pearls

For Keeps

Posted in sapphics by maggie on 2007/02/08

Wordless, lurking deep in your bedroom's shadows,
keeping every move under strict surveillance
fixed on opportunities, targets, tactics -
              passion's devices.

Played for keeps, this sport is no mere diversion
matching kiss for kiss like your bed's my chessboard,
sacrifices, gambits and traps conceiving
              mating positions.

Caught by your own strategies, captured victim!!
Want a rematch?  I'll let you make the first move.
Stakes?  The usual - loser submits to winner,
              winner takes loser.

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Say No More

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2009/04/17

It's like they say.  It's always like they say
the girl must try to see.  Tomorrow.  Make
her work.  Some coffee black, familiar clothes,
some sunshine after dawn's brief rain, a break
in her routine discord, a part to play.

Your local bus, it's on its scheduled run
commuting dismal dreamers into gold,
like money in the bank: it comes, it goes.
She goes along.  She does as she is told,
there being that to tell as not's been done.

You smile.  You know the questions not to ask,
your children running laughing off to school
in casual mask.  Each minute you compose
will fold back on itself, her morning jewel.

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Eighth One

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/01/17
 

Clipper smoke,
Deep breath facefirst to hard wind,
I need no confession to know how bad I've sinned.
I feel just like a snowflake adrift
– Nothing else I can give.

Fast burn,
Frozen rock before it goes ash,
For you I've saved the the real ones in my pocket cache.
You'll have to pardon me my thrift
– Nothing else I can give.

Shelter, that's something I'm not after
So I can keep this thing lit.
And if I don't, what would it matter?
Nothing to us, wouldn't it?

Dead drag,
Back home from where I came,
Where all the sleet and hail lines up to take aim.
I can't say how and won't say if
– Nothing else I can give.

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Seventh One

Posted in villanelle by maggie on 2009/01/16
Seventh One

One never knows which words will be your own –
Those voices once as much like yours as mine
Or like those lives which don't work out, get thrown.

My name's become to you a noise unknown,
Invention of an imbecile's design –
One never knows which words will be your own.

One either breaks the skin or cuts the bone –
The songs we once composed may still combine
Or like those lives which don't work out, get thrown.

Obscure motifs, a crushed rosetta stone,
Quaint angles tricked from cigarette and wine –
One never knows which words will be your own.

The garden we once slept in's overgrown.
Should we again our beds have intertwine
Or like those lives which don't work out, get thrown?

Screw this shit! I can't do it alone –
Without your lips, my whispers misalign.
One never knows which words will be your own
Or like those lives which don't work out, get thrown.

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Sixth One

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2009/01/16

So let's exchange some quatrains over gin,
maybe even steal ourselves a kiss.
Don't ask me what condition my head's in.
It's not my same old. Then again, what is?

My backgrounds paint me colder than I am.
With all these layers, I must be warm inside.
So yeah, I act like I don't give a damn
when you and I both know that ghost's done died.

I've never been the best of company
but though I'm rarely nice, I'll not be cruel
or when I am, the wrong is meant for me.

But don't ask why I left or where I went –
Let's just pretend I've been away at school
or suffered from some fatal accident.

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Not Good At This

Posted in terzanelle by maggie on 2009/07/15
Not Good At This

Alright, my room is empty, set to go,
no more than I can carry, keep the rest,
this might not mean goodbye, I'll let you know.

I posted what I could, you've seen the best,
but I've got some of yours to take along,
no more than I can carry, keep the rest.

Let's not do kisses, I'd just get it wrong,
I never had the time to do them well,
but I've got some of yours to take along.

I've made arrangements for my clientele
except for one I'm wishing I could keep,
I never had the time to do them well.

My promises are thin, my talk is cheap,
my dreams are headed somewhere out the door,
except for one I'm wishing I could keep.

It wasn't you.  It's me.  I can't do more.
Alright, my room is empty, set to go,
my dreams are headed somewhere out the door,
this might not mean goodbye, I'll let you know.

