blueimber: (Default)
trying tonight to be myself
under the star'd skies
gazing at the stem of a tall glass of merlot
as if it were a flower
and i only a bug
in some distant city
far away
longing for the petals.

apple, hunting knife
chocolate
bread and fresh cheese
the lullabye of the inspired music
singing to me
oh
what has been in my heart
that i have not given my tongue rest enough
nor my mind
space enough
to say.

"i shall return tomorrow.
and i said fly on my sweet angel
fly on through the sky--"

a toast
((always remembering
in jewish weekending
ninth grade
rocky horror
and my pockets going home
filled with rice
having been hit on the head
with toast
and other goodies handed out
by the bikers
oh what it was to be so young and
not really know anything))

i have seemed melancholy
but
sirs
you must remember remember
all poets are proclaimed liars

in this silent space
and i think of my days spent
and where my footsteps have taken me
and to what ends i have gone

a toast.

to life.
to the life i did not think i would live
to the life that i have
to the lives of those who have touched me
to the lives of those whom i have touched.

to this apple
to this boule
to the new book at my feet
to my radio which knows me so well
to the things i had forgotten i liked
about solitude.

to thinking on my sins.

to the memory of fingertips
lingering lightly above my skin
like a whisper sits upon the stillness of the lakes of morning
i got out of grand central this morning
and like a column of silver brilliance
i was struck by the steele blue of a glance down 43rd street
and for one moment
at my back and within my eyes
i could not tell which was the celestial body of the sun
and which
the luminous illusion
reflected back
a loving mirror.

this summer i
did not get
to go out to
the beach.

one more year and the ocean alludes me.


i have been blessed
not in that
life finds me to be her favorite childe
but that
i could still have hope
after the storm has finished itself
upon me.

i am blessed
that as i have come as an answer
i find too in that
i am answered
i pray for just a small time longer of it
because
i like the touch.

if statements
could somehow be inefficient
at expressing
with true dignity
form
and authority
a feeling
'i like the touch'
would be amoung then the most
destitute
blueimber: (Default)
this weekend promises to bring
the circle closer and back
oh we shall save this ribbon
for a darker day

from out the sad state
of which life presently has placed me
comes a weekend of salvation
at the mercy of boston
and all her salty tea



something convinces men
to not lay down next to me
to not stay after they've had their share
something tells them to leave me
laying alone
bitterly alone

all i want is an arm around me
all i need is to touch and be touched
and all those who have--
are so very far away.

but even those men...
even those boys---







if they love you
why do they leave
before darkness can even
take its prowling stance
why would they abandon me
to the cold and nightmares
to all the things i fear






this feeling---


this feeling....


----------------------------------------------------
he smiles at me from the supper table
as i scrape the last of the breadcrumbs into the trash
it is a silly grin
which exposes his teeth
white tablets with pink gums...
his parted lips, pink too, fleshy..
the smile still says i am hungry
altho i just fed him...

i walk up to where he is sitting in my kitchen
and place his head against my body
i kiss his forehead
and look down into his eyes
and he says he loves me
he doesn't know what he would do without me
but i know what he would do
he would not eat in my kitchen
he would eat in his real girlfriend's kitchen
the one in the house
where he lives
he is not mine
but he says he loves me
and i, alone, am willing to act
to wile away lonely...

his hungry smile
turns into gentle pulling
we tumble to my bed
and no kissing
no touching
almost instantaneous
fucking
fucking
fucking

and he says
"mine"
as he grows inside of me
but he does not follow through
with owning me
he'll not kiss hard enough to mark me his
he'll not press my wrists
nor bruise my skin
he'll not make me unable to live without him...

as soon as he thinks i've had it
as soon as he hears me cry
he lays me down on my back
and like an animal
takes what i do not deny

and then i become less than what i am
when he pulls away from me
and in that moment after
when you're supposed to see the stars...
i am left cold and shaking
alone...

while he washes every trace of me
away from his skin
and makes me feel......
so worthless
so very very worthless.

and i think of what i have known
and i know i don't deserve this
and i think about what is in my heart
and i hurt to know what i am, have done--

it spirals
it gets worse

i keep hoping that one day
they'll stay...


but everyone leaves
don't they?

everything you love gets carried away.



i don't want to be the other girl anymore.

September 2017

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