If tears could fix problems...
we could cry until they were all gone...

instead
with heavy choked lumps of
sad
in our throats

wishing, praying, hoping
resisting despair

problems that aren't even "mine", but they are "ours" because this isn't about me or you. The heart strings are tied, taut under my rib on my flesh to under yours and on yours. Turning my head away from you to spare myself the sight of the problems doesn't stop the hemorrhaging, the painful, jerking tug to get my attention again to watch our problems, our wreckage...

My big little girl heart
is full of
happy wide world hopes
5.23

I'd like to say forgive me
for not thinking this through
some things won't wait
for the right words to string together
and the fabric I'm weaving doesn't
look the right color, but I know that its
softer than anything you've ever felt
before.

Here they come,
the words that have been building themselves up
creating the right little layers of sensation...

Una palabra no dice nada
y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo
igual que el viento que esconde el agua
como las flores que esconde el lodo.

Una mirada no dice nada
y al mismo tiempo lo dice todo
como la lluvia sobre tu cara
o el viejo mapa de algún tesoro.

Una verdad no dice nada
y al mismo tiempo lo esconde todo
como una hoguera que no se apaga
como una piedra que nace polvo.

Si un día me faltas no seré nada
y al mismo tiempo lo seré todo
porque en tus ojos están mis alas
y está la orilla donde me ahogo,
porque en tus ojos están mis alas
y está la orilla donde me ahogo.

HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;	5
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;	10
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me. ED

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.



Thanks Maya...thanks.

It's not a silly little moment
It's not the storm before the calm
This is the deep and dyin breath of
this love we've been workin on
Can't seem to hold you like I want to
so I can feel you in my arms
Nobody's gonna come and save you
we pulled too many false alarms

We're goin down
and you can see it too
We're goin down
and you know that we're doomed
my dear
we're slow dancing in a burnin room

I was the one you always dreamed of
you were the one i tried to draw
how dare you say it's nothin to me
baby, you're the only light I ever saw

I make the most of all the sadness
you'll be a bitch because you can
you try to hit me just hurt me
so you leave me feelin dirty cuz you can't understand

We're goin down
and you can see it too
We're goin down
and you know that we're doomed
my dear
we're slow dancing in a burnin room

Go cry about it why don't you
Go cry about it why don't you
Go cry about it why don't you
my dear, we're slow dancin in a burnin room
burnin room, burnin room
don't you think we oughta know by now
don't you think we shoulda learned somehow

who do you love? me or the thought of me?

Someone
someone is dressing up for death today, a change of skirt or tie
eating a final feast of buttered sliced pan, tea
scarcely having noticed the erection that was his last
shaving his face to marble for the icy laying out
spraying with deodorant her coarse armpit grass
someone today is leaving home on business
saluting, terminally, the neighbours who will join in the cortege
someone is paring his nails for the last time, a precious moment
someone's waist will not be marked with elastic in the future
someone is putting out milkbottles for a day that will not come
someone's fresh breath is about to be taken clean away
someone is writing a cheque that will be rejected as 'drawer deceased'
someone is circling posthumous dates on a calendar
someone is listening to an irrelevant weather forecast
someone is making rash promises to friends
someone's coffin is being sanded, laminated, shined
who feels this morning quite as well as ever
someone if asked would find nothing remarkable in today's date
perfume and goodbyes her final will and testament
someone today is seeing the world for the last time
as innocently as he had seen it first
-DO'D

I don't need another kind of green to know I'm on the right side with you
So go and drift away from me
adopt some new philosophy
that doesn't hold the two of us in mind
move into someone else's place
stare into some other's eyes
and slowly only come to realize
that you didn't need another kind of green to know
that I'm on the right side
that you're on the right side
you don't need to lose it to know that you
had it good.
-JM

I'll never tell you
I love you
you'll be on top and
you'll have me right
where you want me
I'll reek of you, your power
some exerting others absorbing
the shocks.
I feel the vibrations of your voice
and the echoes of your thoughts
on park benches. I gasp as you
exhale. Breathing in,
what you breathe out.
I'll never tell you
I love you (again).

