They say there is a ghost nearby,
but it is not me.
Though they seem to see right
through me,
talk roughly over me,
and though my hand passes through
physical objects with ease,
Couldn’t possibly be me.
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And have I wounded
With my mindless words
Have I opened
An old envelope of pain
Not meaning to
But the road to hell, they say
Is paved with good intention.
Prom queen
beauty
discovers
youthful charm
lost as unsightly
greenery
develops
on her cheeks
and chin.
Wandering night
shores
my restless muse
keeps me spinning
summoning
life in ink.
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Thought played
Like a cavorting imp,
Unrestrained,
Struggling against the leash
used to bind her.
She mewled cat phrases
While she tore at the frayed edges
Of crenellated brain cells
With her uncapped claws.
All downstrokes,
Ripped blinding synaptic gashes.
A phone winkled
In surprise visit
And the thought,
Scared child,
Swept itself into the darkness,
Darted away into the ether
Lost forever.
I haven’t seen my friend Anne in a while.
My parents say sad things that don’t make sense,
“Her dad will never walk her down the aisle,”
And now they talk about her in past tense.
We dress in black and all get in the car,
It coughs to life and then we’re on our way,
My father says that we won’t go too far,
Somehow I feel that this is a sad day.
We pull up to a scary looking place,
Her parents are in front both wearing black,
Has Anne been lost? I hope that’s not the case.
We walk in together, no turning back.
In the big building she lays in a dome.
They call it a coffin, her brand new home.
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ALONE BY FAULT
AN OPEN WOUND
UNHEALED DIRTY
FILLED WITH SALT
JUST WAITING WANTING
FORSAKEN ALONE
WANDERING SEARCHING
A PLACE, HOME
COLD, SCARED
SCARRED
BUT YEARNING
HEART WAITING, BARRED
ADDICTED I THINK
MISSING THE PAIN
MY HEART MY SLEEVE
THE BLOOD THE STAIN
A BARREN SHELL
COVERED IN SKIN
SELECTIVE PICKY
WHO I LET IN
BUT I MISS YOU
PAIN HEARTBREAK
YOU MUST BE SPECIAL
FOR MY FUTURE ACHE
My favorite book is THE COMPLETE WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE. In it there is one passage in one particular play that I am extraordinarily fond of – to wit – Act 3, Scene 4, of Antony and Cleopatra. It is the line of verse that immediately follows a passionate soliloquy by Cleopatra, in which the doomed Queen declares her undying love for Antony, wrestling as they both do with their fate that is certain to tear their lives asunder and end their lives forever. And when Cleopatra concludes her soliloquy, there is a profound silence. And then the next line – my favorite – reads as follows:
Another Egyptian Enters The Room
Now the boys loved their faithful dolphin companion,
Flipper. How he was always there for them in times
of danger or grave peril. How did he do this? How
did he know? Well, it’s simple: the ocean is filled
with hundreds of thousands of dolphins who love
little boys, and all look pretty much identical.
And dolphins are exceedingly polite, and
always willing to say “After you, sir.”
