Thursday, July 28, 2011
Don't Come Around
Don’t Come Around
©carol voccia 2011
Don’t come pressing around me
When the mood strikes
And then leave
Taking with you my salt
Where do you get the grit thinking
I will be there to catch you with each whim?
I lost my net a long time ago and my edges
Are slippery
Think twice about
Dividing your time without the “giving back” part
Your web will be without one of
Its prongs soon enough
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Proof of Happiness
Proof of Happiness
© carol voccia 2010 july....
.. ..
In a pile of letters with X’s and O’s
Scratched and worn out vinyl discs
Hours more play in them
Causing distorted memories
Blurred reality at its best
Baskets of cards
Certificates of a job well done, pay stubs and tax credits
Holiday get a-ways
Just in time, finding time, if we only had time
Port wine spilled and stained
Permanently affixed on moms favorite table cloth
Hide it under the turkey so she won’t see
By the fire, you kneeling on silk
A wish
A plea
A soft glow moment
My to-do list, your I’ll get’er done list and the
Quiet times admiring the triumphs of
All done
Half done
Never got done
.. ..
Inspiring flics, baby pix, the friends and family mix
Quilts, finger paints, the urn with daddy’s ashes
The time we slept naked in the yard
Regrets -bins of them ordered in priority
Sins taken lightly
Left on the curb
....
My art, your poems
Your art, my poetry
Tucked in books
Tucked in sack lunches
Tucked inside my veins
A new me, a new you, a re-invention out of the old version
Jewelry given
Pressed flowers
Letters from your mom
The dog’s baby teeth in a jar
The cat claw marks on the back of the couch
Your photo
Your eyes smiling
A warm hug and passionate kiss
A mirror inside me shinning for you to see
Slips
Slips
© carol voccia 2011
.. ..
My fingers slip
Under your
Shirt
My face pressing your fabric
You roll the tips of my hair
In your absent mindedness
We ride fogged and tired
When the night sleep creeps
The designs of the day
Are creased on my face
Sliding away into the hard night
You evaporate in mystery
.. ..
Standing alone
Blue tumbles
From the belly of me
Friday, July 15, 2011
The Lie
The Lie
I slept with your potential and found it a corpse my arms on awakening
Your ashen outline desinigrated within the linens
My eyes suddenly clear
I woke discovering your dream was a lie
Loyal only to your own demise
For promise and charm fell to its knees and choked
Gulping its own narcissistic spew
In reality your potential’s breathe
Was only thinly lined against silver
And glass
Mirrored too insincere to last
Too thoughtless to weather truth
Too empty a vessel to rely on
My thanks to Aliester Crowley for the inspiration
JMH
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