i wonder if you wonder if i wonder...
about
that time they were delivering the green leather sofa
and we spent eight hours while you waited ... expecting a knock on the
door
and the burly guys with the caps on their heads turned all sideways
as they tried to come up with the plan for how to avoid scratching the
doorjam
as they wedged that thing in and plopped it down in it's place.
i wonder.. has that couch stayed in that very same spot all these years?
do you ever sit down in it's soft, squishy cushions and wonder if i'm
wondering?
do you put your head down on pillows at one end and prop your "soft"
feet up on the
other end and close your eyes...
dreaming of two summers ago.. or three even?
i wonder.. as time and space define and deliver and give and take away.
to say that your spirit is broken makes the springs sag on that sofa..
delivery day was the beginning of strength and future.
tomorrow i go to the dentist to end the agony of the fifth tooth on the top
to the left..
i heard you counting them and your voice couldn't break up as you put
each finger to
each tooth...
then you tell me your spirit is broken.
that's giving up.. how come you did that?
they'll drill away the decay and pack it all new and neat with silver and
flavors i'd rather not taste.. i wish i could lie on the green leather sofa
while you held my hand and they put the needle to my gums..
i can't have a broken spirit.. it's not in me.
words fail me
colors blew into me
from your breath and your blue veins.
sweaty and raging hues.
and i stepped out
like a fairy tale... out as we rented the moon.
tatoos were drawn in our minds eye.
scented heat cocooned us,
protecting us from ourselves.
time & space were the only foes
and we fell into purples & soft pinks
together alone.
soft evening shadows
only diluted the colors.
then they slept until morning.. yours or mine.
when the sun opened her blossoms,
the painting unveiled once again.
you've created an artist in me
with your passion & anger.
the strokes tremble in us
doing "what we love"..
no yesterdays will ever know
the tomorrow we've become..
ya cebie koham...
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hhmmm, having been put in the position of "trying" to be clever with the content of this bio, i find myself at a loss. i'm better at the impromptu i believe. anyway, i write "poetry" which my family and friends patronizingly say is fine. however, the professor at our local college, (Bucks County, Pa. Poet Laureate for several years) seemed to have quite a different and less complimentary opinion. (smile).. i write for therapy which is more than any person should expect. it seems to be safer than medication and a lot less expensive.
i'm not an artist, a photographer, a musician, or a math teacher. i do APPRECIATE art, film, music and i like math. (smile).. i travel the highway and i have 13 earrings in my left ear. that's all i can think of that's "clever". |
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