20 November 2010

A Train at Night

I like the train best at night.
I hide my face under the curtain
To foil the glare
From scattered reading lights
In an otherwise dark cabin, and
Press my cheek to the cold window.
All the world is in shadow;
The evergreen silhouettes
School the night in darkness.
I spy a planet, orange and unwavering
In the charcoal sky.
On a cloudy night, like this one,
The lighted blotches on the lid
Hint at cities nestled
In some hidden valley.
Wisps of red light fly by
At the crossings,
But there is no sign of life,
Other than the muffled snores
And creaks of a train at night.
I am a quiet voyeur
Sailing slowly by a slumbering wilderness;
Searching for searching eyes
That glimmer yellow in the moonlight.
Then, as the train pulls west around a bend,
I see it, a sparkling snake
Penetrating an abysmal horizon.
I am a wild thing
On a train at night.

11 August 2010

Longing for the Deep

He found her crouching in the ice plants on the cliffs of the sea
Her skin irredescent as the sand as it slips through your fingers
Hair, whipping wildly with the wind as it rushes up the shore
The color of the sun as it drinks the vast blue lifeblood of their small island
She did not shutter as he approaoched, though his presence was formidable.
She simply reached for the water with the longing of a drunk after wine
She pulled herself along the ground, dragging her body into submission
She sent rocks cascading down the interminable precipice before he caught her
She fought at first, but then lost her will quickly
With energy enough only to reach again for the deep
He carried her down the mule path his people had forged long ago
He clasped her white flesh with his dark, thick arms pressing her tightly to him
He inhaled her salty breath as her head fell heavy on his bare, broad shoulders
He wore only the sarong of hsi tribe and the royal band of leather and bone
He reached the warm sand, marching forward toward the breaking waves
The water seemed a fuel to her near lifeless form
Her body squirmed and writhed free of his grasp
Like a fish wriggling loose from the fatal skewer of a spear
Fighting for one last chance at freedom, though in vain
Her arms swung wildly at her side as she fought for each heavy step
Deeper and deeper she strode, with purpose and desperation
He waited on the shore, letting the water hit his knees without notice
He watched her as a terror and a longing gripped his chest
He blinked the sun back in his eyes, raising his hand to his forehead
He searched the water, but she was gone.
He leapt with fury, diving into the shallow water and propelled with earnest
Somehow his life was now bound to hers and he felt his spirit dying
She hovered just below the surface of the water, swaying with the sea's rhythm
She did not respond has he hoisted her above water, throwing her over his shoulder
She began to cough as they reached the shore and as her consciousness returned
She kicked madly, screaming in magnificent torment
She clawed, bit and scratched his tanned back, hollering for her death
As though he were her punisher and not her savior.
Then, in an instant, she was asleep, limp in his arms again.
It was like moving in a dream, gathering wood, food and shelter
This was his home, and yet it seemed so foreign to him.
How he had longed for something other, something spectacular
They all thought him foolish, but he knew it would come, she would come.
She stirred in her weary sleep, like a woman plagued by demons
She calmed as he rubbed coconut oil on her chapped lips and aloe on her pink skin
She was a mystery and yet he knew her so clearly, and himself through her.
She would need him and he would forfeit his life to save her, provide for her, love her.
She was dangerous, but he would give his heart to no one else.
Just as the sweetest oysters come from the perilous underbelly of treacherous rocks
He knew that she housed a great treasure that would whisper new promise
He would tell his people he had seen a sign from the god of the sun.
He was caught in its mirage, perhaps, but he would not faulter from his purpose
He will bestow upon her every treasure in his posession and if she will have him
He will make her his bride.

07 June 2010

young hands

why are your hands so soft?
they're old.
she pulls at her loose skin quizzically,
pondering the blotched olive crests
like toasted meringue
that fall slowly, but never completely.
then, just as slowly, her eyes fall to my hands
pink and iridescent, freckled and slender
angled and extended near hers.
now, those are young hands.
then back to her own,
funny how that happens.
i wait for something eloquent or profound
to say, or even something funny.
but, nothing could be simpler.
her hands are old.
my hands are not,
well, not to her.
funny, i thought.
my hands look so old.

28 February 2010

the entirity of your life

have you ever cocooned so deeply
that you no longer notice the weight of the laptop
or that the room has gone dark all around you?

have you ever postponed going to bathroom
until you are hungry or need to plug in your phone
so as not to waste the effort of the cold walk to the next room?

has pain and discomfort slowed time to the point
that you regret each day you have to bear, each meal you're forced to
feed the body that is perpetually betraying you?

have you ever thought you were depressed only to discover
that your life is simply depressing right now and the only peace
you find is in giving up, surrendering to the dark inevitable?

have you ever surmised the entirity of your life
by looking at the wrappers, bloody gauze, drooping flowers, unfinished books, half empty ginger ale bottles, tea cups loaded with a used yogurt spoon and tissues, pill bottles and the water glass you keep refilling
that comprise your complete lack of activity in the past week?

11 February 2010

hot tea

i always burn my lips on boiling hot tea
it's my ritual
i know it's not steeped properly
i know it's too hot
but it's worth it

the fleeting moment of perfect tea haunts me
it's the wet chase
i need to taste that blissful sip
i sacrifice
but it's worth it

any fool can negligently gulp down cold tea
mindlessly partaking
likewise, any fool could write this poem
and yet, i needed to talk about tea today
today, however, i'm drinking coffee

09 February 2010

This Year's Valentine

by Philip Appleman

They could
pump frenzy into air ducts
and rage into reservoirs,
dynamite dams
and drown cities,
cry fire in theaters
as the victims are burning,
but
I will find my way through blackened streets
and kneel down at your side.

