Friday, November 12, 2010

Untitled

I contemplated my tears
& I contemplated Mary Jo’s scars
I contemplated the moon
& I contemplated the stars

I thought about the Indian man at the gas station
The one who told me in his country my name means star

& I contemplated how we all got here
What had brought me sobbing to my knees
& what brought the blade across her wrists
What brought him to a new country

The fear of starting something new
& the overwhelming need for it

Sunday, November 07, 2010

Better Than da Vinci Could Have Painted

A velvet blanket
Stretched endlessly across your eyes
Spotted with diamonds
This is your hearts desire
Fall to your knees, lift your hands & pray
Never let this moment fade away

The night is a painting
To hang on the wall
Whisper his name
Watch the constellations fall
A life lived by wondering
Never asks why
Whisper his name
Watch the constellations fall

Thursday, November 04, 2010

A Letter To Charles

Explain to me Charles, the reason for my melancholy
Tell me why I have to be this way
Tell me why I’m better off on my own
And why learning to love didn’t change me none
A good thing comes along
And I push it away
Then bitch & moan, begging them to stay

Clarify for me Charles, the ways in which this helped me
Were you only happy when you struggled?
When you didn’t know from day to day
If anything at all would change, would get better?
When your heart ached, but your pen flew across paper?
When you took another sip from the bottle
But rested well knowing you were fighting the good fight?

Enlighten me Charles, about the day you questioned God.
I heard you asked Him yourself to give you answers.
And He replied only to say, “Fight the good fight my son”
So you did, but only you could truly judge its outcome
I asked God if that would save me too
If all I had to do was fight the good fight
But He never responded

But please, tell me Charles, was it worth it?
What is the legacy you have become?
Were those days listening to Beethoven
And looking at birds on power lines
Really as powerful as the days you fought those bartenders
In protest of how empty your nights had become?