Thursday, June 28, 2007

contemplating it

i think i'll never
unravel your complexities
the way i think i've got you
all pinned down
and you take that moment
to shock me.
your text: "be ready
for me to come home."
you never waited for the bed.
who is this animal
underneath your usual
musical composition?
why don't you let it out
a little more?
i think of your brain
like a computer - a mass of wires
i'm scared to touch
for fear of malfunction
and there's so much complication
a million ways for things
to go wrong,
none of which
i have the skill
to fix,
the technical know-how
to troubleshoot.
i'm standing outside your locked door
knocking, not afraid
of hurting you,
i am afraid of really, truly
feeling all this
when it is over,
and i don't
want to be there
when i fall.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

the hanon book

i remember the repetition
the endless up-and-down
the plunked-out plodding scales
i hated them so
but what
i would not give now
to have that certainty
of fingers on keys
hands to rhythm to
keep the music coming.
the things we do not understand
always come back
to haunt us
with my ghost
of a skill,
and uncertain, shaking fingers
pressed to keys no longer familiar.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

forever and crap

you crashed into me, gently
but with force enough to twist
my path,
head me in a different direction.
it wasn't intentional;
you wouldn't dream of interrupting,
just insinuating, gently
a hand with an open palm,
an open interpretation,
an A or B or C choose one,
choose all of the above,
choose anything
but not choosing.
now i'm staring back the way i came,
the path paved with
my shame and rage, my tears
and impotent innocence all
combining into fear and disgust,
all the reasons i'd tried a new path
but here i am, deja vu
give it a second whirl.
until the fear is gone, disgust
open your eyes
really see it, stare
until you know what you were
supposed to be looking for.
then, try
your parallel road. give anything
a try,
but be prepared with the knowledge,
of who you are.
of where you are going.

Sunday, June 3, 2007


the ferocity with which i grasp
at you terrifies me,
as it must you.
i love you
i'm not IN love with you.
how much of this statement
is true, how much
a lie?
which one of us was lying,
is lying now?
sometimes as we sleep
i try to fit into you
as though i have always
been a part
of your body