

You are an artist
 and I am a writer
and so I knew
that breaking
commandments
would be a given.
You and I are better
 as a story and on skin. 
Your fits are brutal
with words like fists
and mine are choreographed
complete with maudlin tears
melted canvases 
broken beer bottles
my collection of ceramic owls
and my words in a basket
and a loud and clear, Fuck You.
We are children 
pretending to be 
 grown ups by
paying the bills
looking both ways
tying our shoes laces
wearing seat belts and
whispering at the library.
But truly
we just want to strip down
and let the waves
 the wind
the moon
and whatever higher power
has a hold of us 
 to set us free. 
My heart is paper.
When you tare it out
I fold it into Yoda 
or a Lotus Flower,
and I place it gently
into your hands.
You are always impressed
and so you take me back. 
We are mostly about the exits
and the entrances aren't we?
Always happy to see each other
after some time apart.
And the shelf where I 
keep my owls is always empty.

It was the year of good hygiene 
and fatal diseases. 
  
It was the year of sketching fruit
 and cutting the sleeves off of her blouses.
It was the year of coloring books
and reading Tolstoy.
It was the year of free love
and monogamy.
It was the year of innocence
pig tails, pink, and plush.
It was the year of no religion
and finding God.
It was the year of driving without a seat belt
and saying fuck rules, fuck shrinks, and fuck you.
It was the year of painting 
every room "Buttercup Yellow." 
It was the year of nightmares 
and eating in bed. 
It was the year of hating mothers 
 and loving fathers. 
It was the year of being a republican
and falling in love with democrats 
 
It was the year of bandaged wrists 
and throwing away knives.
It was the year of loving her feet
and hating her hands.
It was the year of avoiding cats
and collecting puppies.
It was the year of seeking truth
and sewing the sleeves back onto her blouses.
It was another year of not knowing
who she is and pretending that she does.
In this small town
 the mayor's niece
is a stripper and
the good old 
Irish boys own the bars
and there is 
a long standing factory
that makes  
peanut butter and ketchup
my two favorite condiments.
This village
is so tucked away
that it seems we are
safe from 
nuclear, chemical
and holy annihilation. 
There is
a comfort and
a loneliness 
in that thought.
When you fall 
in love here
you have 
 park benches 
and fountains
you have
 Victorian porches
and rambling creeks.
Falling in love here
can be idyllic. 
When your heart 
is broken here
 in Wyeth country
 and when the bars
on every corner
become your churches
it is nothing more 
than poetic misery.
The nagging cough
The sludge
 The pale 
The stale
The gossip
The seasons 
give false hope
hope of change.
It is the seasons
that keep me here.
The first snow 
The melt
and than the green 
the beautiful green 
The seasons
 is why I stay.
such stark differences
are something like a dream
The summers
Oh the summers
The tender green
The hydrangea 
The sudden skin
The barbecue
The nectar
The buzz
The hum
The breeze
the breeze
I'll leave after Christmas
After the New Year
It's spring time
and I think I'm falling in love.
Holly had one of her poems published in a South Florida talent magazine titled WeMerge. You can find more of Holly's poetry at: her MySpace page.
Comments (closed)
jw
2009-12-19 15:44:12
see what i can do while snowed in??find your words in another place in the world doing us all well.






















