Mona Lisa, but darker. The girl held secrets between her thighs
and sometimes when they shared she knew everything.
She would float sometimes, the girl with hovering hands,
hold clouds between her teeth. She would blow kisses
over her right shoulder. She thinks she remembers catching
those kisses. Placing them in her pocket right next to her tongue
promising to blow them back to the girl once she figured out
how to disguise blood spatter.
She thinks she remembers why things failed. The girl with
the apprehensive smile never knew that she cut out her tongue
so she’d never say anything to drive her away. So the girl,
her hands and her smile mistook silence for disinterest
instead of the adoration it was born to be. She thinks she
remembers trying to speak. No sound came.
Midnight on the other side of I miss you is failing moonlight
and false memories. Those nights she roams an empty house
checking the corners for hovering hands. She collects the dust she finds
sprinkles it on her open wound heart and hopes for concrete. She fumbles
with sewing needles and razor wire trying to stitch back her tongue
so she can finally say what she feels unafraid of letting the blood show.
She thinks she won’t forget this time because she can’t remember
She thinks she remembers the way the girls hands hovered.
She wanted to know the touch of them. Wanted to feel fingers
massaging her memories back to before she forgot
to pay attention. Bit her lips pretended it was the girls kiss.
Morning on the other side of I miss you is not her happy place.
On those mornings she sleepwalks her way to forgiveness
gets stuck in regret and barely manages to keep her bones
above quicksand. She checks her pockets. Finds her tongue
attempts to re-anchor it so she can finally speak. It’s a bad fit.
Falls to the floor. She can’t remember the last time beauty
made her jaw drop.
The girl with the hovering hands wore an apprehensive smile.
Mona Lisa, but darker. The girl held secrets between her thighs
and sometimes when they shared she knew everything.
She would float sometimes, the girl with hovering hands,
hold clouds between her teeth. She would blow kisses
over her right shoulder. She thinks she remembers catching
those kisses. Placing them in her pocket right next to her tongue
promising to blow them back to the girl once she figured out
how to disguise blood spatter.
She thinks she remembers why things failed. The girl with
the apprehensive smile never knew that she cut out her tongue
so she’d never say anything to drive her away. So the girl,
her hands and her smile mistook silence for disinterest
instead of the adoration it was born to be. She thinks she
remembers trying to speak. No sound came.
Midnight on the other side of I miss you is failing moonlight
and false memories. Those nights she roams an empty house
checking the corners for hovering hands. She collects the dust she finds
sprinkles it on her open wound heart and hopes for concrete. She fumbles
with sewing needles and razor wire trying to stitch back her tongue
so she can finally say what she feels unafraid of letting the blood show.
She thinks she won’t forget this time because she can’t remember
Thursday, November 03, 2011
November 30/30 #1
Saturday Night Live
We often squatted there.
The bed just a queen but we all fit so it feels king sized.
Family time in the room with the biggest television
happened nearly every Saturday night.
Tonight, Michael Jackson and Diana Ross will be singing to us.
A special night. We get to stay up late.
My sister worries a loose tooth.
It is so loose that it moves whenever she takes a breath.
In and out it wiggles there like a threat.
My brothers play checkers on one edge of the bed.
The younger brother lives for the triple jump.
"King me!" he yells wanting everyone to know of his victory.
They've been playing all day.
He hasn't won a single game.
He wears hope like a Boy Scout badge.
His eyes are glazed, he will fall asleep before the game is over.
The boyfriend soon to be father begs the younger daughter
with the loose tooth to let him pull it out.
She screams like she is on fire.
The older daughter reads Tiger Beat magazine
waiting for her future husband Michael
to smile at her from the glow of the television screen.
Soon she will be old enough to marry.
He will see her and fall in love.
He will, as long as Diana is not around.
The older brother leaves the room for a potty break.
When he returns the younger brother has fallen asleep fingers on his king.
The younger daughter with the loose tooth has also fallen asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father taps the older sister on the shoulder.
Places a finger across his lips, points at the sleeping girl.
