that's mrs. mediocrity to you

is it okay that i’m not trying to change the world?
that most days i’m content just to change my pajamas
and that most months, most years
i consider myself lucky to have made it this far
because it’s all so damn complicated
and
is it okay that all i really have are questions
all i’ve ever had are questions and that i get sick
and tired of hearing all those answers being shouted
from other people’s rooftops when i know they are
in just as much danger of slipping off as i am
and
is it okay that some nights i can’t sleep
because the walls can’t hold all the things
in my heart and my hands scribble scrabble
in a vain attempt t0 clean up all my messes,
knitting words that never see the light of day
and
is it okay that i don’t need to be fixed
because surely i’m not broken, i’ve seen broken
and my soul is nobody’s business but my own
in fact it’s whole and beautiful even if it is
lined with purple shadows of doubt
and
is it okay that some nights i just want to sit
by the fire with a book in my hands
that takes me anywhere but here and it’s not
because i need to escape my life
it’s just that some days i’m tired
and
i just don’t feel like changing the world,
some days i just want to be in it
up to my neck like quicksand in it
feeling it squish between my toes
and dragging me down down down

before i float away?

.

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

especially one that sinks fangs
into the flesh above your knee
head shaking, throat growling, eyes

closed.

but you can stand before her

open,

knowing all the while that bare
and vulnerable share a cupboard,
always swapping dresses and

complaining of the cold.

.

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

she crawls on her belly
through a barbed-wire world
eating hope and fire
as they drip down to earth
from all kinds of secret places
in the sky

her life is lived
in moments of peace
and she lies on her belly
in a bed made of mud
as her fingers form clay
into bowls of tomorrow

she collects
heart-shaped stones
curves sticks
into smiles
and empties fossils
from her pockets
at sundown

her tears
mix with seed
to grow
night-blooming vines
in shades of lavender
and purple
to be braided
into bracelets
for the moon

she has words
as companions
and silver
for protection
and if you
put your ear
to the ground
you can listen
to her heart

beat

.

.

.

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

it was no coincidence that you crossed my path
grey winged and sharp shinned
causing me to trip on my own shadow

you rose high in the sky, the color of winter
and i felt your power fall back to earth
in a tiny tumbleweed of promises.

my hope never meant as much as your survival
and no one has ever measured up to your glare
but she called you icarus in a threaded whisper

that still echoes through each moonlit night
in the season of cold and the year of empty
like the drip and song of icicles melting.

the fact that you soar is my forgiveness.

.

.

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

there was a piper to pay
but no debt was ever collected.

she sang her song with no melody
to birds with no freedom.

her skirts were always
too long too loud too tight,

her heels were always
too low to be sexy or
too high to be graceful,

and there was always
a hole in her stockings.

love was never
the partner she followed,

but it was always there
in the steps
that she took.

.

.

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

::

Name one gift that 2011 gave you; what treasure
came your way gift wrapped in experience?

::

among other things,

there was this:

venus, the moon,

and a husband

who knows

how much

i would love

to see them.

::

{reverb11} check it out here

the day you swept my heart out to sea

the sun hung in the sky like a beacon

always the point i could not reach.

.

i swam through a safety net full of

holes as sharks bruised my legs

but left me to my misery.

.

salt water tears mingled with

fresh water expectations and

kept me afloat despite my desire

to sink

into the depths of disillusion.

.

years later, a raft floated by.

:

i could have reached out and

hoisted myself onto

that sparse, dry bed but

instead, i closed my eyes,

bobbing, skating, skimming

the surface of my

sanctuary.

::

::

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

what happens to all
the questions
that go
unanswered?

what space do they
fill,
what mirror reveals
their reflection?

i see them sometimes
at night
when my eyes are filled
with insomnia

they glow in the dark,
a little

offering up silhouettes
and sibilance

but the edges
are always

blurred

and

when i reach my hand out
in the dark
there is nothing

there

but

i hear whispers

tiny bits
of vowel and consonant
syllable
inflection
rejection
perfection

hints of laughter

it’s funny though,
the way i never
hear

music.

::

::

::

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

there are worse things to be
than slightly worn
rough around the edges
used up
dried out
splintered

.

there is green
and just beginning
starting over
fragile innocence
curling up
towards the sun

.

there is the burn
and the tear
scabbing over
forming callous
swallowing
bitter

.

there is the waiting
the always
waiting
and the brief
shimmer
of possibility

.

there is
the growing
and the living
and the knowing
and the dying.
there is always

this

.

::

::

::

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

you fold me into
your arms
and i cry
the tears
of existence.

i borrow my
grandmother’s
shoes and
dance in a veil
of moonlight.

you peer into
a dark mirror
and find
nothing but
silence and stars.

i take your hand
and i fill it
with the
beat beat beat
of my heart.

you reach
for the sky and
spill tattered bits
of worn blue velvet
to the ground.

we are all just
questions of hope
wrapped gently
in the cloak
of reality.

::

::

::

this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!