the gray side « Filling a Hole

There Is Forward Motion

February 26th, 2012 § 2 Comments

Please promise
An end to
Crybaby poetry
The get-to-know-me
Lovers ode
The ain’t-I-special
Serenade, morbid
And lost.
What’s after? And
When it stung,
even when it stung, I knew.
Daddy was right.
I’d write out My shit some day.
Maturing poetess.
Then what?

Obligated To the Surface

November 27th, 2011 § 5 Comments

as if

writing about one’s feelings was

pampering, curmudgeon

glad most time still

gray side

Mislaid II

November 10th, 2011 § 5 Comments

got out

all my ugly

what do I write about

now? pretty words

move me

not so

passionately

Ocean Poem: Revision

August 27th, 2011 § 3 Comments

On the open carpet floor
Gentle narrow timber roar
Ocean water all the more
On the sandy carpet.

You are waiting. You are seen.
Can’t help but wonder what you mean.
When how you dream is not to dream.
You are waiting, but not.

Harp and limber wakeful tree
Harp and limber, let me be.
When old graybeard curls his sea.
And grants this favor, cover.

ForthBrought Baby C

July 8th, 2011 § 8 Comments

Marigold swell
Garden sun
Uncrease

Push or
Crush against

Don’t stop
Wax

Don’t puff
Gracious helio-

Plight one’s troth
Of seed next mound

Pluckin’ robbin’
Promise of firm stemma
Covenant of God
Make me no garnish,
No garish bouquet of
Dying waste
Green bedchamber

In
Out
In
Out

know
Care of such
Miracles
Make prickly
Misnomers where
Odds increase
Cumulus dashes across the sun
Wrinkle and puff, pass up
To space

Was it you watching?
Dried peach dehiscence
For a gray wolf
Winnowing morpheme
With recall of virgin catharsis

At home in the rockiest
Of gardens
Run amok with
Wishes of a deathly morrow.

What has you reaching
For sun
Magic sun
Food for green brothers

Gray wolf
Is a secret

Dogs and Cats

June 1st, 2011 § 8 Comments

New York City Baby
How hifalooting
An inconsistent
Heart race
‘Round the track
Enigma cum Charlatan
I believe the tricks
Before my eyes
Middle of dawn’s night
Raise your head
I will not imagine grey
Curls on soft breast
Nor sad smile lift
Curving of cleavage
Designed to meet
Fevered cheeks
Hectic with fear of death

I’m a cat-person anyway.

Rainsong

May 24th, 2011 § 4 Comments

Lucky worms.

know
When called
To the surface.

Rainsong
Discover me

Increased pounding
Muddy leverage
Quench is a matter
Of some debate
If no one appears
tears
Will crack if
No one appears
fears
Will thunder if
No one appears

I will still be quietly
Victorious.