Front Porch Poems

March 14th, 2008

2008-08-04T17:47:00.000-07:00

It was the biggest snow storm of the year they said
she watched it on the television as she sat out on her sunny porch
wondered exactly what the cold would feel like
was bored of permanent summer

"Every snowflake is unique."

She learned that in second grade
used her scissors to cut one out of paper
saw the snow on the mountains to the east
but her parents never drove her there
not even for the day

She bought herself a pair of boots
good for 40 below
and a ski hat that she wore like a fashion statement
people called it cute
she called it wishful thinking

The next summer a friend asked her to go down under
it was winter there and she was ready
had a jacket full of down
stood inside her friends walk in freezer to prepare

When she got off the plane it was July
they went to the resort
her friend was going to snowboard
left her at the bottom of the mountain
she stood in the snow drift alone
for the first time ever in the cold
and felt little
the flakes landing on her one by one

She tried, but she just couldn't find the snow flake that matched her

January 27th, 2008

2008-03-14T14:10:00.001-07:00

It made him smile when it was half past any time
He loved clocks
the ticking
the dainty hands
the chimes that called the hour
He kept three in the house
only one was wound
If he had his way he would have had them set to
places he thought seemed exotic
Alice Springs, Calcutta, Johannesberg, Prague, Reykjavik
It was all the places he'd dream of going
on snowy nights
and hot sticky humid days
But he was too shy
would never want to bother the neighbors
with all the bells
so he kept the key in his pocket
and just imagined how he would feel if it were six o'clock
twelve o'clock
nine o'clock
and not three

December 9th, 2007

2008-01-26T15:50:00.001-08:00

her hands were so small next to the storm
small and chapped
there was cream in her purse
but she did not take it out
instead
she looked up
at the dark clouds

there was rain on her eyelashes
that looked almost green
even though
it was not the kind of storm
where the roof blows off a house
or a girl ends up on top of a witch
wishing for home

that might be better
than the one she was in

her storm
never ending
was more
a tempest in a teapot
a little bitter
and wishing for honey

she pulled her coat closed
and crossed the street

October 18th, 2007

2007-12-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

she walked the dusty path to the observatory every other day
it was always bright out
but she still tilted her head upwards to search the blue sky for stars
she never saw any
except for the bright sun shining
but she knew the stars were there
shining strongly like her heart
but deep in hiding

October 9th, 2007

2007-10-18T14:31:00.001-07:00

What do we really know about the word broken?
except that it is something that we want so badly
that sits suddenly in pieces at our feet
with shards too small to glue back together

but we try anyway
forgetting that there are
essential pieces
left out
when finally reassembled

for sure!
from far away the cracks
always seem invisible
like the thing was really mended

but closer inspection brings only sadness
for what sits upon the shelf
once so whole and beautiful
is now only a shadow

September 21st, 2007

2007-10-09T12:37:00.000-07:00

she kept her heart
there in the pantry
resting on the shelf
between the cans of food
the potatoes
and the spice rack

she liked to think
that perhaps it would
be tasty
in a soup
or a stew

while in that little room
gathering the ingredients
for delivering the love
of an open heart
she noticed the sugar
and fingered the flour
noticed the sugar
and decided that
perhaps
baked in a cake
would be the best
way to present it

she imagined it warm
right out of the oven
and words she would
spell in cursive
with icing
it would be a novel
about adventure
and mystery

The first word would be
"Together"

August 20th, 2007

2007-09-21T15:16:00.001-07:00

In August, while sitting on my porch, observing the brown lawn, I remark casually to the flower boxes that the sun beats down too hard and that there is no rain.

I notice that after I say it, even the most hopeful flower feels doomed to have its pretty petals curl slightly black.

The bees laugh because they know that a little black looks good with any outfit.

They are not afraid to buzz about it singing an accidental tune in the key of G.

The hummingbirds join in, darting around my head. Their wings like fine silky dresses, dancing to a slow romantic waltz.

My fairy Godmother, Hollywood, turns me into an animated princess with a whistle on her lips, glass slipper on her foot and an invitation to crash the ball.

In August, in my garden, there are oranges and roses and a vine that snakes five times along the fence.

And the ladybugs are careful to avoid the thorns and are always worried about the state of the soil.

Regardless, they fly to my fingers landing and leaving me with just enough time to make three wishes.

One. Two. Three.

