A Poem In Need of a Name

Wrote this last Friday for a friend. I'm officially taking suggestions for a title.


Wand'ring One, Restless Soul-
despair at your heels
countless paths at your feet
flash neon lights,
confuse and confound
dazzling, but which will
lead where you go?

Searching Mind, read,
study, explore
You who hear cries of
the promise of truth
yet see each lair
where hate and despair
lie in wait to ensnare
what Truth would set free

Seeking Heart, your path
may wind and meander
despair will pursue,
oft'times you'll trudge on
alone
misery may be yours,
restlessness drive you on.
restlessness is your hope
relentlessly
driving you on
seeking
where you belong
seeking
you
shall find
home

Refugees

too many
have to go
they've been told
but where
they are too many
no place can take them
remaining unmarked

too crowded
have to go
trapped
try to escape
try to be free
silence reigns
wrestling, shrieking
silence
pressure-cooker
volcanic silence
waiting to erupt-
stream refugees

words
too many
too crowded
have to go
but where
who can hear
who will bear
this rush of refugee
words

...and Goodbye at the End

goodbye is the story
we know
oh yes, we know
goodbye
stole my words
pierced my heart
left me hollow
-can i scream yet?-
watch me detach
wax philosophical
i'm fine, i'm fine
screaming from
that hollow space
there were dreams
there was love
and i was rich
but goodbye
in the end
someone turned out the sun
am i in the desert?
is the desert in me?-
or are we the same?
i can't tell anymore
the path disappeared
with goodbye

Suspended

mired in fear
grasping, clutching
holding on in desperation to
something i cannot keep
a story interrupted
a dream suspended
please
let me fall asleep again
please
write another chapter
or twenty
please
help me let go
open these hands
open this heart
help me trust
don't leave me here
don't ask me to walk
alone

One Word

She was a dreamer
once
living life
making plans-
dreaming
One word
and the dreamer fell
asleep
One word
repeated for years
and years passed
as a dream
while dreams fell
to dust
One word
brought dust to life
brought dreams to light
One word
repeated, awakens
dreamers to dream
once again

A Song

I'm gonna write about today, but not just yet.

For now, I'll just link you to a song that a friend gave me on cd today. The words (most of them) were... vaguely familiar to me.

I knew this was coming. I'd given her permission to do this, and she'd played it for me before, but today it came.

A Lament, or Psalm 88 Spider Version

where are you, God?
have you forgotten me?
here I am at the edge
of this abyss you led me to
running out of time
running out of hope
if there ever was any
calling to you
hearing only silence
WHERE ARE YOU?
why am i here, staring
into this chasm of despair
counting my future in days
how many more chapters
in this story of loss
can you hear the screaming?
what did i do to call down
this destruction
or is this your sovereignty
has my whole life been the pawn
for your sovereignty
my ears are filled with the voices of
Job's friends
my eyes are red from too many tears
you "own the cattle on a thousand hills"
and i'm about to lose my home
you say we need community
then drag my closest friend around the world
again
i am broken and desperate
i've done all i can
only you can save me from this nightmare
so do something, already

z00m! z00m!

The Queen of frugality
(And functionality)
Gardens for sanity
Loves pomegranat-e
Dark chocolate affinity
Contemplates alkalinity
A chef and a namer
Sudoku tamer
A special chat friend
The pirate called Enz

Enz, I wish you the happiest of happy birthdays! I prescribe chocolate. And strawberries. (Goodness knows you have plenty strawberries!) And remember that turning [censored] doesn't mean you're old! If you say otherwise, I shall respond with an emphatic phbbbbbbt!

And you'll be pleased to know that this birthday z00m didn't cost me a cent.

To the two or three who might see this who don't know Enz, you are truly missing out. She is brilliant and witty and creative and kind and thoughtful and snarky as anything, and she's a real joy to have as a friend. Ok, that sounds snarky, but it isn't meant to be.

Enz, happy birthday.

--spidey

Open 'Til 11

In my pj's, I
went to BN at nine-thirty
it's new, it's two
blocks away at the mall and
all that I need
is something to read
to the kids
for National Poetry Month
and accreditation(!) this week
so I found a Shel
and Prelutsky
and a discount
for being a teacher
which I'm not, but
I guess librarians count

No Words

for RG

my Friend,
words are weak,
i know
no words
can dry these tears
no words
can lessen Grief's
tyranny
no words,
then
will i speak, but know
in the silence
i stand with you

-me

Exfoliation

what she called progress
i call exfoliation
my soul still raw
two days since
raw as layers disappear
as with sandpaper and
weight
on my
lungs
i
can't
breathe
prayer beads stop panic
Jesus, save me
Fauré brings me back
breathing returns
how many layers?
how far through hell
must i walk
before i find
the me i'm meant to be?

Happy Hour

Walk across the street
In the rain
One basket of chips
with salsa zing!
White Russian,
Two chicken tamales
Glass of water
B52 Coffee
-man that was good!-
Steak taco
Robert Frost for company
-also good-
Lord of the Rings in my ears
-very good-
Home before dark
Slightly tipsy

Ted

On the second of March in 1904
A baby was born by the name Theodore
As little boys do, he grew and he grew
And while he grew, he usually drew
Wockets and Sneetches and butter battles
And Bartholomew Cubbins's 500 hat-tles
Horton and Thidwick and Sam-I-Am too
The Grinch, his dog Max, and Cindy Lou Who
He drew cats in hats and foxes in socks
He drew ham and green eggs served in a box
A genius and hero in his century
Mixing his lessons with colorful whimsy
While Whoville enjoys cookies and moo juice
Sam wants to say Happy Birthday, Dr. Suess!

One book, Two book, Red book, Who book

Dark Waters

she walks through her life
as in a haze
alternating silence and chaos
in that cave she lives
and dies each day
apart
from the world she inhabits
she is convenient
visible on demand
then quietly
retreating again
then

voluntary isolation
she finds tension
where none exists
or none should be
and pushes away
what shreds remain of
her heart

there is no lower
for her to sink
no further from love
could she feel
no words can she find
to speak of these
dark waters that drown

by me

Say Cheese!

To Mark...

This day you hold
a rare gift
Future
Unknown finds itself
a little smaller

with t-shirt and beer
and liturgical shoes
(without facial hair)
you begin
great journeys await

somewhere ages hence
some village bard, cowboy poet,
or scurvy scalliwag
will tell his friends of
the Grand Adventures
of Nerd the Cheese Man