[Michigan Poets] Hurt. Again.

Familiar and alien
the combination twists my insides
my heart and my stomach
my eyes and my soul

I had thought this left in the past
I had thought that it would never return
to be re-lived
This time, the ice shattered
Spilling out liquid fire
in wracking sobs

That is why I’m still bitter
she said
because I still love them all
wounds don’t heal

I’ve been hurt like this before
but never like that.
Almost exactly like this, in situation
but never like that, afterward.
Just the same, in disappointment
but different, in determination.
Word for word, in your self-doubt
Every syllable changed, when I shattered.

Today, my hands gripping the cold
metal spikes
by the churning river,
I doubted the hope within me.
It felt so dim.

Nothing between two people
is perfect
We’re changed now,
because of what you did.
Less starry-eyed perfect
More earthen reality
We doubt our strengths
But not our desire for
each other – forever.

I will not take my name back
from you.
Not this time.
Never forget what I said
amidst running nose
tear-red eyes
sob-wheezing breath
I cannot forgive again.
This is too much for me to live with
a second time around.

Live your love for me
every day and every minute
in every step and every word
every action you take.

Time will prove that you can
or that I was wrong, one more time.

Dig it.

Dig the flow, a closed circuit.
Can you feel the wierd that has hit me?
Yeah, you can feel that. As familiar to us as the panic.
As familiar to us as the doubt.

Dig the mutual return and acknowledgement. SYN/ACK
Can you feel the disappointment, and the drive to keep going?
Yeah, you can feel that. As familiar to us as suspender clips.
As familiar as being without money.

Dig the word that can’t encompass its own meaning.
Can you feel the determination build at the same rate as the fear of failure?
Yeah, you can feel that. As familiar to us as being out of our heads.
As familiar as the crazy and the glint in the eye.

You help me every day.

Beltaine

I cast the circle.
I called the corners.
I called the Lord and Lady.
I summoned my life, and I spoke.

I made a spell once, for money.
It was bad, but I learned a lesson.
I made a spell once, for no money.
It was bad, but I learned a lesson.
I ask now for balance.
I know that life is not all material, and not all spiritual.
Let the heat of my passion melt the bonds of the spells tied to me.
Let balance enter my life.
I have goals, let them come to be.

I blew my life into the wind.
I let the Lord and Lady go.
I let the corners go.
I let the circle go.

[Poem] Sweeping

They’ve just lit the incense
It’ll be at it’s strongest in about three minutes
Dig that scent

God song, bad song, good song

Entrancing strangeness of videos
Feeling, writhing, writing, thin as lies

A businessman is sorting the ashes
as if the butt was a broom
and has already devised a
marketing scheme

Is advertising
normalizing
an attempt to steal it away
into the ranks of the
sold-out?

Isn’t that what we all want?

[Poem] Buried Treasure

I have been entirely entranced
enraptured
taken in
romanced
inspired, even.

The discarded heart of an actual city
lies in the middle of the mitten.
It’s still beating
can you beleive it?!
Grand discovery is mine

What I was running for
what I was seeking out
I already knew it
…but isn’t it always that way…

Spun into the web of home
with a price tag I can’t afford
It must be mine.
I must re-awaken and call
all the strands of chance
my good friends.

No longer an armchair human
I must get up and take
control.

[Poem] Dragon City

The music has survived the apocalypse
For this, we rejoice
In all the ways we know how.

The beat lives on, an
affirmation of our survival
and a praise to humanity.

The voice shatters silence with a perfect tone
survivors claw themselves out
from under rubble.

All stops, silence reigns, under a moving shadow
A roar like trumpeting thunder
Sends them scurrying.

It lands with the crunching
of pavement
and spreads scaled wings.

When they finally dare to look:
A harmless man in black clothes
Leather trench flapping in the wind.

He asks them to sing
Pleads
And they see he’s crying.

[Poem] Faking it.

The elvish features always
snag my eyes
the real ones
you can just tell.

Eventually, image reflects the within
whether we want it to or not
you can just tell.

He’s no businessman.
I remember now.
He’s a lawyer.
A dirty one.

The image reflects the within.
Sounds like a theory that
As time approaches infinity,
the difference between faked and real
approaches zero.
Inverse relationship.

Eventually, everyone will know
It will be common knowledge
worse yet
It will be old news

That you’re faking it.

[Poem] Education

What is the value of distraction?
Add to it the stigma of education
and it is wondrous
or at least worthwhile

We are all struggling to catch up
know more
be the best
now that nothing’s being handed to us.
Fucking silver platter.

So we gather distractions around us
“tools of learning”
or will they be another machine
to play Solitaire on?

How can I push myself?
How do I bring myself to want this goal?

What would happen if I let go of the goal?