August 9th, 2007

2007-08-20T18:24:00.000-07:00

With you it seems as though there are always arms
Warm and wide
And sunlight streaming on the bed
My glass of water always half-full
With delight

Delicious
Is the way my honey runs
When you pull me sweet and sticky
like a warm summer day
My one and two
My Sunday blue
My I always knew
My me and you

July 19th, 2007

2007-08-09T16:18:00.001-07:00

When I close my blue
and wrap my long
around your thin
I see stars

when we kiss
whether near or far
it's like a dream

there are worlds
in my eyes now
that live because
you are so much like the sun

And me, I am finally warm

June 14, 2007

2007-07-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

I think it's funny

how perfect strangers will call you names

like sweetheart

or honey

or darling

And mean it

it's so easy for them to say

out loud

and certainly makes the days more pleasant

going from place to place

especially when I feel low

or sad

or blue

feels like

the world is trying

really trying

to spread a little warmth

May 12, 2007

2007-06-14T16:45:00.001-07:00

She had a small life

Shuffling around her house

Doing the chores

watching the 6 PM news

then again at 11

She was quiet when she read her books

Or did her nightly prayers

But her eyes lit up

when she talked of ocean journey's

and the friends, now long dead, who'd gone there with her

the tastes still remembered

of a meal she'd had in 1955

she'd talk of voyages as she rocked

and drank lilet

ice clinking

when anyone cared to ask

or remember that she was once young

and full of adventure

she'd talk for hours

using her inhaler to get her through the funny parts of the story

but then she'd get tired

and turn in early for bed

and happily slip a $5 bill in your pocket

just for your remembering that she was once that girl

who met the world

face on

and not this tired old quiet thing

April 6, 2007

2007-05-16T20:45:00.001-07:00

A perfect fit I threw at you

Between the water and the fish

I swung around my bottle of desire

Crazy thoughts you think of me

Insecurity, I believe

Your closed doors

My empty tanks

Of ice cold hooks

And wrinkled flanks

Your ears too large to hold my tongue

I cast my line

And return quite numb

To find you here

Below the wake

Your heart so long

So ragged

I break

March 10, 2007

2007-04-06T19:49:00.000-07:00

Eavesdropping on Thumbelina

I didn't mind telling the story
About my heart
To my friend the bartender
With the regulars sitting next to me
Listening in
While nursing their fourth pints
house wines
vodka tonics
and a scotch - neat

I'm sure that I've told
So many of my secrets
To her
Right out loud
Sitting at that bar
With the regulars
Leaning on their elbows
Staring ahead with glassy eyes
Hearing me when I am
Hopeful or Sad
Cheerful or Angry
Cautious or Hurt

This time
Most likely
They are happy for me
Listening in
Not meaning to eavesdrop
On my heart
Which feels brand new
And calmly hopeful
While trying to make sense of that night

They now know
Even if you don't
That I'm OK with whatever it was
Even if it was just a one time thing
And not forever
Although for the record
I'm pulling for forever

Those drunks
They probably wish they could say
"Thumbelina,
I hope it works out for you."

But instead they nod
In that silent way that drunks do
Which really means
"Cheers, little lady."

And they take another sip
Or order another drink

I should probably say to them
Just once
"Boys, this round is on me."

February 3, 2007

2007-03-10T13:20:00.001-08:00

All I wanted was a straight shooter
A quick load
With no hassle
Who had a trail to follow,
Kind words,
and paid some attention to detail.

Instead there are tumbleweeds
And saloons filled with player piano music
The notes all out of key
And poor dancing

Where are the sunsets and roses
And pebbles on windows
The hand holding
And you and me
giggling like two little kids
with a secret?

I thought that the rough rider
in you
longing to be tamed
would finally settle
with a nice pioneer girl
like me.

Instead there is only dust
and stars in the skies
and a silence
that makes my horses impatient.

