Monday, October 25, 2010

Running from Ghosts


Stereotypes and 
clichés. 
We embody them,
we defeat them,
but then of course-
we create them

I am just like that.
I was just like that.
I am nothing like that.

and then of couse,

I want to be like that.
and
I will be like that.

There is no escape
but then again
there's nothing
to run from.



Sunday, October 3, 2010

Bare Feet on Cold Tile

There are no compassionate breezes
that pass through the
inside of a warm room
in the midst of 
a sleepless
night.

Only feelings of ache
howl through hollow spaces
as I stare back at tossed
sheets
highlighted by a single, yellow light
stumbling through 
from the bathroom door.

Cracked porcelain tiles are
vibrating in my eyes
and I can't help but stare blankly at the
stale water sitting in the bottom of 
the bathtub-
leaving a little
stain
as it dries.

The figure
leaning on the edge of the bathroom counter,
looking back through a cloud of water-spots 
can't be me;
a phantom of insomnia-
a trick.


Imagery fit for a mindful doctor
float around the blurry thing-

allusions to events from the past week:


laughing children,
toys in a rain gutter,
a dead dog,
the seam of a women's torn stocking and
a pile of loose, blank paper
sitting on a desk by an open window-
fluttering in the wind.


failures

and fantasies


in a dark,
warm,
room.

Real and Imagined.

  Better to break bones than to endure the loss of perceived love.  Better to bleed internally to keep warm than to seek out comfort in anot...