Monday, July 5, 2010
Like the black crow,
upon your wooden post
strung with wire
As the rail road,
ties around your wrists
and the dawn, She
cloaks herself in sighs
as you sit
upon your pride,
for the tracks
that never glance
Friday, May 28, 2010
"Loose Strife" by Felicia Mitchell
It never comes in small packages,
only in bulk, like tea or heartbreak--
and it is as tenacious as crows
circling the pinnacle of your life
while you stand there above it all
looking down at wildflowers
that would never be as pretty in a vase
as on top of that earthen grave.
This poem is close to me in all of my ways.
Now, a few of my own.
I looked up to the geese
that called across my winters south
and envied for the one who carried the wind
Yet I found myself hoping for the few
left behind in their own ghost formation
that continued to drown out the rest
with their desperate cries
A swirl of color
runs down the back of my neck
spine first and then some--
It laces the contours of my shoulders
and shawls the pattern of my thoughts
with mayday, mayday
And for Today
I'm too sleepy to write.
Monday, May 24, 2010
"You do not need both fridge doors open."
Actually, yes I do. It's completely impossible for me to decide what to eat if the unknown tundra of the other side is not seen.
This is just one of the few things Sarah nags me about. Sarah, my friend/mother or "frother" is a constant reminder of why I'm thankful to be nineteen. Although I've escaped the scrutiny of my real mother, my frother is not so merciful.
"Turn down your music"
She says this but feels the need to do it for me, usually reaching over and twisting the volume dial to an unbearable 11 on a scale of 34. However, in her car her speakers practically implode. I never watch for her when she comes over to my house. All I have to do is listen for the low rumbling "bump" of 93.9 as she pulls into my drive.
Did I mention she falls asleep around 2 a.m.? Who in there right mind gets sleep before 9a.m. in the morning!?
Honestly, she might as well have in floral nightgown and lacy socks.
(No offense Mammaw hahah)
Apart from being a parental downfall to my childish antics, she claims that I wouldn't know what to do if she didn't regulate my actions.
Grant it, she keeps me out of trouble sometimes.. But I know how to use a microwave perfectly well thank you very much, I'd just prefer you to do it for me out of pure laziness... not stupidity.
After a decided argument in the kitchen I told her I would write a blog about her frothering me. She pointedly told me to go right ahead and so I did, in a joking manner.
Now she's laying beside me, quite furious about this post.. I think I might be grounded. :P
Perhaps, I could say that my favorite thing to do in the Summer is drive at night. I am comforted by the constricted feeling I get when nothing but blind emptiness surrounds me and the rushing wind and the sound of trees. Each limb has it's own tone of passing--a rhythm that knots my hair around the seat and is burdened with the scent of dogwood and honeysuckle. I love the heavy sway of curves on Broles Lane and often find myself taking the long way home just to feel them. In those moments, life and gravity are just a concept.