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will be rewound

Posted in villanelle by maggie on 2009/08/03
will be rewound

every word i've used will be rewound
steeped long in magic's sciences and arts
redoubled front and back, christened and crowned
adverbed and adjectived, reverbed, renouned
then decomposed in unassembled parts

every word i've used will be rewound
upside down, tongue-twisted all around
(it'd come out inside out if i'd the smarts)
redoubled front and back, christened and crowned

like memories that echo then resound
the way i see stops short on all its starts

every word i've used will be rewound
all tied up in knots then gagged and bound
(it's backwards, if you're reading from its charts)
redoubled front and back, christened and crowned

unwanted, unresolved, unheard, unfound
as though a hall of mirrors for our hearts
every word i've used will be rewound
redoubled front and back, christened and crowned

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phantom pantoums

Posted in pantoum by maggie on 2009/08/03
phantom pantoums

i've seen the end, it's come time to resign —
every breath past here has its own word
(i knew them all, i loved them all like mine
and yours) - i've left you every sound i've heard.

every breath past here has its own word,
while each word speaks an endless silence (his
and yours) - i've left you every sound i've heard
to dedicate what can't be to what is.

while each word speaks an endless silence, his
are promises of worlds that never were.
to dedicate what can't be to what is,
you sacrificed to him and i to her.

are promises of worlds that never were
enough to recreate what we've destroyed?
you sacrificed to him and i to her -
we give the most to what's our greatest void.

enough! to recreate what we've destroyed -
that's why we sing the song, it's what
we give the most to. what's our greatest void?
the word we left unsaid, the door left shut.

that's why we sing. the song - it's what
each fragile moment aches to be there for:
the word we left unsaid, the door left shut,
our secret lives, the dreams that spoke of more.

         each fragile moment aches to be there, for
         i've seen the end. it's come time to resign
         our secret lives, the dreams that spoke of more.
         (i knew them all, i loved them all like mine)

each fragile moment aches to be there for
our freedom, our control, that light ahead,
our secret lives, the dreams that spoke of more
(though nothing more about us need be said).

our freedom, our control, that light ahead -
how is it home has always felt so near?
though nothing more about us need be said,
my friends will come around to itch your ear.

         how is it home has always felt so near?
         i've seen the end. it's come time to resign.
         (my friends will come around to itch your ear.
         i knew them all, i loved them all like mine)

how is it home has always felt so near?
there was a time i used to give a damn.
my friends will come around to itch your ear -
don't tell them where or what or how i am.

there was a time i used to give a damn
for those who feigned the same for what they gave.
don't tell them where or what or how i am -
there's nothing in my soul worth shit to save.

         for those who feigned the same for what they gave -
         i knew them all, i loved them all like mine.
         there's nothing in my soul worth shit to save.
         i've seen the end. it's come time to resign.

for those who feigned the same, for what they gave,
i can't make up the difference nor the change.
there's nothing in my soul worth shit to save,
i've nothing in my head one might call strange.

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pearls

Posted in pearls by maggie on 2009/08/11

pearls will fall like all but brighter stars done in by yawning moonlight
pearls will chatter like chickadees calling dawn stray dogs barking back
pearls will find smudged horizons to splatter with lightning struck twice vacant
i scratch out circles at each arm i call them pearls them all pearls

fencing freedom for                       work
folding vision up for                  bed
taking only one                    chance
dont broadcast                 it it wont sell what will help
dont point at              it it wont forget soon enough
dont laugh at it                it laughs back sneering

be good to               who will be mothers
be nice to who            will give their own
be true to who will        leave open
there will be more       to meet
there will not         look down
there will        make pearls

i will        have to terminate it
i       have to make it stop
close

what      went with red
sleep    again eat again be still again
dont make    fun of have some
thiis will   not be it
doesnt hurt not  where
not near not in any of the ways