Its you that I'm full of hate for
Angry love efficiency packed inside me
I'm making my angry love without you.
Forgive my misgiving
And I may have gone too far
And given too much
Your taking - not enough
Forget my white gardenia
made into the messy sheets
open windows and air out
our memory
we've lingered so long
flickering from flames to
embers to ashes.
All we have to grasp are
handfuls of fleeting dreams.
We are shadows of ourselves
of course, & our lives are made up of
the negative spaces between us.

Mad Girl's Love Song

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

-Sylvia Plath
(Edited)

7 minutes of complete submission
and a flicker of indulgence
the remains are a
blackend heart
surrended to temptation
surrounded in a cloud of
remorseful repentance for
a lifetime. So heavy,
so thick that no flicker is seen
nor shall any flicker pierce through
again

And you as well must die, beloved dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead,
This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,
This body of flame and steel, before the gust
Of Death, or under his autumnal frost,
Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead
Than the first leaf that fall, --- this wonder fled.
Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost.

Nor shall my love avail you in your hour.
In spite of all my love, you will arise
Upon that day and wander down the air
Obscurely as the unattended flower,
It mattering not how beautiful you were,
Or how beloved above all else that dies.

-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

We live our lives divided. When you tell me you're tired, I empathize because I've felt tired before. I don't see the strain in your eyes or hear the softness of your voice because its worn out. I don't know the tenseness in your muscles or feel how much you just want to pass out on the nearest soft surface. I don't know your pain, joy, anger, dissapointment, sadness, or love. From a distance,I can only guess from what I know of these emotions. Knowing of your troubles I pray for you, and I think about you. I wonder how to make things easier for you, yet I'm powerless to do anything, so I continue making silent prayers, offering to listen when I can.

What makes me realize this disparity between our lives, our joy, our problems, our worries, is even as we do all that we can for each other, we fall short. I fall short of everything I can do for you. For that, I hope you can forgive me.

Broken up, deep inside
You won't get to see the tears I cry
Behind these hazel eyes...

...I told you everything
Opened up and let you in...

Now all that's left of me
Is what I pretend to be...

My baby's got a heart of stone
can't you people just leave her alone
she never did nothing to hurt you
so just leave her alone

The motion of her tiny hands
and the quiver of her bones below
are the signs of a girl alone
and tell you everything
you need to know

I can't explain it
I feel it often
everytime I see her face
but the way you treat her
fills me with rage and I
want to tear apart the place

You try to tell her what to do
and all she does is stare at you
her stare is louder than your voice
because truth doesn't make a noise

Poetry

This semester, I have realized the power of words, and the power of silence. Words selected to incite, entice, passify, enamour, and even words to merely purge ourselves of all our feelings are powerful because they can cause change. They can cause us to change our perceptions, our ideas, our paradigms, and even our actions. Reading some of the poetry from the likes of Shelley, Poe, Browning and Browning, Wordsworth, Arnold, and Tennyson has left an impression on my life. " I am a part of all that I have met (or read)."
I am not a poet, so I will not attempt to move others by my poetry, but if only to release these emotions which I'm not sure how to express. Perhaps only the leniency of poetry will allow for its oddness.

they hold my heart
in between their hands
every gentle caress
and all the little pinches
to all the big punches
leave me raw

If they came to know
Thier tears,would tear to pieces
& we'd never know peace and wonder
what will become of the
heart held wide open
or the heart closed shut
between their hands

Do I deserve it?

If I am not honest and frank, am I deserving of the honesty of others?
If I am not open and trusting of others, am I justified in feeling hurt when they are not open and trusting of me?
If I take others for granted, can I be upset when others use me?
If I am not a good friend to others, can I complain when I have no friends to comfort me?
If I never sincerely love, does it negate my need for love?