More

Ever since we became lovers

Now that we’ve transitioned to friends

I want more out of everything that surrounds me.

I want the rush of life in every moment to sustain …

Even the longing more rich, vibrant and alive…filled with the purpose of exposing.

I am enough and still I want

More….

More from this existence and these quiet little rooms.

I want to make love to strangers

I want to stare in to the expanse of sky and somehow

Become

Amongst stars and stray cats

More than the lessons left to be learned

Or the moments lined up one after the other

More than the hunger and it’s reprieve

I want more than those moments when you held me down

And we bled into one another again and again.

I want this world to hold me down and fuck me

Make love to me like I am the majestic sky.

To stop dreaming of the end where my heart stops

and

I never have to wake up again

Instead to experience this passion and delight

In something so simple as these roses in their vase

Free of charge from the grocery

or

The dictionary open on the kitchen table…

The way my pajama shirt falls off my left shoulder

The crumpled orange wool scarf under the low light of the lamp

Curtain pulled to street light and I know the sky out there

And I am filled

With the longing for more.

 

Ancient remains

Your shadow come to meet me.
Chemistry seeking seed
Hold me down in ancient remains
Of fire in my Celtic home.
Bones beneath surface whispering….
Unearthed and gasping for air.
The naïveté that comes with being human
Comes from living inside skin.
Our guides thru the underworld and
Path to “God”.

 

Tangled bodies and freshly painted walls

2am
Kettle groaning in the low light…
The smell of coffee.
Journal, unfinished letters, school books and toast.
Photographs from the kitchen cupboard
The images of who we once were…..
Going away parties…..
New York, Dublin, Lansing, Wilmington, Northern Spain.
Long past love we arrive at more than the
Sum of these stories ……
Lana in my childhood home….
Decades before her death
Never looking in to the camera,
Smiling shyly in her Cure t-shirt.
Christie with her big sunglasses
Hood tied tight round her face
Protecting her porcelin skin from sun and wind….on the ferry
On Lake Huron….
Years before her overdose.
Liz cringing unsure if the smug Mags is hitting on her in the Voodoo Lounge
All of us drunk as this is how we used to say good bye.
Sudden adult death syndrome….in her mother’s home.
After she stayed with me in San Francisco….and made a go of it
In the city of love.
Simon and I with the green of Ireland in the back ground on the verge of falling.
Erin and I … Michael and I….Meggen and I…..always in love.
The kind that never leaves…..requires no words and reminds me
Of who I am.
Simple and honest and striving toward
An uncomplicated route through the inescapable chaos
Of Loving.
Tangled bodies and freshly painted walls.
We become willing to be free.

 

Juxtapositions Insisting

These juxtapositions insisting…..

Spacious apartment….. and texts from mother

“She…….arrested for shoplifting 6 times in Walmart with ___”

New Mexico skies leading to the rediscovery of stars

pushing thru darkness.

Dance alone; kettle squeeling;

A language that looks like angelic writhing.

Every morning……. wake,greet the four directions

pull back the blinds.

Look out on to low income housing,rattle of garbage truck,radios

with Latin music starting low in the distance like a memory

once faded speeds its way down Quapaw painting a picture

of morning and work,family and all the coulors of culture

until if drifts…ghosts and echoes.

I can see the sparks flying from their bones

Heels dragging on street,hands firm on bumpers.

A watercolour of mountains on my refrigerator next to the list

of writers to perform at the Lensic this year.

The tension building 1700 miles away.

Letter stamped and addressed but never sent;

He incarcerated and shitting blood…..

Released near his 43 birthday

I go to therapy,do yoga, study the theories of men on the mind and the human condition.

Sit with windows and door open.. mesmerized

as the sun reflects off the glass table,the wind reminds me how wild

and soothing chaos feels…

and the trees

there are no words for their protection,humor and care.

Press my feet in shoes that push into the dirt of all that surrounds me.

Dust and dried sweat on clothes and skin…..

Mountains expanding consciousness and explaining kin rise before me.

 

 

 

 

Rain….sometimes question

Rain:
Sometimes Question
Sometimes Statement
Often
Request.
Silence
Offering yellow finches
A stage
made of sky and green.

Invited to an artist salon:
Stand to be witnessed.
Words spill from gut
Heart pounds
Dismantle
defenses
One swathe at a time
Stand naked
Stop only when nothing left can safely be removed.
Could skin be
Removed
rib cage
Revealed
Would I reach in thru organs?
Bones holding bones?
Holding heart in hand out stretched
Then maybe I could express
What I am trying to find
To leave behind.
Explain
How
You
Are in that body
And
I am
In this.

The only thing better than silence
Is someone to share it with.