You’re looking at me but seeing her
I know that look, it’s happened before
Sitting there stunned
wondering how I know
it’s because I was there too
in one way or another.
The light behind her
as she stood in the doorway
saying goodbye
without quite getting
that it was breaking you.
I am quite good at picking up pieces
and forming patterns
out of broken hearts.
You see he looked at me the same way
with great charm
but without an ounce of soul
as he made his messy exit.
Your last night with her
will never leave you
but that’s ok
since I’ll never forget him either.
But that doesn’t mean
we can’t make our own mandalas
with the shards we’ve become
not so empty just broken
waiting to be laid out in a new bed
of our making.
It will be messy and beautiful
and ours looking forward like dawn.
Monday work rant
racing to get nowhere
faster and faster we go
looking everywhere
except where we should focus
over analyzing
but forgetting the simple things
frustration mounting
building
festering
until there’s a pop
an explosion
and we lash out
like wild animals
caged too long
in traps of our own making
self serving in a twisted way
subsisting on gluttony
needing more, more!
but what happens
when we run out of room
in our homes
in our heads
in our hearts
what will we become
will anyone even notice
in a world full of hungry animals
hurt
ugh
that hurt
right in the gut
trying to silence me
any way you can
you tried the face
but I don’t hold truck with looks
you tried withholding food
but I have other things to feed me
you tried screwing with my head
but I have other reserves
you don’t even know about
untying my robe
that I kept on for comfort
trying to bate me
baring me
to your gaze
but something you can’t understand
is that I’m not afraid
of pain of flesh
when it’s so fleeting
it’s the soul searing pain
of the loss of your touch
and the emptiness
I face without your words
I fear
so hurt me
and I’ll know you’re still there
rummaging
finally, I could write a little something
it’s starting to be like that cigarette
or that drink after dinner
or that late morning break at work
feels like the release I need
when I let the words out
of me
spilling over
sometimes pretty
like waves of lavender
or an impressionist portrait
sometimes horrid
like a haunted house
or a cubist tortured animal rendering
either way
I need it now
the relief tremendous
the writing
the words
rummaging through files
in my brain
Sleight of Hand
well that’s just ridiculous
shadows and sleight of hand
it’s magic, that’s what it is
why don’t we saw each other in half
and just get it over with
nobody will believe you chose me
you’re the damn ringmaster
while my spangles are tarnished
my tights are in tatters
and you shine like the noonday sun
so steady, stoic
bloody dashing, good
did you start as a lion tamer
because you’ve soothed my beast
we kissed, you cupped my cold hands
I may have set my sights too high
but never reached for the rings
I just dreamt and there you were
you fell but maybe I tripped you
we have no net now
traveling together
we’re freewheeling through space
bystanders entertained
small children delighted
I have no need of a big finish
so put away your plans
don’t you see
it’s not the high wire but the trapeze
we’re meant to fly and meet and part
and meet again
because it’s sweet
I can dust myself off
but never match your glow
but if you let me bask a little
I’ll do my part
and we’ll hold onto real magic
The Word Rummager 