lost

we sat under the almost full moon
and together we mourned the thing we never got to have
selfish
sad
i dreamed last night of gerry chopping bananas on a black towel in a tiny room
learning to separate my longing from myself
walk home alone
and allow myself to cry
for broken hearts

fly

what was true yesterday may not be today
but we let it stand
wash this bitter taste out of my mouth
with orange juice and dreams

my mom turned 75 today
she has a new love interest
he's ten years younger, and married
apples...trees...falling...
and it seems that him not calling sucks as much at 75 as it does at 35 as it does at 15

i am afraid of mice (they have returned)
on monday i will have to tell him that the girl he tried to kill no longer exists
on friday i will have to tell him that i chose (and choose again) not to live his life
it doesn't matter if it's real if it doesn't work
alias
hidden
you find out who really loved you when you see who forgets you (or not)

living means not writing,
means sleeping and remembering and hoping that this will be the one

crash

i can't decide what's worse - when stupid people think i suck or when smart people do
no, that's not it
i hate stupid people
a little venom to close out this evening
thank you, and good night

sunday afternoon

it never happens like you think it's going to

gritty neighbourhoods

It is eternity now; I am in the midst of it. It is about me in the sunshine; I am in it, as the butterfly in the light-laden air. Nothing has to come; it is now. Now is eternity; now is immortal life.

- Richard Jefferies

more bold than me

after a moment of truth, even if it's only true for a moment,
everything changes
sometimes the gift is also a burden

the first boy i ever kissed
shares a name with the one who said the words
i have waited my whole life to hear

(it now begins and ends with other invitations that i no longer desire)
keep the pilot lights on for
good
enough

in the stories, every hero has a weakness that leads to his demise
poets will be mine

the ghosts of commuters

there's not much to see when you ride the train in the dark

isn't it ironic

i miss a time when it was okay for things just to be beautiful and sincere
the pendulum is swinging...

don't feel much like talking

and musicians (especially drummers) and boys from london are a pain in my ass.

tired, a green notebook full of little stories from last week, feeling sick from eating mostly pie for days.

finally no longer hanging on to any of it
a tally for me, to mark this time

i see the remains of that place
the edges, the shadow of who we used to be
i told him he was free to ride, but he lingers
breaking down, she taunts him, the fool
another returns,
he stands by the gate, the flare of danger but only when i hear his voice
round the side, but first a vision of scarred youth, of perfection lost before it ever got a chance
i will break his heart
back to the river, i no longer want him to stay
i have left them to float downstream, to a place forgotten unseen
pause for one who is not even one,
how light in the dark can change our minds
who remains?
my friend under the tree who returns a shell
the one who gave my life to another, and left me only with mountains and fears
he brings me a painting of the moon in exchange, but it will be too big to keep inside
and three more
i mail him my love packed amongst letters and unfinished chores
to the moors, to the hills, we will hide and pretend
nostalgic (as i said to him) for a time when my credit cards felt like lottery winnings
still one
still here
still friends
and all

the saddest poem in the world

.
.
.
It is kinder not to love when you know love has no future.

Our poor dog keeps on whining, enough to drive us to madness,
with his paws scratching now on your door, now on my door.
I no longer love you; for that I do not ask forgiveness.
I did love you; that is what I ask forgiveness for.

- Yevgeny Yevtushenko

fantasy gardening

Once people are broken in certain ways, they can't ever be fixed, and this is something nobody tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see the people in your life break one by one. You wonder when your turn is going to be, or if it's already happened.

- Douglas Coupland

he will never find me

I'd like to say goodbye
You can't really say good-bye to those kinds of things
You carry them with you wherever you go
Likes ducks in the snow that quack as they go
The Wind blows back discarded trash

I'd like to say goodbye
I feel that I must say goodbye to everyone
Though I love them so
I love them all
I feel that if I said goodbye to them
I could say goodbye to a me I do not like
A horrible, nasty me which I despise

I'd like to say goodbye
I feel I must say goodbye to dreams
Empty and hollow though charming maybe
I feel that I must say goodbye to things
Maybe I could just sneak out the back door and say see you later
And never come back again

You can't really say good-bye to those kinds of things
You carry them with you wherever you go
Likes ducks in the snow that quack as they go
The wind blows back discarded trash

- Daniel Johnston

sleep all day

the weather report said "light rain" so i didn't bring my umbrella
flights of angels and rest for my loves

no one's coming

periods, check.
(this is not a post about hockey, though we watched some the other night)
three genres of film: zombie, violent and silly
i'm so in love with you...
done all my wondering
it's an odd kind of calm
sometimes you've read enough to know how the story ends
no need to finish the book
take off the armour, he's so small
our secret wishes reveal themselves while we sleep
send them all away
i will wait (for nothing)