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