January 3rd, 2007

2007-02-03T19:23:00.001-08:00

Talking of tea
and
cucumber sandwiches
at the cafe in Amherst
with the literary ladies
our coffee stained teeth
and
laptops open
fingers clicking
on keyboards

I could not help
but be aware
of Emily Dickinsons ghost
probably
she was sitting
at her window
across the street
having a good laugh
at us
while we toiled away
she sure knew the feeling

Me
I pinched myself
twice

my character
she is always
keeping secrets
from me

Couldn't think
of the next line
she might say
nor
the contents
of her heart

Instead I bit the polish
off my thumb
and glowed
sitting with
with the literary ladies
now with cake on our teeth
and I smiled
cause I was one of them now

knew for sure
I'd come home
having written
a little something
then later
try to have a dream
about you
but not you

December 24, 2006

2007-01-03T21:14:00.001-08:00

You told me
That when you were young
You had a patch on your pants
That said STOP!
Like the sign on the street
Directing traffic

You said that with your friends
You would command the playground
With the tricycles and the big wheels
By bending over and showing your ass
Telling the other kids what was what
And that they obeyed

When you were at my house
Older now
Full and warm
Dressed
And wearing your fab pair of jeans
There was no STOP sign on you
That I could see
Telling me what to do
So
I just went
And it was GO all the way. .

December 16th, 2006

2006-12-24T19:06:00.000-08:00

She had no craft to sail
It was all wind
and torn sheets
a piece of wood
and some twist ties

she had to make do

When the storm hit
while wearing her scoop neck dress
and open back to the wind
she was bailing water out
with her 1940s pump

She didn't mind though
because once she made it ashore
she'd head straight for town
ring the bell
and show every scar on her body
to the fellows at the pub.

surely, some gent would buy her a drink after all that.
she thought the adventure was well worth the effort

November 8, 2006

2006-12-16T18:49:00.001-08:00

I heard you became a ventriloquist
Sitting in a club
With a dummy on your lap

I imagine that you smoke cigars
(like you did in high school)
with your vaudeville agent
and talk about the big time

Now that you can throw your voice
I bet you use that wooden doll to do all
the talking for you.

I wonder if I went and saw your show
and sat in the front row
and gazed up at you
if that doll on your knee
would wink his eyes at me
open his mouth
be a flirt
and tell me everything I always wanted to hear.

After the show
I'd meet you at the bar
and sit next to you

you'd probably nurse a club soda,
be stone cold sober
and try to avoid my eyes.

You'd say it wasn't you talking
it was the dummy
and I would agree with you
and say I never saw your lips move.

Then I'd admit that I came for you but I stayed for the doll.

that dummy had my heart.

October 14th

2006-11-08T17:10:00.000-08:00

I could learn to cultivate an air of indifference
and place my arm over the divide
draw an imaginary line
and talk to someone I find less interesting
while I push the pasta puttenesca
into my mouth
to stop myself from saying something

I could pretend
that I don't care
about mountains
and revolutions
and the moon
and try to convince myself and others
that the flat earth
mono culture
and muddy rivers
interest me

I could suddenly become hard of hearing
during the presentation
of the Crepe Suzette
blame the crackling fire
to avoid all questions

but I probably won't
and we'd all have a good laugh.

October 6th, 2006

2006-10-06T16:59:00.000-07:00

His hips sway when he walks
in the kind of way
where they move
from side to side
like a woman
although there is nothing
ladylike about him
except perhaps
his hands
which are elegant
fingers long and slender
with nails
a girl would envy
they beg to be painted
a bold color
you want to suggest
fire engine
or bruise
or naughty
but you don't
instead
you keep the thought to yourself
drink your coffee
smile pretty
purse your lips
flutter your eyelashes
you are impish
square
and
darling
just like a Warhol superstar

September 11, 2006

2006-09-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

It's too early in the morning for a phone call
no I do not care P what George Lucas is going to do in the next Star Wars
Wait, what?
Turn on the TV?
What day is it? What month?
Is it April?
Is it an Orson Welles type hoax?
No it's September. This is real.
It's too early in the morning to look at images of a tower burning.
It's too early in the morning to remember quite yet that many friends are flying back from NY to LA today.
Wait.
What time was their flight?
What airline are they on?
You get through (finally) to all your friends in the city and listen, in horror, when your best friend says "My brother is temping in tower two."
and on the TV, even with the bad reception, you can see that tower two is crumbling to the ground.
You don't know what to do so you invite everyone over.
Make tea.
Bake brownies.
You are so glad that you are with friends.
And everyone you know turns out to be all right, every mom, dad, brother, and friend that you know makes it out alive.
And you are so thankful.
And you go to your friends house and you drink hard liquor.
And you eat a big steak.
And you call your ex to tell him that you love him and want him back.
And it doesn't matter that he doesn't care. At least you said it. And you cry yourself to sleep.
And it is so quiet that night.
And for the next three months you wake up in the middle of the night on the floor at your front door because the whole thing brings up that memory from your youth when you lived through your own attack.
You were running away from the bombs in your sleep.
And that scares you.

peace and love to all please

August 20th, 2006

2006-09-11T13:30:00.000-07:00

And you sit there.
You look just like a French Filmmaker
I think it's sexy the way you look at me
And there's something
In the air between us
That says maybe maybe maybe maybe

And I know what
My friends say about me
They would tell you that I fall in love too easily
Then they'd tell you that I definitely was a catch
Then they'd question you to see if you were match enough for me

Cause they worry.
They know who came before
There was Austin, Boston, Toronto and New York
And I've already defended you
So tell me baby what are you going to do?

