Thunder

Let me tell you something.
I have opened my mouth
to a great amount of nothing
and gotten everything
out of it.
We have gotten
everything
out of it,
you and I
made a song
out of each others' synapses
and they called it
The Symphony of Loneliness.
Yeah,
We were trite like that,
Made of small packets of sound bytes like that,
Quiet
Wasn’t even in our vocabulary
So I said go ahead,
Bite down on my crazy
Suck the marrow clean out,

Listen
You are motorcycle handlebars
I hold on for dear life
When I should just enjoy
The heat on my legs,
The thunder in my hips.

When did you start thinking
You could hush my percussion?
When did you start thinking
You could pirate my calm?
When I said, “hold me baby”
I didn’t mean at bay.
Say what you want,
But you will never
Haunt me enough
To wish you back to me.
Your teeth
Were the size of terror.
Your bite
Was the sound of heartbreak.
Break your gaze on my fist
Take this, so you will remember
That when I said buy me a ring,
I didn’t mean leave ringing in my ears.

Honestly.

You still make me shiver
with your hands full of quiver
and your teeth full of shake.
Make me feel your ocean
and bury my head in the sand,
but you will never
comprehend
how to silence
the song in my bones.

Ruth

(another short one today...)

My wrists have your name

Carved into them,

So that your lips

know where home is.

X marks the spot.

Pieces

I could not stay and

watch you go to pieces, dear.

I am broken too.

Seismic (WIP)

A quick blurb to keep me honest... I'll play with it soon. For now, enjoy what I have found within myself:

You cannot hold the seismic quality of my laugh; any attempt to do so will destroy your concept of heartbeat. Of Heaven. Of Hell. Of healing touches and tongues across teeth. Beneath every wrinkle are treasure maps. Reach out and pull my lapse in judgment out; do you doubt the strength of my belief, just because I do not say "in Jesus name we pray" and pray directly to my Father? I have walked farther in these coccoons than you have in your monsoons and my grace has never been considered from the wrong season. There is no reason for you to grip my laugh so tight - it is anchored in my windpipe so it does not blow away.

Shiver

You still make me shiver

with your hands full of quiver

and your teeth full of shake.

Make me feel your ocean

and bury my head in the sand,

but you will never

comprehend

how to silence

the song in my bones.

Seasons of Love (WIP)

You remind me of sunflowers in the summer,

You remind me of snowflakes in the winter,

You remind me of birth in the springtime

And in autumn, you remind me of falling.

Hard, and fast.

But sometimes, slowly.

Staccato.

Keystrokes on a piano.

I have never been wise enough

To play an instrument,

But if I ever had the talent,

I would serenade you

With an entire symphony

Because my voice will never carry

Enough

Of our memories to the table

To make this any kind of Thanksgiving feast.

I don’t want you to eat my words.

I just wish that you would listen.

Just listen.

Crack

It hurts too much to talk about.

But let’s talk about it anyway.

See

The way the light hits you

Is like

too many whiskey sours

Like

hours behind closed doors,

Like

sharing one word in common

With the floor

CRACK

Can mean so many different things.

My body

Remembers singing

Yours to sleep,

Holding your breath like a promise

To my cheek

And knowing

That we could

Exhale.

The fumigators said

That the air was too toxic,

Said there was no hope of recovery,

The carbon-monoxonated atmosphere

Was beyond repair.

Get out.

Get out

Of my bloodstream,

Let the flood waters recede.

I am a tree

That was immaculately conceived.

I have no roots.

Nowhere to go.

Nowhere to run.

Nothing to hold me

While you bark hard

Against my bite.

Light hits our thighs

Like an afterthought

We could not recognize each other

Through the hot and the bother

The hot and the shiver

Take my teeth

And sink into this.

I can’t do this anymore.

Crack.

I can’t do this anymore.

This

This piece was written for a performance at JMU's Take Back The Night 2012. Such a moving, beautiful event... if you've never heard about Take Back The Night, go right now and look it up. Truly something that everyone should know about.

The inspiration for this piece comes from Anis Mojgani's wonderful piece "Shake The Dust". You'll notice a great similarity in styles, but I promise that each word is my own. Enjoy!

This

is for those moments

when you have stared so hard

at the mirror

that she cannot hold your gaze.

This

is for the haze

through which you have

experienced pain and

the dull ache of the morning after,

for swinging from the rafters

and crashing back into reality.

This

is for those of us

that do not remember.

This

is also for those of us

that do remember.

This

is for those of us

that have

jet engine voice boxes,

for those of us that earthquake

every time we cry.

For those of us

that try and hold a candle

to the face

of their fears

and find a great vast

nothingness.

This

is for those of us

who until tonight

did not know how to

create sound,

for those of us

who hear gunshots

in every footstep

and find bullet shells

in our tear ducts.

This

is for those of us

that have friends

that don't come around anymore,

because they don't speak

the same dialect of Shame,

for the outspoken

who cannot give

their fear a name.

This

is for the lost

and the nameless.

For the aimless wanderers

who try to feel

but cannot dial sensation

back into their fingertips.

This

is for the rips

left gaping open.

This

is for hoping

that the sun will open

its eyes again.

This

is for the men

who don't shower

naked

anymore.

This

is for the layered

who constantly feel

exposed.

This

is for the hidden eyes

who never had time

to pose the question

“will it hurt?”

Tell me.

Will it hurt.

This

is for your insect-ridden skin,

for doubt finding its way in..

For trust that does not know how

to come home to you.

For rust

that has eaten away

at so many things

but what is meant

to be taken away.

This

is for the porch light

in your rib cage

that needs you to believe harder.

Clap louder.

Live bigger.

This

is for the women.

This

is also for the men.

Most importantly,

This

is for you.

Yes, you.

May you peel back the paint

from the walls closing in your mind

and let my truth shine through.

Tell everyone

that will ever question

the strength of your heart

to pull back and let

arrows bound with love letters

addressed to every dark corner

of your body

sing hallelujah through the air.

This

is for the worth it.

This

is for the powerful.

This

is for the lionhearted

dragon fighters

who will speak out

with flaming tongues

and flashing lungs

filled with song.

Play your music,

you beautiful warrior -

ward off evil

with your eyes made of steel.

When your heart

forgets how to beat,

let my words become your

cadence -

I will pound

the sensation

back into you.

I will tree root you

in this life,

when you feel like

the wind is so insistent

that you would look better

six feet under.

Shake everything

from your eardrums

and listen.

Lie between my syllables,

and rest.

I am here

to tell you

that you are

safe.

I have been waiting

to tell you that

since the night

you fell asleep

from the fear,

erased the world

behind your eyelids

like stains in the carpet

that you don't bother

explaining anymore.

This is to whom it may concern:

I am here to tell you

this no longer concerns

you.