June 20, 2002

January 20th, 2009 by Karen

This was a prolific evening of writing…these have no titles and I have left them in order.
_____________________________________________________________

New lines unfold daily
a crease here
a wrinkle there
a bruise, a scar
three gray hairs

I’ve noticed
have you?

There’s a little more
to go around these days
less sanity,
more hips.

Why does the mirror lie?
Doesn’t it know I’m still a lithe nineteen?
Have you noticed?
I have.

Now you slumber
snoring peacefully
resting from a hard day’s work
It’s only 9 pm
I think you’ve noticed.

I kiss your cheek,
you mumble incoherently.
I offer,
you shift, then snort.
I whisper,
you turn and face the wall.

You noticed.
I know.

_____________________________________________________________

My head pounds
cars thrum in the darkness
the aging pipes creak in the house
we try to make a home
Amont the clutter and kitch,
we make our attempt
to put things in their place,
but not everything has a place
so they cohabitate
my socks live on top of the dresser
instead of a drawer
your books migrate
changing resting places daily
the toys, the laundry, the filing
the junk we think we need to keep.
All moves constantly
until company comes.
Then everything congregates in closets
where they remain
and the cycle begins anew.

_____________________________________________________________

Do you know
about my headache?
about my worry?
my fears?
that I lie awake nightly
listening to you sleep
wishing, hoping beyond hope
that you would open your eyes
and speak with me?

Something more than perfunctory.
Ask me how my day was
if you can rub my back
or my feet
or kiss my temples
the way you used to;
make my heart soar.

Happiness isn’t supposed
to be fleeting or hard to obtain
it’s simply a thank you for the laundry
or a let me get that for you.

We share so much, yet I’m so alone
it seems like I must be doing
something wrong.
Otherwise, you’d notice
I’ve got the light on
and I’m writing poetry.

_____________________________________________________________

There was a time
in a galaxy far far away
in the not so distant past
where an emotional wreck
met a hopeless romantic.

With much tenderness and care
the courted…and loved.
Slowly a year has turned to ten and
the romantic became distant and aloof
and the wreck, the hopless romantic.

Now she plants flowers, only to watch them die
as the invisible ones do in the vase on the table
and blows kisses into the dark
to lie awake dreaming what ifs.

But in reality, what ifs never exist
and love is but a fleeting butterfly
replaced by heartburn and creaking knees.

So the romantic returns to the wreck
and pretends not to care that she cares
and each day’s dawn brings sorrow and heartbreak anew.

_____________________________________________________________

I’ve thought of you
often lately my friend
wondering how you fare
so very far from home
somewhere among the stars.

I hope you have good company
and that you have found what you are missing.

I have found what I was seeking
and lo, it slipped through my fingers like so many teardrops.

Come home,
I beg you.
Please
I am lonely without you
please.

I don’t know of anything else I have to say,
so I’ll kiss you goodnight and extinguish the light.

_____________________________________________________________

With my little blue pen
facing my blue wall
on a blue line
lying on a blue bed
in a very blue world
I try
no
attempt
to transfer my blues
to paper and out of my heart.

A task proving to be impossible.

_____________________________________________________________

You love me
I know, I do not doubt
I simply look into your eyes and know.

Lately though, your eyes are shut in sleep
and your glances are meaningless.

You provide for us and help out,
but there is something more I am am desperate for.

I was taught to do unto others, so I do unto you.
I do your laundry, and grocery shop, and garden and bank
and I tell you I love you
perhaps too much and too often

It has been so long,
I can’t remember when your lips did not reciprocate, but initiated.

I need to know
I am sad
I am unhappy
I am lonely
I need you
I am desperate.

_____________________________________________________________

I am contemplating
writing my next poem
on your shoulder

but maybe not

If you woke you may
not appreciate your status as a literary work
and the ink might come off
on the sheet, but not in the shower.

Perhaps, one day you will decorate
my body with love poetry
and verses of romance.

Until then,
the pen is on my dresser.

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Lonely - March 17, 1997

January 20th, 2009 by Karen

There is a man walking by the riverside
staring at the water’s edge
watching it flow
always away
into the nothingness that is the sea.

Ponderously it swirls among the reeds
unwilling to meet its destiny
its death.

He sighs forlornly and turns up the well worn path
where the grass grows unchecked
and the wildflowers mix
with the weeds
nodding in the quiet breeze.

Stooping, he picks a single daffodil
her favorite always
yellow petals and the orange cup
brightly smiling on the window sill
above the sink.

Wearily, his pace slows until he stops
the name escapes his lips
whispered upon the wind
and it swirls away
into the mists of the cemetary.

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March 13, 1997

January 20th, 2009 by Karen

I can’t deny my feelings for you
I want you back
but I want you to be happy
and I know you aren’t with me.
I want to hold you tightly
but that you can’t allow.
I need to be needed by you
but you need me to leave.
I don’t know if you realize the battle I am in
as friend as lover as whatever you want me to be today
I can’t let go of my feelings for you
like it seems you have done for me
I refuse to become like the others, obsessed
with having you near
but my hear is telling me otherwise
I am so full of anger
and sadness
and love
for you… but…
I know that doesn’t matter now.

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Take Me Home

January 20th, 2009 by Karen

The dying sun
paints a blanket of light
slipping off the cooling hills.

The stars flicker
like brightly lighted candles,
brilliant diamonds set in black velvet night.

The church steeple points straight to heaven,
the swirling mist dances with the breath of God.

The perfection of the valley,
the town nestled in nature’s hands
a blemish on the immaculate earth.

This is where I belong.

Summer sun and winter moon,
the starry night drowning in silence,
the burning tree in heaven’s coolness.

The eyes that are not there
but still know the darkness of my soul.
His eyes.

Depth beyond canvas.
The blackness of my soul, eternal peace.
I am home.

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Florence at Night

January 20th, 2009 by Karen

Last night
looking at the stars
I thought I heard your laugh
so carefree and warm
but you’ve been gone for so long…
walking on the beach with you
on a night like this
so long ago
laughing, giggling like children
splashing each other at three in the morning
until we were shivering so badly
we had to get warm somehow

The fire was so warm, I still don’t know
where you found enough wood
I could have stayed there forever
sharing the sunrise

there never was a prettier sunrise

but somehow amid hasty goodbyes and promises
I was forgotten…

My mind pushes the tender memories away
like so many times before
only to be remembered later while I watch
another starry night
sitting beside our fire waiting for you
to step back into the light.

1994

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Sometimes

January 20th, 2009 by Karen

Sometimes
when I sit here and think of you
I can only smile
Sometimes
its all I can do to keep
from crying
Such a mix of emotions
running through my mind

I sit here in the sunlight
and the rain
the morning and the night
Everything calls forth memories
of you and me
Even in the night I can’t escape
your encompassing love

I sit here
thinking of you and
sometimes
when my eyes are closed
I can feel your arms encircle
my waist and I hear you whisper
I love you.

1995

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