poem

Reconciliation

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

she didn’t do it right
the baby came first
but not before the one that didn’t
because there was a clinic in Chicago
that would take care of the problem
so he said…

And it did for a little while,
take care of the “problem” which was
in fact
to hide the fact that she was not
the “girl” she was expected to be
…secrets were born instead

The second became the first to
change the shape of things
though still no ring
…a circle if you will
of impatient nights and restless days
and wondering why it all turned out so different
than her dreams
…but still a dream

with little fingers and new eyes
through which she viewed the world
an ocean swell of love to wash her clean
she found her reconciliation

Ghost

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

The taste of dark brew
conversations overheard
from a wooden chair at the coffee shop
where the clatter of glass
a laugh a smile
all of these are reminders
of what was had and what is lost
and of the fleeting, dizzying pace of time
all things go on
as I go on
your ghost
like fading photographs
my company

Conversation with my Self: Part 1

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

“Once upon a times
and happy endings
are for dreamers
much too clean”
she said
she preferred life messy
and dramatic, looped where
most preferred straight lines
because “the truth,” she said
“is most are lost anyway
and only pretending that the
by-line was authored in smiles
and sunshine
the subtext and addendum hidden
deeply within themselves
and they are miserable”
“Well I,” she said, “know Life,
and for the record,
she is one bitch
who expects no platitudes
or compliments
and will give none.
Life expects only that you dig in,
get dirty and learn that in the muck, the mire…the messy places…
You find yourself.
Fuck the fairy tale,” she said.
“It’s a lie. Don’t search for
neatly written and lovely words,
the alignment of the stars,
the magical fix…
All these things are far
from where you really need to be and certainly aren’t realistic
or obtainable and when you miss the mark where do you land?
In the same stubborn place
as all the other fools
who live in the illusion of perfection
that the fairy tale dreamers sell.”
“You see,” she said, “with a fire in her eyes that spoke truth,
“in that indeterminable amount of mess and flaws and imperfection, those who really look beyond the chaos and see
with seeing eyes,
find perfection they had searched for
all along.”

Pittance

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

Cast crumbs before the tiny winged thing
believing them to be a gift
from the Almighty, you
You forget that she can fly
and will, if she must
fly miles and miles alone
Majesty her own
she does not need your pittance.

You

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

You are my world in words
a shaft of sunlight splitting through
a dusty library window
where in silence lives
a heartbeat heard only in your embrace
my face pressed close to you
and your tattoos
every page
my love

Gone

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

her pillow is her company
since illusion has dissolved
to reality
like darkness to dawn
an understanding
that you and she could never work
despite her desire
and she was forced to face
her neediness and loneliness
and in some instances complete lack of any sense of self so lost
she hates it all and how
you strung up her dead dignity
and let it swing in the wind to be ridiculed
she was alive
the girl who once colored rainbows in black and white lines
is unpacking dark emotions
this purge may not bring purity
but it has brought clarity
and she is glad you are gone

She writes

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

She scrawls out heartbreak
in black ink
across white space
a solitary blood-letting
rivulets mark the page
in messy loops and turns
until a clot forms
to bottle up her nerves
and she can breathe
one deep sigh
confirms catharsis…
for now
she is ok.

Eyes Closed

~ Lisa ~ Leave a comment

It’s raining and I find myself
listening to the wipers mechanical sound
As they shift back and forth across the glass
and marveling at the cast
the stoplight’s glow leaves on the road
Green means go
and so I drive knowing this way
will never lead to your heart
yellow, pause take stock and
grip the wheel I know the red light’s coming
stop or go?
Hit the gas…we all want what we can’t have
even when it means we might not make it through
T-boned in the intersection
it’s possible
Knowing this still
I careen recklessly forward
slick roads and all
Eyes closed

Flames catch all

Quote ~ ~ Lisa ~ 1 Comment

I thought
and truly there is nothing
I would dash to rescue in the flames
my heart is intact
my hands can write
my eyes can fall on those I love
my arms can wrap around them
my mind is alive with joy and memories
brighter than the fire
and hotter still…
knowing this, I’d stand and watch
as the flames catch all

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Burning Down the House.”

Home soil rain

Quote ~ ~ Lisa ~ 3 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Free Association.”

I’m beginning to realize
how comfortably your fingers
twine with mine
hands like home
linger, mingle
such warmth I haven’t felt
a simple acceptance of me
with all my faults and alarming tendencies
that soil my beauty queen persona
we are simple together, you and me
we bring no complication
easy as the weather
sunshine, rain
and just as predictable
meaning, not at all
you have become my safety
my calm