If you asked me
What would make the man for me
I'd say be very smart
and extremely witty
And you'd have to be very clever with a pen
Enough to make me forget about the other men

Cause my heart is a whore
My heart is a whore

And don't think you're the only one
Look around
Welcome to my boy harem
I told you
I told you
if you want to woo me

My heart is a whore.
My heart is a whore.

August 13th, 2006

2006-08-20T00:14:00.000-07:00

7:30 PM Dinner Reservation

She sat kitty corner to me at the table and we smiled at each other when the creepy guy left.
She did not give me her name.
Did not want to be familiar.
She tells me that she is at the end of her rope
And then shares with me the contents of her purse:
A little blue Kleenex filled with assorted pills for sleeping
I cannot bear to think of this woman
With the proud beautiful face
And the laugh lines that creased near her eyes
When I told her that I wanted to stay at the Lil' Ale'Inn in Rachel, Nevada
Or stand on the four corners
Or take every train line in America
I cannot bear for her to take pills and go to sleep.
This woman who is finishing her roast chicken
And ordering a coffee so we can keep talking
This woman wants to die.
I try to remember what the things to say are
I keep her talking
And share my dark with her
I have never been so afraid
Sitting at dinner with a stranger
Who has pills enough to kill in her purse.
I hope I can stay Pollyanna enough
Show some kind of light
So that she will decide to stick around
We walk back through the cars
Holding onto the seats to steady us
She smiles and shakes my hand.
She cocks her head and declares
That she thinks my list of things to do is funny
And that even though she has no interest in anything
That the idea of it gives her something to think on
I tell her again to find someone to talk to
And wish her luck and walk away

July 26th, 2006

2006-08-13T12:26:00.000-07:00

Two new tires. two. Two for the road.

No tow. Just two.
Two for me and two for you.
Two times I thought of him.
Him at the cafe.
Him at dinner.
Two times.
Two times I wished for a call.
Twice I wondered if the battle was done.

Two.
Two times I thought
did he use a sword?
a musket?
a gun?
I think two times he cried my name.

Two times I laughed at the show.
Two things he said.
I'm working.
I'm here.
He nodded. His head. Twice.

Two times i tried with you.
Big brain
Smart words.
You have a french film maker vibe.
Your weird way of being rude.
Two times I'll email you.
Two.
And then I'm through

July 13, 2006

2006-07-26T23:46:00.000-07:00

I know it is time to get a new car.

He asked me if my Ford Tempo was a British Import.

"Cool," he said. "You have a British car."

“What?” I asked.

Confused.

“You are getting into the passenger side,” he said.

Is.

Your.

Car.

British?”

“No.” I said.

“I.

Am.

A.

Loser.”

"Oh," he said.

And did not kiss me goodnight.

July 1st

2006-07-13T10:46:00.000-07:00

rebel love girl

Your fine mind
Pays attention
To the road
Gloved hands
on the steering wheel
Taking us somewhere
Uncharted
like Outer Space

The wipers are broken
But you still see clearly
Despite the snow that falls
And hides us from the outside world

Softly I should tell you
That I would
Empty
My heart of all the others
If I could have you to myself.

June 15th 2006

2006-06-29T15:30:00.000-07:00

Hush
I know all about it
the miles between hello and goodbye
the reach between I can and I can't
the nerve between I will and I won't

Shh
I whisper everything I ever said
with my small hand in your thick hair
my mouth on your ear
pulling still closer

Don't worry
I won't let go
be lost in the desert
wander for years
I'll walk next to you
turn left
I'm there
your constant oasis

May 25th 2006

2006-06-15T23:23:00.000-07:00

I could not help my hands
as I spoke
they fluttered
and danced in front of me
like birds

I saw as you watched them
trying not to laugh
or perhaps it was
in awe of their independent life

I know
when I talk
They conduct
the music that I hear
and with you
I am always
humming.

