may God bless all the delicate
creatures that will hold your hand
in their impossibly strong grips
and shed glimmering tears
as you admit you’re afraid to
take your last breath
place their long sweet-smelling
manes over your eyes
so that your last thoughts
are of beauty before you die
let my eyes stay here and play awhile
before you go away. let me marvel at how
your light shifts shape, your amber haze so
addicting. let my eyes stay here and
play awhile, before you fly right out the
door. leaving your golden smile, your aura,
your everything – helpless on the floor
dreamt my life was leaving last night.
panic threw itself on top on me – crushing my breath.
soul escaped my fingertips, fled from my
O shaped mouth; much like what he likes to draw,
minus the teeth, minus the red.
dreamt my life left me; flat like a sheet, empty like a shell.
it was tired of being anemic and pale.
motionless, I watched it walk away.
tried to scream, plead for it to come back,
but my cold mouth froze up, still shaped like an O.
felt the wind rush over me one last time.
instantly made me regret that I had to go.
moon graced the tops of the palms, bade my soul
to separate, to congregate with the
others – the ones in that tranquil state but
distant ungodly fury – my fears, the
sadness spinning out of control caused me
to pause, reflecting that my dull spirit
was longing to follow the ones at peace.
their fingers mingling, reaching for my own.
realize mine are cold and trembling far from
and missing home, demanded my spirit
to stay. confused, it turned around – followed
the birds that just took flight under the light
of the new year’s moon, cause even the birds
know when danger is imminent, flapping
up with wings that covered their heads. catch a
glimpse of their pink bones through veils of strength. I
follow those pleas for mercy, their clues, and
make my way back, my bleary ghost and all.
Set the cotton candy mounds ablaze;
transformed their blue haze
to grey.
Tried not to look back at the bridge that
called so boldly out
to me.
Imagined me atop its railing;
set to spring forth up
to them.
Mind wandered to that dying bunny
in the yard we found
last night.
Heart sunk and wished I’d held it so it
wouldn’t be afraid
to die.
Today you checked on it. Still breathing;
its glassed eyes on the
blue sky.
Put it in a bag; tied it tight. To
end its misery;
its fight.
Peeked on it later; its shut eyes now
at peace. Walked away
to cry.
I want to build a house by the coal sea.
You say Mr. Take Awayer won’t find us
there by the dark sea that rocks us to sleep.
Mr. Take Awayer will wear a shabby
garb of white. You tell me he floats sideways
in the contrast of night. Always at night.
By the vast sea I pray his calls are drowned
out by the violent waves and rocky shore.
He beckons to deceive you far from me.
But you won’t hear him I promise. I swear.
I hope you’ll be happy, hope we are too.
When I build a house by the jet black sea
and every night have its torment sway us
to dreamland. Find comfort knowing it could
swallow us, forgetting this pain on earth.
Hidden afar from Mr. Take Awayer.
that foam hung around for a long time
this time
tickled my arms
tickled my nose
so I couldn’t breathe
reminded me of that time long ago
I held my breath when I was born
held it so long
that they told him I died
and
when he told that story
it was the only time
I ever saw him cry
When she be coming for me
in the wee hours of the morn
it’ll be the same as
when I had no breath
the moment I was born
When she be coming for me
wearing her soft gown of white
riding the tails of wind
in the blackest part of night
She be coming for me
the dreams foretold
left me hiding scared
under a blanket
with arms scarred up and old
She’ll leave the door open
as if in a trance
the zephyr will try to usher her back
I’ll whisper for one more chance
When she be coming for me
I’ll hear the gale swoosh down the hall
sound so deafening
you won’t even hear my call
When she be coming for me
her hair still wet with dew
kindness shining bright as stars
her eyes the palest hue
She be coming for me as
old man Winter blows in the snow
the floorboards will creak and crack
I’ll witness the last of my tears
before I have to go
When she be coming for me
in the wee hours of the morn
off and away I’ll be
and
when we meet again
dear one
we’ll just have to
wait and see
Today, this day, 10 years ago she watched her father die in a cold hospital room during a Nebraska winter.
Today, this day, she decided to go to the beach.
This woman, while resting in an umbrella of warmth, heard a man shuffle by; wearing a blue shirt, his profile reminded her of her father.
The one that could grow a red beard and whose eyes got greener when he was mad. The one whose laugh could wake the dead and the one who hid his sadness with a mask. Until that day – she got the call that he wanted to end it all. One week he would stay at a different hospital, decades before his unluckiness would take him. Decades before the cancer devoured his laugh and made him blow up like a fish. Decades before she saw his last breath.
The man she saw today was shorter than her father, but they shared the same hair color and smile. She was sure his eyes were green and that they sparkled like sand beneath her feet. She would close her eyes and try to recall the ghostly memories of her father. The way he shifted his weight while talking on the telephone. Right foot, left foot, with a sort of rocking motion. The way he sprayed a cloud of Aqua Net on his hair every morning. And the way he never seemed to dry off his hands after washing them; he just shook them in the air while her socks soaked up the water.
Between reading, trying to remember, and wave gazing; she spent a great deal of time watching one particular seagull. The fat one with a long neck who bellowed for the others to stay away. The one who looked irritated at the smaller, scurrying birds that busily ran after their shadows. The one who approached her expectantly as she ate her honey mustard pretzels and then was chased by a little girl who reminded her of her daughters. The one with the peach and blue bathing suit. The one with the ponytail that looked like one long curl down her back. The little one with all the power to chase the seagull around and make him soar away.
This woman longed to borrow the little girl’s happiness, borrow her smile, borrow her power to make the seagull ascend. Especially today, this day, when 10 years ago she was forced to say goodbye to her father.
