Saturday, April 7, 2012

When Desperate Times called Desperate Measures


Over the phone line during a frantic time
Desperate Times called Desperate Measures.

She meditated on the floor of her room, eyes closed 
As his whispers described lazy locations 
And quickly melting dreams.
She felt connected to him.

The weight of her soft blue words
Causing his heavy head to meet the soft pillow
A lump formed in his throat from
Empty promises and per diem dinners.

Thanks for calling out of the blue, he says,
Next time I will be sure to call you.

Vintage Film Series

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

“If I were the marrying kind, and I thank the lord I’m not sir”

Through her coral colored finger nails
Between her permanently lined,
Continuously pouty dark ruby lips
My cousin worries out loud about never getting married.

She is eight months my junior
Her sweet Southern drawl
Covers her intelligence
Making her meek concern sound reasonable to my ears.
Am I the marrying kind?

The thought sticks to my mind like tree sap.
As my female friends are falling like blossom petals,
My relationships begin and end with wildfires.
Slash and burn the continued path ahead
Successfully clearing an average of two relationships per year.

I take a deep breath and sigh,
“We are the marrying kind…”
I trail off; my cousin shivers off the thought
To avoid the engagement grim reaper.

I appease her with my words
And thank the lord I’m not her.

---

Poetry Think Links:
Title Lyrics
Wedding Industry Statistics from The Knot
Marriage and Divorce from CDC
The Gay Law Report

Friday, March 30, 2012

Monday, March 26, 2012

Walk Me Out

He raced down the stairs of his townhouse
In black boxer briefs and socks.
My heart lifted with my eyes.

I had my hand on the doorknob
Ready to slip out unnoticed
Like a famous monument to city dwellers.

He caught me
Gave me an eyebrow raise
A casual smile

He slide my way on the hardwood floors
Placed his arm around my waist
A quick kiss

Thursday, March 22, 2012

How do you eat a soft boiled egg?

Last winter we decided to meet in England for Easter.
As he came in, I tried to smell his presence in the room.
He always smelled of nothing.
We kissed on both cheeks, not letting our bodies touch.

I started my morning with cold hands and soft boiled eggs
He started his by being late and with hot coffee.
The conversation twists and turns made me feel
More dazed with from my warm beer hangover.

My new wool sweater scratched my neck
His new glasses are tortes shell and square.
My arteries atrophied from a restless romance in Romania
His wrist wrecked from snow skiing in Slovenia.

We decided to meet in New York for New Year’s.
As breakfast ended, he smiled.
I smiled back, said nothing and drank my last bit of tea.
We kissed on both cheeks, not letting our bodies touch.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Wedding Day at Mizzou

If God is for us, who can be against us? Romans (8:31)

Melissa may I marry you?

Your heart shaped face in my hands
We would kiss at the alter in white dresses

My hands are wrinkled while yours are smooth
I will be your shepherd through these fields

I will protect you from the world
Cherish you as you deserve

Source: Facebook

Rachel Heal the World with Your Thoughts

Search the Scriptures John (5:39)

Rachel, may I call you satchel?

Carry the weight of my crinkled thoughts
Scribbled across the pages of your Bible

I run my fingers across your brow
Rummage through you to find the words

Kiss me please and we will run together
Quietly through all books in your library

Source: Facebook


Sunday, March 18, 2012

If you know Zoey, this is a typical life happening:
Zoey falls in love with a French girl and leaves her for a high paying job in New York. Typical...


Because you told me over soufflé you wanted me to write to you.
---
‘Alo

Over the phone your voice sounds hallow but happy
You close the door to your New York City office
To catch up with an old fling.
She is dating someone new, so are you.
You continue to feel fireflies swirling behind your eyes
You a picture a small jar on your desk filled with the lightening bugs.
You quit smoking together
You always splurged on French wine.

You picture her cheeky panties dancing in your first French apartment
The dishes were never clean, she was never there
Your records and books were never organized, she was never there
A new couch more appealing than an old bed
Even when the sheets were clean.
The second apartment would never come.
New York City called and with a double cheek kiss and a sweet, Ca va?
She left you at the airport.

She only needed to stay one night in the city
Your ears buzz. You blink. You pause. You say, “Oui oui.”
She says, Merci, my love, see you at 6.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

How to be alone...

A friend sent me this video poem today at work. Thank you, Grego of Kibitzers.


I have great friends.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Airplane Pain

    
As the airplane rose over the horizon, I pictured us.
Sitting in the sticky district heat backs against the wrought iron railing
Our bare feet pressed together mimicking how our bodies often were.

Summer with you felt as cool as a freshly skinned knee.
I sucked air through my gritted teeth after I fell, knowing the pain.

I hated how the scab healed in autumn.
It itched with hesitation and conversation.
The scab had almost healed when winter came.
Thankfully the air was dry and it peeled off again.

Friday, May 28, 2010

New Follower

So I would not call myself a blogger. I don't spend time writing about my day or take pictures of funny things, but it is my goal to start doing those things.

I got excited today because I had one follower! But when I clicked on the link...I realized I am some how following myself. How digitally embarrassing!

Things have got to change.

A

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Ads

Sad day.
Clouds loom in my headphones.
Pandora has ads now.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Blog Number 730,000

"Hello Digital world! Please enjoy my thoughts"


Here they come out of my mouth like a Wordpress fountain.
Journal entries redefined by digital calligraphy.
Poetic techniques taken from the stars
Shinning bright against my thoughts at night

Blog 1
A. Clem.
Journal aka My Mind Blog