in my own bed
my head covered by the familiar
flap of sheet
blanket nestled in the intrusive
banter of vegetative TV
dressing table
closet boring but necessary
silence
and occasions of needing
no words sometimes
words spoken shatter the fragile survival
slow swishing september-like in March
making mention of moons
madness and visions remembered after sleep
dreams really
washed in water
and wet by hope harried and humorless
arrive
ahead of schedule
wish you could be here today
tomorrow
but days have the cruel habit
of passing
whether we will them or not
so hot on the heels of my desire
you will be here
bags deposited on my livingroom floors
scrubbed clean
wooden
not the soft blue shag where we first kissed in America
such a long time ago now
we been lovers for a long time
love
everyday is different
but similar like food not tasted for years
then comes the saliva of curry
stewed
chicken goat bacon
how I ached for bacon
when I was vegetarian
but I am here
buried in my own sheets
bedroom almost clear of papers
reciepts
and such paraphernalia of travel
magnets on refridgerator
normal I feel normal today
same time as the time on my night-table
sleep is sporadic and drugged
long hours or not at all
I wake up
thinking of you
how we have changed
if we will still be gentle
tomorrow
a place that never comes
but loves will come and go
friends have a way
of staying regardless of the nature of time
good cronies
plot the geriatric laughter
make the date
on a porch
or a verandah somewhere
only death keeps them from showing up
I plan to be there
cackling irreverent
about the fickle pleasures of youth
wasted on the young
shakespeare was a motherfucking genius
some girl he was
posing as a boy with a dick as effective as a pen
love in these times
require invention
time
space continue to chart distance
and I am here nestled
loathing the world that knocks necessary
silent from here
and just
outside the lip of my door
Staceyann
Posted by staceyann at March 22, 2005 11:11 AMYour milestones
you must love the mile-stones child
can't nothing be better than living wild
when those mile-stones you love those milestones child
inadequate just shouldn't be in our mouths
baby girl been living for a while down south
and her mile-stones she love those mile-stone while
she drop tears that say your name
taste those mile-stones as she makes a path
break bread because life has been something she could always have
as long as she saw the sun the next day
when nothing else was there she sure could laugh
and those mile-stones she has learnded to love them now
she wraps them in something that feels like paper towel(tile)
because she knows that she is a long way from home
Grandma gone lose that casing one day
and then her soul will surely fly away
but for now i loves her smile any way
because inkles of just a bit of my own face
those lips feeled with all i am,all that i was, all that I am going to be someday
and these milestones
we've got to love them child
these milestones we must love them while
our hearts it still believe.
You in inspire me and the best way to give that back is by sending you my sunny days in poems when they come.May you know that you are apart of everything and continue to sing it with your poetry.
Posted by: april at March 27, 2005 02:36 PM