I'll try to stop them
they are giving me away

Wait
there they go again
because happily
the coffee and dessert
has yet to arrive

April 16, 2006

2006-05-25T09:10:00.000-07:00

At the stop sign
I turned on the overhead light
Looked at the map
To find directions

The hipster couple in the car next to me
Were laughing and pointing
They weren't being mean
They weren't mocking me
It's just that I looked ridiculous

Furrowed look on my face
Wedding veil on my head
I wondered
Did they think that I was
Late for my own wedding
or
Running away from the altar?

Either way, they gave me the thumbs up
and drove on.

April 6th, 2006

2006-04-16T21:20:00.000-07:00

I dove right in
Right in

The Water looked fine
blue
welcoming

My head hit the bottom
rock bottom
hard
cracked on the shallow end

I have unhappily discovered that
the shallow end
looks deep but
is not

It reminded me that I
cracked my head just as hard on you.

March 19th 2006

2006-04-06T01:11:00.000-07:00

We ate crepes that we bought from a street vendor at the Bois Du Bolougne.
Sun shining
Slight wind

You kept running your hands through your thick hair
and I loved you
Both my hands were broken
So you held my purse

Do you ever think of the nights that I crawled off the single bed and joined you under the cover of the sleeping bag on the floor?
I could never kiss you while you had a girlfriend
I never did

Today the air smells like that afternoon in Paris
and so I am thinking of you.

trapeze sailing
balance and rythm
sure steps
oceans
and the southern cross

March 10th 2006

2006-03-19T12:22:00.000-08:00

He said no one ever changes
nothing
no
A person can never change who
they are

but...

The Knights
shining armor
was now beaten
and he was tired from
dragon battles
so took a well deserved nap
he didn't love that princess enough anyway

The princess in the tower
with no exit
and no prince
cut her hair short short
fell asleep on a pea
uncomfortable
but dreamt of the way
to save herself

The crone in the woods
in her gingerbread house
had a pot already boiling
but felt sorry
let the children go
and ate the thin weak broth
and lost all her magic

February 13th 2006

2006-03-05T09:27:00.000-08:00

Tiny heart
Tiny
Beats like a bird
flutters
finds a nest
makes a home

Big heart
like a bear
browses the woods
looking for honey
hibernates
and dreams
of me

Soft heart
like a cat
purring under the covers
sleeping with you.

January 31st 2006

2006-02-13T21:12:00.000-08:00

My hand declines
in spirit
I set it
down my
down
hides in my pocket
away from your
eyes

My hand longs to
touch
the bony shoulder
feel
the bad sweater
lace
your dainty finger

Flat palm
I wipe it
the sweat that springs
the clammy
chest pounding

Now a fist
clenching
refusing
to reach out to you

December 26th 2005

2006-01-31T11:11:00.000-08:00

It's quiet now
not a sound
but the crackle of the fire

the hiss
and spurts
sometimes sounds like laughter
but not kind that lifts the heart
the one that causes pain

I blush
I have to turn away from the warm
press my cheek against the window
to feel the chill
snow pounds softly on the pane
it's more real
more sober

It's a black night
out there
like a velvet painting
with glow in the dark star patterns
that aren't so bright anymore

But while one heart withers
another one blooms

And me
my heart?
it's sitting in between
the cold of window
and the warm of the room

December 15th 2005

2005-12-26T19:34:00.001-08:00

The poetry is gone
One thoughtless word from you
One phrase you just
dropped into the conversation
carelessly
As though you were throwing your hat onto the bed
getting ready to stay a while
kicking up your feet on the table
and draping your arm on the length of the sofa

you didn't get the memo
that you had been uninvited
that I had never said the words "please stay"
Instead I changed it to "go away"

You just thought you were being clever
with your toothy smiles
and your easy conversation
and faux interest in others

you thought your big show
deserved a pat on the back
you thought it was a friendly gesture
only we are not friends

please don't take your coat off or remove your shoes.

December 2nd 2005

2005-12-15T08:12:00.000-08:00

Winter is the weak month
The sun slung low in the sky
The earth on its wobble
The cold looks good
with its smoke breath

You ignore the freeze
Turn your back on the window
Stare at the wall
not at the locket you hold
in your hand

That gold is warm
That girl is good
That goddess is real

But your go is stalled

Drop
It clangs to the floor
Hands come up to face
Shudder in your shoulders
My, my man
What have you done?

Cue music.