He pulls the tooth so easily the girl never moves.
The older daughter, older brother, mom and boyfriend soon to be father
giggle behind their palms.
Michael and Diana are singing now.
The older daughter has tears in her eyes.
She wishes Diana would stop touching her one day husband.
The younger daughter stirs. She wakes.
She staggers to the bathroom for a potty break.
The toilet flushes she turns on the faucet to wash her hands.
She screams like she is on fire.
Grabs at her throat.
Says she swallowed her tooth and now the tooth fairy won't come
and she thinks she's going to die.
The younger brother jerks awake.
Fingers still clutched around the checkers.
He takes a triple jump.
Declares himself the winner and falls back asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father grabs up the younger sister.
Shows her her tooth.
She smiles a shaky smile. Thanks god she is not going to die.
Demands to be tucked in for bed.
She doesn't want to piss the tooth fairy off by making her wait.
The older boy puts the checkers in the box. He puts the game away.
He wakes the younger brother. He will deposit him on the lower bunk
Before he climbs to the top.
The older daughter kisses Michael goodnight.
There are six posters of him on the walls of her bedroom.
His face is kissing level on each.
She sleeps with Tiger Beat under her pillow.
Thoughts of MJ dancing in her head.
The mother and the boyfriend soon to be father
tidy up and ready themselves to do what grown folks do in the dark.
The house is quiet again.
Another Saturday night put to bed.
We often squatted there.
The bed just a queen but we all fit so it feels king sized.
Family time in the room with the biggest television
happened nearly every Saturday night.
Tonight, Michael Jackson and Diana Ross will be singing to us.
A special night. We get to stay up late.
My sister worries a loose tooth.
It is so loose that it moves whenever she takes a breath.
In and out it wiggles there like a threat.
My brothers play checkers on one edge of the bed.
The younger brother lives for the triple jump.
"King me!" he yells wanting everyone to know of his victory.
They've been playing all day.
He hasn't won a single game.
He wears hope like a Boy Scout badge.
His eyes are glazed, he will fall asleep before the game is over.
The boyfriend soon to be father begs the younger daughter
with the loose tooth to let him pull it out.
She screams like she is on fire.
The older daughter reads Tiger Beat magazine
waiting for her future husband Michael
to smile at her from the glow of the television screen.
Soon she will be old enough to marry.
He will see her and fall in love.
He will, as long as Diana is not around.
The older brother leaves the room for a potty break.
When he returns the younger brother has fallen asleep fingers on his king.
The younger daughter with the loose tooth has also fallen asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father taps the older sister on the shoulder.
Places a finger across his lips, points at the sleeping girl.
He pulls the tooth so easily the girl never moves.
The older daughter, older brother, mom and boyfriend soon to be father
giggle behind their palms.
Michael and Diana are singing now.
The older daughter has tears in her eyes.
She wishes Diana would stop touching her one day husband.
The younger daughter stirs. She wakes.
She staggers to the bathroom for a potty break.
The toilet flushes she turns on the faucet to wash her hands.
She screams like she is on fire.
Grabs at her throat.
Says she swallowed her tooth and now the tooth fairy won't come
and she thinks she's going to die.
The younger brother jerks awake.
Fingers still clutched around the checkers.
He takes a triple jump.
Declares himself the winner and falls back asleep.
The boyfriend soon to be father grabs up the younger sister.
Shows her her tooth.
She smiles a shaky smile. Thanks god she is not going to die.
Demands to be tucked in for bed.
She doesn't want to piss the tooth fairy off by making her wait.
The older boy puts the checkers in the box. He puts the game away.
He wakes the younger brother. He will deposit him on the lower bunk
Before he climbs to the top.
The older daughter kisses Michael goodnight.
There are six posters of him on the walls of her bedroom.
His face is kissing level on each.
She sleeps with Tiger Beat under her pillow.
Thoughts of MJ dancing in her head.
The mother and the boyfriend soon to be father
tidy up and ready themselves to do what grown folks do in the dark.
The house is quiet again.
Another Saturday night put to bed.
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