They could
jump the median, head-on,
and obliterate the future,
fit .45's to the hands of kids
and skate them off to school,
flip live butts into tinderbox forests
and hellfire half the heavens,
but
in the rubble of smoking cottages
I will hold you in my arms.

They could
send kidnappers to kindergartens
and pedophiles to playgrounds,
wrap themselves in Old Glory
and gut the Bill of Rights,
pound the door with holy screed
and put an end to reason,
but
I will cut through their curtains of cunning
and find you somewhere in the moonlight.



Whatever they do with their anthrax or chainsaws,
however they strip-search or brainwash or blackmail,
they cannot prevent me from sending you robins,
all of them singing: I'll be there.


02 February 2010

where is health?

if my health is entangled in my soul
and the interminable list of extraordinary ailments
perpetually expands
what does this tell of my soul?

am i enduring the trials of job
not according to my sin
or under the unjust scrutiny of god
but, a reprehensible test of faith?

or is this the work of empathy
that great tug of war betwixt the bleeding hearts
and my own anxious circle of life
which manifests as pestering illness?

could it be that a life of self-neglect
lobotomized from any real body presence
has finally caught up with me
and demands to be heard through painful means?

wherefore is my body riddled with
vertigo, migraines, uterine charlie horses, tendinitis, arthritis,
tmj, inflammation, fatigue, insomnia, palpitations, deviated septum,
thyroid nodules, autoimmune malfunction and pain, so much pain?

do i really want to know the state of my soul?
are these afflictions the abject denial of my soul's true state?
do i have a soul?
where is health?

27 January 2010

if you wonder where i am

if you wonder where i am
ask the postman
he'll tell you my mail has piled up
packed and bursting into my sad copper bin
sitting in a row with all the other apartment boxes
210, 405, 108, that one's mine
"not sure where she's got off to," he'd say
"by the looks of this, she sure ain't here."
stuff, stuff, cram and shut.

if you haven't found me yet
ask the grocer
he runs the little market
next to the taco joint and the dry cleaner
he's seen me walk in with cloth bags
and walk out with wine, carrots and goat cheese.
"oh the red head with the taste for cheap red wine," he'd say,
all sure and unconcerned.
"haven't seen her in weeks."
brrrring, brrrring goes the door and the register.

if i'm still wandering about
ask the holy father
no doubt, he keeps tabs on me
he squelches my silly whims
he unveils my secrets and shouts them to the world
no dignity, nowhere to hide
"not for that sad little girl," he says.
"i'll tell you where she is, but first
love me as i love you."
for there is always a condition.

20 January 2010

what are those faces

stay in the hall, baby
no, don't you come in here
you hear me, baby girl, i mean it
shh, it's ok
just wait for mommy
i'll be right back
oh god, oh please god no
wake up, goddammit, you hear me
wake the fuck up
don't you leave me, not like this
nothing's the matter, baby
oh god
just stay in the hall like a good girl
that's right, daddy is just sleeping
hello, i have an emergency
my husband is unconscious in our living room
there's blood everywhere and, i...i
i think it's coming from his head
please send an ambulance quickly
don't tell me to calm down, i am calm
i'm sitting in a pool of blood, his blood
the fucking love of my life
so shut the hell up and get here
soon, what the hell is soon, please
no, i can't feel a pulse and he's um, i don't think he's breathing
should i start cpr, oh god, what the hell happened
who did this
what the fuck is happening
yes, i'm still here
i have a towel in the bathroom
ok, i'll put pressure on it just wait, jesus
i can't breathe
ok, ok i'm pressing it on his head where it's bleeding
i don't hear the sirens, where the hell are they
oh, don't cry sweetheart
daddy is going to be ok
the policemen and ambulance are coming to take daddy to the hospital
they can make him better there
i know, honey, i want to hug you too, but i have to be with daddy now
just listen to my voice, honey
we're going to be ok
sing for you, ok baby what should we sing
ariel, of course, help me start it sweetheart
look at this stuff isn't it neat
wouldn't you think my collections complete
wouldn't you think i'm the girl
the girl who has, oh god
it's the sirens, do you hear the sirens baby
oh thank god, oh please god hurry
he has a head wound
there's blood everywhere
i don't know how long, at least 10 minutes
is he going to be ok
come here baby
shhh, just rest your head
i know you're tired, just sleep on mommy
i'm going with you in the ambulance
please put my daughter up front with you
no there's no one, i need her with me
i'm not going anywhere baby, you're staying with me no matter what
sirens
beeps
traffic
creaks
mumbles
the dull piercing drone of a flatline
screaming
do something
cops at the er
my baby girl in my arms
my love in a mess of tubes and blood covered with fumbling emts
don't try to handle me
you don't get to ask me a damn thing until i know my husband is alright
what do you mean i can't go with him
don't ma'am me, that is my heart and soul you are taking with you
they're taking daddy to a special room where the doctors can make him better
i don't know, baby, i don't know
pacing
crying
holding
pleading
the coffee they gave me goes cold, untouched
her head is heavy in my lap, asleep
three of them come out
what are those faces, what do their faces mean
i'm sorry, mrs...
white
black
red
a nurse takes my baby
my knees give way with a snap
the grey sterile carpet tastes like snot, tears and detergent
i need to see him
now, take me to see him
i don't care
i walk into my own death
i've orphaned my daughter
how can i tell her, we were one flesh
grafted into one vine
what will be left of me for her
she will never know me as a living creature
the night is over