Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Whatever and More Poems

Do Not Love Me

Like a comet called to dance,
you break into the pregnant earth, the solid rock-roundness of me.
Crashing into my details, furrowing a road where none existed,
you give me words, lend me sound
to say anything, to scream up a magic that rages
against isolation interrupted.

Wary, I wait on
the imagined damage already done,
for the wave goodbye with a cynical eye and easy wrist.
I refuse your prayers to wake and embrace this love.
My head holds only space for solitary kites
in flights of fancy, the stuff which dreams are made.

I despise the gravity, the weight which holds you firmly to my lonely fate.
I cannot love beautifully, nor love right.
I am perfect imperfection in matters of the heart and night.
I'd rather you be a falling star faded on the wind,
than let me extinguish your fire in the end.

Shadow Cinquain

The sun
hangs low right now.
The afternoon ends soon.
You walk away without my heart.
I cry.


Whatever

"It takes courage!" he barked at me.
Where am I supposed to find that? I thought.

Does it even exist in this body,
perhaps clinging to tendons and bones unknown,
like a virus dormant until triggered.
Is it in muscle memory,
kinetic energy
stored deeply beneath the fear?
A moment of time,
a catalyst never coming,
a bravery unfulfilled, unnamed.

"Whatever," I replied.
And cried on the inside
hot tears of doubt and shame.

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