Flush (Ode to the same Kind)

I was busy with this other kind of poetry
the kind that sits
and waits
and simmers in itself until it falls apart

You were busy watching the kind people
making  friends
making things
like comfort and security

I like that about you
and the easy manner
you cross your arms against your chest
guarding your invitation to destroy me

You did, too. You destroyed me
in a single sitting
on your front porch
I haven't recovered since

There Were Flowers: Retirement Party Benefiting the Idle Class

 -Deconstruction of Structured Poems
     Explain the World To Me / Sestina
       This is Where I Found My Home / Villanelle
        You Are My Address / Intro. into Acrostics
       For Crying Outloud
       Period Or The End of A Sentence
       Palindrome
       We Get Away From, From Ourselves

- Music by Sammy Williams

-Karaoke Poetry w/Special Guest Readings by:
Cheyenne Matthews / bring. your. own. mountain. 
Caitlin Love / My Tree
Cale Lefevre / Diamonds Are Dinosaurs
Jeremy Brasher / Consistently Inconsistent
Missy Lipps / Walking
Matt Carey / Pictures Are Never In Real Time
            "Open Mic for Karaoke Poetry"

- Music by Mandy McBryde

   


       


  

Love is Sure and Real

Love comes back to you
it is never in vain

Riches are gone
Only family remain

Held
in the blood of our arms

I am feeling that unknown thing
at the same time as you

A blinking heart that remembers bleeding

I am seeing you
wanting to be held in your arms

You introduce yourself to me
and it is not in vain

There Will Be Flowers

It just occurred to me that my nightmare of Armageddon
 isn't about something that is about to happen
It is about things that have already happened
 
Tornadoes, hail storms, and the fear
Bodies of water that rise up out of themselves
Firebombs and frantic markets with frantic people
Piles of bones, helicopters, and that one dream
 where I was given the golden beret
 and I knew I had to fly away
So I did
 and the next day I started practicing lucid dreaming

I have been torn open
That wound will never heal
It may as well be worth everything

So every day I wonder
 who am I to call for love
What right do I have to ask for so much

And then I think
 how high do we wish to rise
I want to take us there

Love calls on me and I worry
 if it is raining because I am lonely
Are the dark clouds in my mind only

And the you in my heart says
 it is raining because there was sunshine
And that's just the way it is

I wonder
 who are you
This is your reply

I am you
 the sun and the rain and the clouds dark and vibrant
 loneliness and uneasiness and humility and questions
 fulfillment and miracles and acceptance and belief
 poetry
 profanity
 man and woman in every form
 without end or beginning
I am you

All that you see
All that you wish to see
The layers of the earth
The infinity of the sky
Curve of your cheek
Flash of your camera
All things known and unknown

I am you

Guilt, Love, and Redirection

I have been collecting all of these secret poems
and I bought myself some fancy perfume
I think it is because I want to be with you

You may or may not know who you are to me
and I just get so dreamy and confused
You should let me know if it is you

I think that would make things easy

Yesterday I stayed in bed until 6:30 in the afternoon
I was busy beating myself up for doing the right thing
Yesterday I consoled myself with the dusky sunshine

You should forgive me for being me

If nothing else, just stay away forever
Yes, if you are deeply rooted in reality
If this doesn't make sense to you

I think you should stay away from me

SWF

I am not perfect

I am not going to be a doctor
but I can make you feel better

Law school is not in my future
but I have raised the bar of what is right
That is what I am fighting for

Who knows if I'll ever be famous
but if someone tells you they know me
take it with a grain of salt
Unless they say they love me too

If I am notorious for anything
it is for being flaky
but I have been working on that for a long time
I am much better now
You can count on me

I keep a very clean apartment
but I rarely wash my face before bed
I floss all of the time
but don't like to brush my teeth before I go to sleep
I pretty much have my shit together
I'm just really lonely and I miss you

Bury Me In a Wooden Box and Be Glad For Me

I am going to ease into this exceptionally naturally
question every beautiful person that I ever meet
I will say to them,
I will say to you,

"Do you know? Have you ever felt like me?"

They will nod and they will agree
or otherwise act like they do not hear me

But in my wooden box I will be glad for me
because we are all dying to be
as happy as that girl they met in the bakery

I met her once too
She was singing to you
She was singing to me
She was completely sincere when she invited you to be we

Archery/Conjunctions

The archer of the sky has been steadying his aim for years
It's a shame...really
the way his arrow hit the ground with a soft thud

But

Maybe he was aiming for the ground that whole time
Maybe it's important that I pretended he released the arrow
Maybe the point was letting the arrow go

And

If I were the archer I would want to be my arrow
and if I were the arrow I would want you to be my bow
and I would want to be let go

Because


If I were in flight I would never want to land anywhere
much less care or know that I would eventually find a resting home
somewhere in the soft ground

April's Fool is May's Wiseman

I am washing my sheets again
Staring at the bed I sleep in
I am the only one who knows its secrets

The chemist knows that he sometimes found me
tangled in my headphones
unresponsive and in full dress
Come morning he would voice his distress
 Really, I think he was most concerned
that he didn't get to have sex

The kid fresh out of college and straight into rehab
took me for a ride in his car
and made me watch him smoke opium
His polite upbringing asked me if I wanted some
 Of course, I refused
 I only wanted him

I washed my sheets and made my bed

I am telling everyone my secrets

Balm and Forget-Me-Not

A crossword, a four letter word for salve, beer
One legal pad,  two packs of boot-leg Camel Blue, a pink pen

I look up the word "mystic" in my pocket dictionary
Carefully print the definition and  look up "truth"

I take off my bra all Flashdance-style
An entire day has passed and  I am alone in my dining room
Still very much aware of the sparks we made

Something new has my attention
It's an eleven letter word for a blue wildflower

Nothing hurts right now

Wait out the Winter

Winter bleeds into the Spring
March lets it

Birds caught in the crosswind
Perch and wait

Pools collect and branches bend
The change begins

Phonetically

I typed out:
Everybody is going to die?
And then my phone rang
It was her voice
It was that voice
The one she reserved for the story of tragedy
The same one that told me I had to come rescue her
The one who was telling me
To clear my calender for another death in the family
I knew that voice so well
Bad news is not foreign to me
Unexpected departures
Were always delivered in her words

When the Saints

She knew how to pour wine
She knew how to keep cut flowers alive

I observed the way a bottle is held
I  trim the stems of my arrangements daily

Seems like someone should have sent me flowers today

I know it's too many glasses of wine
that has me expecting the unexpected all of the time

I know it's a preoccupation with love
that has me expecting flowers all of the time

Seems like she should be naked and elated right now

Carbon

I wish the night was long enough
I wish I would have cried harder


She was right when she said everyone was thinking of themselves
It was sweet of me to feel bad every time I thought of myself

It was this morning when I promised myself I would be graceful
She told me this afternoon about all of these haphazard things

You were right when you said we shouldn't blame anyone
You were right when you said it's all fucked


But I heard about this shiny silver that lines the rain clouds
It sounded like it might be just the thing to help us now






  

Beatnik Beauty (this is forever)

the beatnik beauties spill into and out of the bars
coffee shops and music halls
their photographs and paint brushes
drumsticks and ink
spill with them

cigarettes and longneck bottles
settle in against sobriety
the ethanol an allegory
the ethanol an allergy
few know the difference

the beatnik beauty locked and unlocked and relocked
the door to the coffee shop
took her picture in the dining room
took your picture while you were sleeping
few know the difference

22 cigarettes and a bottomless bottle
swept the slate clean
and the cicadas sing
in a shrill pitch that could only mean
this is forever