At home, with his soliloquies, His fantasies, his memories, His thoughts about disparities, The youth he’s seen destroyed — He struggles to find meaning in The flow he’s intervening in By screening in, and leaning in And typing to the void — For what is self-esteem but this? To find and hit what seems amiss, …
Continue reading "Non-Conversations"
She soaks in the sun And drinks in the time: Just a little bit of space, And a little slice of lime Like a glint in the blue Or a book on a shelf, She needs no other To be Herself
She dreams within a written world Of all she could take in and be; A vision calm, cerulean Along a shore in Tuscany The written world, in which she finds Adventure, romance, and an end To all of her anxieties And scars that never really seem To mend
She spreads her arms to hug the world; It glances, then it passes by. Her open heart has many wounds From slights and cruelty's goodbye And meanness to a loving soul. But she won't choose a different fate: For love is all she really knows And she will not cave in To hate
He never took to village life: The small-town quiet drove him sane, Like nails across a chalkboard scraped, The pastoral his very bane, His nemesis, his enemy -- This maladapted city boy Who found himself among the peace That robs him of the chaos: All his joy
An old, old piece.
She first escaped at twenty-three. A bicycle, a battered van, A life that she could taste, because She sampled it, at her own pace and where. She felt the wind upon her neck, And her own tongue within her mouth, The ache of stretching, working limbs That carried her the whither she would go. A …
Continue reading "“The Thing in Itself”"
she swallowed silence as a child -- fed it, daily, as a rule -- this was all she ever knew: friends, and family, and school. hers, a place to watch and serve; hers, a role to be the dream until the swallowed silence built into a long, unbroken scream
she tells me that she loves the day, the feel of sunlight on her skin, the energy within each breath she tells me she tells me and i sit marveling in thought outside myself within that mind are still more levels still more depth and wondering and wondering i watch as she her day attends …
Continue reading "Yenay (i)"