More: [Poem]: Myself

“Myself”

I think I’ll go out with myself tonight

and ignore my doubts, like thieves,

lingering like evil garden gnomes

beneath sanity’s duplicitous eaves.

I have never been a social genius

with intentions written on my sleeve

as to whether I should do this or that

such is familiar isolation, I believe.

I have always belonged to silence

though I’ve often wanted to weave

others into my coy, curt existence—

how quickly that thought does peeve!  

I think I’ll go out with myself tonight,

make friends with she-who-grieves,

because I don’t belong to dialogue

but the description of fallen leaves.

More: [Poem]: Humor

‘Humor’

Humor at 1AM

brings me back

to yesterdays

of mottled rust

and a swing set

falling apart.

He was younger

and shorter then;

I was his big sister

in more than age.

I never thought

his golden hair

would darken

as much as it did.

Funny how time does

strange things

especially to people

even if we don’t

want anything to change.

Still, it never took away

the beauty of his laugh.

Humor at 1AM

would be obsolete

without it,

and I would be

someone else.

More: [Poem]: we could have

'we could have'

we could have clung

to the memories

of days long gone

spent in summer grass

singing ‘Rodeo’

and sounding

like old coon hounds

instead of Garth Brooks

but you went your way

my rebel sister, you

always barefoot and blond

with a Twain charm

and a boundless thirst

for adventure

i should have known

memories weren’t enough

but i was never one

for predicting, was i?

it’s hard to think about ‘could’

when the only word i hear

is the silent, ‘can’t’

so i’ll just say no more

More: [Poem]: you

‘you’

I’m glad the world

never told me

about the eccentricities

of you

and how your humor

lifts my spirits

when they are down

and blue.

Sometimes, you are

lurid like a Les Paul

in the hands of

‘Pride and Joy’s’ master;

others,

sad like a Stradivarius violin

who struggles

and fears going faster.

I’m glad the world

never told me—

not even in the faintest whisper

for I learned it all my own,

what it means to say,

“You’re my sister.”