Old Man Young

his shirt is black and shiny,
like his skin

he is looking out over the bridge
and the sun is beating down
he is watching the birds
soaring and weaving

"Once," he thought, "a long time ago, I had youth."
but his youth has gone
the lines on his face are like the rings
in a tree

"Who took my body, and left me this dried husk?"

the cars are flying past him
and he is the lamp post on the street
except to a girl,
who sees him with her dark eyes
and writes him down

her imagination remembers him as he was,
so many years ago

On The Day She Learned To Tribe

Yesterday, I caught a glimpse of the ethereal threads that bind us all together.
They were gossamer and fragile, and
shimmering, like the sun on a spiderweb, that is strung among the leaves.

I am learning that "tribe" exists in the every day encounter.

I am learning that "sister" is a broad, encompassing term that has very little to do with blood, age, or the color of skin. The number of sisters you have is limited only by the number of women you know.

I am learning that "beauty" is vast and powerful, and sometimes hovers below the skin's surface, waiting for the one that will appreciate it. Then it unleashes in awesome and terrifying glory.

I am learning that the strongest bonds and most profound friendships (the ones that take your breath away) are sometimes the ones that are forged in seconds, instead of years.

I am learning that Dance is no trivial movement of muscles, but rather a canvas on which the best dancers apply the many hues of human emotion. The most brilliant dancers paint in technicolor, but sometimes monochrome is all we know.

I am learning how to speak my truths.

Monsieur Bellocq

last night I dreamt
of perfect photographic images,
(the subject of each was blurred)
a white cat,
my friend Rebecca, and
a gentleman who only wanted
to take my picture -

to look and never touch

From My Window, As I Miss You

1. the steam from my cup
2. the low murmur of voices
3. the glint of light on the chrome
4. the moss between the bricks
5. the strum of the mandolin
6. the wag of the tail
7. the hand nestled in the pocket
8. the cheery rustle of the morning paper
9. the cracks in the tile
10. the sharp click of her heels on it
11. the keys dangling from the hand
12. the creak of the old wooden door

you are all of these to me
and more.

I've Come To Realize...

1. I've come to realize that my body:
can do everything I ask of her, if I treat her as friend instead of enemy.

2. I've come to realize that my job:
is, for better and worse, an extension of me.

3. I've come to realize that when I'm driving:
I can get a lot of thinking done if I leave the music off.

4. I've come to realize that I need:
infinite quantities of grace, movement, and more water.

5. I've come to realize that I have lost:
my temper far too many times.

6. I've come to realize that I hate:
superficiality. Let's be real in front of each other, folks.

7. I've come to realize that if I'm drunk:
it must've been really strong wine. I cut myself off after a glass or three.

8. I've come to realize that money:
is a funny thing.

9. I've come to realize that certain people:
will never figure it out. And that makes me very sad.

10. I've come to realize that I'll always:
dance.

11. I've come to realize that my sibling:
is beautiful and special and is capable of being a very great friend.

12. I've come to realize that my mom:
and I get along better with a little distance between us.

13. I've come to realize that my cell phone:
is a nasty little contraption that I use for only the most rudimentary of functions.

14. I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning:
I was so grateful to see the sunshine.

15. I've come to realize that last night before I went to sleep:
I missed my husband.

16. I've come to realize that right now I am thinking:
how sleepy and hungry I am.

17. I've come to realize that my dad:
and I don't know each other very well.

18. I've come to realize that when I get on Facebook:
I hate how excited I get to see the new notifications.

19. I've come to realize that today:
was an undeserved gift.

20. I've come to realize that tonight:
is exactly the way it should be.

21. I've come to realize that tomorrow:
is in an hour.

22. I've come to realize that I really want to:
travel the world before it changes any more, or before any more history is lost.

23. I've come to realize that the person who is most likely to re-post this is:
you.

24. I've come to realize that life:
is so very short.

25. I've come to realize that this weekend:
I will be working three shifts in a row, again.

26. I've come to realize the best music to listen to when I am upset is:
New Orleans jazz or Debussy.

27. I've come to realize that my friends:
are growing in number and strength, the older I get.

28. I've come to realize that this year:
is almost over, and it's been jam-packed.

29. I've come to realize that my ex:
was a beautiful soul that I wish all the happiness for in the world.

30. I've come to realize that maybe I should:
clean my house.

31. I've come to realize I love:
my life.

32. I've come to realize that I don't understand:
the "High School Musical" generation. Or texting.

33. I've come to realize my past:
is unfortunate. But is not the future.

34. I've come to realize that parties:
are mostly a lame throwback to high school dances.

35. I've come to realize that I'm totally terrified:
of dying young.

36. I've come to realize that my life:
fits.

I Found What I Needed

dance when you're broken open.
dance if you've torn the bandage off.
dance in the middle of the fighting.
dance in your blood.
dance when you're perfectly free.
~Rumi

i felt broken and raw.
we ripped off the bandages.
we fought
old wounds bled
quick cuttings and stabs
the flash of knives
there was blood, yours and mine
it ran together on the ground
it no longer mattered
then i felt free

what i carry with me

what if i were to trip on the sidewalk,
my life spilling out of the neat little bag i have it in,
spewing out on the pavement
at a stranger's feet

would they stoop to help me collect
the tiny bits of things
that comprise me?
and what would they see?

minute shards of splintered vanity and fraying bits of fashion
all the things i clutch to me
to validate me
and prove to me that i am worthy

would they notice the need,
rolling down to the gutter?
the need to see the world clearly
the need for the world to see me?

and what about the words?
all the words i've woven
to wrap around me, to save me and
keep at arms length everything else

would they pretend not to see
the scraps of melancholy
that shade my world with grey

amidst the tampons, the lipgloss,
the rosary, the pens, the agenda,
the cards, the stamps and the
pieces of paper with words written on

would they see me?
would they see through to me?

not the me on the surface,
with all the hairline cracks and
the big plastic smile

but the me i am when i'm alone