Wednesday, January 30, 2008

ten past midnight

Your words have power just like my own

Time finds my lips carved out of yours

Entwined in tangled blankets and laughter

Your voice can no longer matter

We start out lanky and fumbling

But something else takes over and it overtakes

I feel small buried in your shoulder

Your arms around me feel like the world,

Like the world can no longer find me,

I’ve become small and your arms can cover the ocean

We start out lanky and fumbling

But something takes over and it overtakes

It takes more than silence to calm me

Maybe next time around your kiss will soothe

Tonight it can only lead to overwhelming

Bliss. Smile it away, and I’ll do the same

Love starts out oh so lanky and fumbling

But it takes over and it overtakes

Sunday, January 13, 2008


the night is quiet, everyone else is asleep. she sits still, calm as i balance myself on the arm of the same chair. "we've talked before," i muse, "but why does it seem so different?" disclosure is made so much easier when made behind the mask of distance and networks of telecommunication giants. she sighs and slumps back, closing her eyes hoping perhaps that i won't recognize the anticipation in her stance.

slumber, during the camp-outs, usually comes early after all the strenuous activities. but tonight, with the sky full of dark clouds and the air pierced by the stillness, four spirits found rest elusive. we sat quietlyl together in silence. the other two took out a guitar and strummed melodies nearby.

"how are you ?", i ask, staring straight out, finally finding the balance in my make-shift seat.
"not so hot Dean."
"yeah, i wasn't really asking. wanna talk about it?", i smile, craning my neck around to catch her eye.
"okay," i settle down, planting my feet on the ground in preparation for the tirade that was sure to follow.

"he thinks you're trying to steal me from him. STEAL. direct quote. exact word. copied and pasted off his stupid ego and macho crap. . .
. . . it's true. i have tons of other guy friends and he decides to pick on you. he picks on someone i barely even hang out with in person. someone who's actually considred to be more of his friend than mine. blithering idiot."
"Sam, if i had planned on stealing you from him, i would've done it a long time ago."

"Dean? what?"
"listen, you should really talk to him. i mean, he has to realize that treating you like that is gonna kill your relationship. . .
. . .here. give me your hand. if you grip sand in a fist, like this, it trickles down through the cracks until almost nothing is left. see?
but if you hold it still, keep it open flat up, you lose nothing. you have all the sand you started with. and you can add even more, if you wanted."

she stares and i follow her gaze past the space, past the sand and all it stood for, to the image of our hands touching. she jerks her hand back, dusting it off, searching for something opposite me, anything.
"where are Jake and Sue?"
"over at the cottage playing the guitar."
"let's go over there."
"okay Sam."

"hey Dean, can i sleep on your lap? Jake won't let me use his for a pillow", says Sue in welcome.
"She's too heavy," Jake shrugs continuing to pluck a classic.
"sure Sue. come 'ere"
Sam watches Sue's head on my lap and then looks at me with eyes as mysterious as the night. i smile and she smiles back. nodding over to my lap, i offer her a spot opposite Sue. she smiles and shakes her head.

i continue to look at her, not smiling anymore, feeling everything i wasn't supposed to. i nod, beckoning her. she knows. i know she knows. her eyes search mine for the answers i can't give her. she shakes her head again, refusing the lap and leans her head against my shoulder. her breathing is light as if she were barely there. i keep from looking over at her for fear of finding her gone. she is light and all that is part of her is softness.

i take the courage to finally turn my head and look at her. she sleeps with her mouth open. her eyes move back and forth beneath her eyelids. she doesn't snore. her hair falls across her shoulders, across my shoulders. these are the tiny mementos i can keep. these are all that i can keep of her. when she wakes up in the morning, i won't be beside her. i know that she knows now. i love her. i love her enough to leave in the morning.

Thursday, January 03, 2008


The weather didn't help. She blanks into the screen a while longer and wonders what next to do. The prompt flickers. On. Off. On. Off. The backlight pains her eyes and the almost imperceptible hum of the drive creates a pulsating throb in her forehead. What to do next? There was bound to be something better. Better than just sitting, staring, remembering.

"yes?", a window pops up unexpectedly.

what the hell?

She thinks and replies unsurely, "?"

"you were about to type something in?"

damn pidgin messenger plug-ins.
oh. nothing. 'that's one ugly head shot' wasn't worth the trouble of saying", almost convincing herself with the sentence. Almost with herself. But hopefully completely with him.

"haha. *winks* come on, Stace, i know you better than that."

"pig" Stacy types in, trying to remember what had driven her to think she could talk to him again in the first place.

"how have you been?"

much better. happy. happier. happiest. without you, thank God. in love. he's perfect if you ever ask by the way. nothing like you. okay, maybe a little bit similar. a pain in the ass. funny. impossible. different. he treats me better. like somehow i matter. i'm absolutely happy. most of the time, anyway.
okay. you?"

":)", Kevin keys in.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means i miss you."

"oh . . . right. . .?" i miss you? i miss you. i miss you! say it again. that just doesn't sound right. i miss you. he misses me, he says, like that's enough. is that enough?

"it's been too long"


"haha. touche"


"How's Rod?"

way to go Kevin. you pig. you arrogant motherless swine.

"nothing. forget it."

"i got to go Kev. life and reality beckon."

"okay. . . Stace. . ."

She drags the cursor across the screen to the next window. Stealth settings. Appear permanently offline to Kevin. Her fingers hover for a second. They feel heavy. Not just her fingers but her entire body. As if she had just woken up from a fitful sleep and the covers had become drenched with sweat.

Delete. "Are you sure you want to delete the selected contact from your list?" the window begs. Yes. No. Yes. Why is there never an option that says "maybe"?

January rain begins slowly like tiny memories falling from the mind, travelling across the pane, daunting, shattering on the sill.

Her gaze strays back to the previous window. "Kevin is typing a new message", it warns.

"Are you sure you want to delete the selected contact from your list?" Yes. Click.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008


because life was supposed to be
like taking a stroll, taking a trip, taking a friggin' journey
but it's not

sit back, relax
the tension strains my bones to breaking
enjoy the ride
who can when it turns out to be a race

shooting past the scenery, forgetting the names
straight up
one, two, three, four, five million pieces
making it count. counting instead

it's about time i hit the brakes
stick it to the man
rage against the machine
cash in that first-class ticket

delayed flights aren't so bad after all

Tuesday, January 01, 2008


falling stars. descending slowly, deliberately.
waiting for someone to catch them, for rescue
a knight perhaps, or just someone brave enough
to break the enchantment before they touch water

pixie dust or fairy powder all too soon released
from the hands of an escaping nymph of lore
streaking through the sky, upwards
destined for neverland or somewhere just as forgotten, lost

unnamed glitter-sprinkled arthropods, skittering, trailing down
the length of a deep onyx curtain
highlighting fringes, pleats, at times entire lengths
at times creating a mesmerizing veil of their own

past lovers, shooting up in a moment of ecstasy
broken down, torn apart, brought slowly back to earth
unaware of love having lost its flavor
as it scatters around them, beautiful for that instant but soon gone

droplets of fire and color in which we dance
regressing back to childhood, holding hands
clapping in joy and shouting at the promise of rebirth
a rain of new hope of forgetting, rebuilding and being together

- = happy new year everyone = -