opaque
as they wash up on the sky's shore.
dream-like pink-
silver linings shine through
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Untitled - December 15, 2006
in bed
can't sleep
clock ticks
outside the
storm blows
wind
can't sleep
tic
tic
can't sleep
clock ticks
outside the
storm blows
wind
can't sleep
tic
tic
It's So Quiet And Everything's So Nice - April 1997
A robin beats it's wins fiercely
and my dog looks up.
Curious; startled and awakened from her nap.
The windmill in the yard,
up on that hill over there
turns with the light breeze.
A meadowlark calls out it's song
as the clouds move overhead.
The breeze quickens,
fallen leaves begin to rustle,
playing their own game of tag in the grass.
Way in the distance, cows holler.
Thunder rolls above me
and the robin speaks it's mind.
Although these things I cannot understand,
I sit and watch....
as it begins to rain...
and my dog looks up.
Curious; startled and awakened from her nap.
The windmill in the yard,
up on that hill over there
turns with the light breeze.
A meadowlark calls out it's song
as the clouds move overhead.
The breeze quickens,
fallen leaves begin to rustle,
playing their own game of tag in the grass.
Way in the distance, cows holler.
Thunder rolls above me
and the robin speaks it's mind.
Although these things I cannot understand,
I sit and watch....
as it begins to rain...
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Old Friend
She hobbled down the long apartment hallway, gathering about her sweaters and scarves, layer upon layer. Her translucent skin stretching over bony fingers as she carefully buttons up her long jacket. Hat, pinned on just perfect. In the mirror, she adjusts her wispy stormcloud hair and applies another layer of Dusty Rose lipstick from her handbag.
Keys in hand, she locks the door behind her and makes her way, painfully slowly to the elevator at the end of the hall.the bell rings, she climbs into the empty car and begins her descent. a few floors down, the car stops and an Asian couple get in seaking to each other in rapid punctuated words that she does not understand. She is frightened, change makes her so. She didn't used to get scared so easily, she recalls.
At the ground floor, she steps out gingerly, never quite sure of her footing off those elevators. The doorman, Jorge, greets her and holds the door for her and she continues her journey. No hope in flagging down a cab in this city. She stands at the corner and raises her gloved hand. all around her the cabs stop for the young, the beautiful. After 12 minutes, one cab stops and she crawls inside and tells the man the address. "i'm going to visit my friend" she tells the uninterested driver.
He drives.
She looks out the window, lost in herself.
20 minutes later they are out of the city and driving into the country. The cabbie pulls onto a dusty lane and stops at the address given. She climbs out of the back and asks the driver to stay. "i'll pay you" she says. he nods, grabs his paper and lights a cigarette.
Not much has changed since she was here last week. She knows this place well, she has been coming for over 20 years. Finally she arrives at her destination. She crouches down, her knees and body creaking with the movement, and brushes away the fallen leaves.
STANLEY WHITE
b. 1923 - d. 1987
Husband, Father, Friend.
"Hello, Stanley" she says "Have you been waiting long?"
Keys in hand, she locks the door behind her and makes her way, painfully slowly to the elevator at the end of the hall.the bell rings, she climbs into the empty car and begins her descent. a few floors down, the car stops and an Asian couple get in seaking to each other in rapid punctuated words that she does not understand. She is frightened, change makes her so. She didn't used to get scared so easily, she recalls.
At the ground floor, she steps out gingerly, never quite sure of her footing off those elevators. The doorman, Jorge, greets her and holds the door for her and she continues her journey. No hope in flagging down a cab in this city. She stands at the corner and raises her gloved hand. all around her the cabs stop for the young, the beautiful. After 12 minutes, one cab stops and she crawls inside and tells the man the address. "i'm going to visit my friend" she tells the uninterested driver.
He drives.
She looks out the window, lost in herself.
20 minutes later they are out of the city and driving into the country. The cabbie pulls onto a dusty lane and stops at the address given. She climbs out of the back and asks the driver to stay. "i'll pay you" she says. he nods, grabs his paper and lights a cigarette.
Not much has changed since she was here last week. She knows this place well, she has been coming for over 20 years. Finally she arrives at her destination. She crouches down, her knees and body creaking with the movement, and brushes away the fallen leaves.
STANLEY WHITE
b. 1923 - d. 1987
Husband, Father, Friend.
"Hello, Stanley" she says "Have you been waiting long?"
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Fade...
originally posted here
Sitting here thinking of you,
Reminiscing what we went through.
Wondering if you'd ever forget,
Where and when we first met.
You were like my other half,
Never hesitating to make me laugh.
It's amazing how our friendship would grow,
Meeting people that I didn't know.
Whatever happened, you were always kind.
I always wonder "do I ever cross you mind?"
I always think that people won't remember me,
Like I was just some old memory.
Now I'm standing back, trying to hide in the shade
Please don't let the memory of me fade...
Sitting here thinking of you,
Reminiscing what we went through.
Wondering if you'd ever forget,
Where and when we first met.
You were like my other half,
Never hesitating to make me laugh.
It's amazing how our friendship would grow,
Meeting people that I didn't know.
Whatever happened, you were always kind.
I always wonder "do I ever cross you mind?"
I always think that people won't remember me,
Like I was just some old memory.
Now I'm standing back, trying to hide in the shade
Please don't let the memory of me fade...
Poetry on 8th Street
originally posted here
Lover: I created you
but you created me
hand in hand we stand
gazing down this broken highway
bare naked as babes
together in innocence
together in sin
arms outstretched, we travel
soaking in the sun
striding boldly into our vibrant future
away from the bleak days of solitude
Not knowing what lies ahead
leaving the past behind
-laura
Ode to My Feet
For Paige Stanton
originally posted here
They are the platform of my life;
they lead me forward
they cause me to dance
they run when they need to
but walk when they can.
Perhaps they are unloved and shy
embarassed by blemishes
unsure of the Red Wine
Safely tucked away in warm sleeping bag socks
They wish for Sun, but do not dare.
neglected and weather worn
they have braved the cold winter
originally posted here
They are the platform of my life;
they lead me forward
they cause me to dance
they run when they need to
but walk when they can.
Perhaps they are unloved and shy
embarassed by blemishes
unsure of the Red Wine
Safely tucked away in warm sleeping bag socks
They wish for Sun, but do not dare.
neglected and weather worn
they have braved the cold winter
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