exterminate it
make it go
away

there is a stone inside me
it call it a per call it a pearl
a black hard stone
a growth
it feeds on me
it keeps me up
it moves me far away
dont look at it not straight on
it will last when i cant
it will cry when i wont

wrong goess wrong
not some another way of seeing
not for an alternative take
not as worth turning into opinion
make it my mistake my wrong my sin
hten and it does my best truth and be wrong

sara watches my try to swallow
she stays awake to see that i dont
she has someone too looking in on me at random
i make her to tell me when it has turned its into too much
 
pearls

i need to terminate it make it quit
its claim on me its merciless control
constricting feeble breath through knotted howl
at what gets made with me as stupid bait
it has to end itself to pull its weight
its penalty its purpose rank and foul
out from the inside gnawed and swallowed whole
across cold skin my curse in bloodline writ
to sacrifice the one reward i'd prized
ironic how love plays out so such twist
this part of me most me unrealized
not ever taken out not ever kissed
not ever noticed never recognized
then i at liberty to not be missed

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come as a friend

Posted in villanelle by maggie on 2009/09/02
come as a friend

when i look for an end
when my free will is lost
death, come as a friend

let peace on me descend
let pain and fear be tossed
when i look for an end

when no day's left to spend
when goodbye's worth its cost
death, come as a friend

let strength my sleep attend
let love be my riposte
when i look for an end

when prayers in blood are penned
when names are traced in frost
death, come as a friend

death, so gently bend
the words on which we've crossed
when i look for an end
death, come as a friend

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borderline calling

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/09/03
borderline calling

i've not yet found my vision's pledge
     and when i do i'll soon forget,
like sitting at the water's edge
     away from where the sun will set.

as blank as sky stripped clean of gulls
     who've left to watch the day slip out,
the dark's crest swallows vessel's hulls
     like emptiness devoured by doubt.

a full moon from the border bleeds
     out into my damp unkempt bed;
it pulls my longing which recedes
     in floods from my confessions bled,

then bathes me in its holy light
     while i sleep naked on the beach
where wave on wave my sins recite
     as far out as the tide will reach —

as black as sand, a faceless squint
     at moon-swept wind beneath the sea,
then as i'm drowning, just a hint
     toward what the coming light might be.

recycled waters wake my skin;
     into a new red sun i melt
deserted in this void i'm in
     where nothing is the way it felt.

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Go Back

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/09/13
Go Back

A bastard hustler turned my head
when all he wanted was my bed,
which though a steal to many men
had not been stolen until then.

When I'd gone farther than I dared,
he proved me worse than unprepared,
except when I went farther still
I proved myself prepared to kill.

He used to take me at my best
unguarded, unperturbed, undressed,
until he had me all his own
then left me wasted, lost, alone.

I wish to god it didn't hurt,
like hell I know he's made me dirt.
It can't go back to how it was
and he won't be here when it does.

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memo to self

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/09/08
memo to self

girl, get your bony ass up off the couch
     quit your damn moping
what happened's no reason for playing the slouch
     giving up ain't coping
          so what if life and living it suck?
          don't act like you're that easily dead

whether come or stay, whether win or lose
     make it be chosen
so what if you won't get what you choose?
     still you're not some frozen
          piece of shit that don't give a fuck
          with your losing all up in your head

Recycled Piece

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/09/12
Recycled Piece

Eventually every poem does it, loses its author and reader,
and settles into a page that only a dry wind disturbs,
its mouth polluted with modernized versions of its images,
forced to seek out its pleasures in the arms of new words.

Accompanied by my shadow's dear friend I go there to refresh
like two gray women in a thrift store's illumined dust,
wondering aloud at the lives each item once had filled
whether in our holding them their meanings might be lost.

We bargain with the proprietor the price for used time,
walk home giggling fresh air over our peculiar find,
with the wind in our hair like the first owner's ghost -
this wasn't ever hers, nor will I hope to make it mine.

Who was she and what moment did this touch in her day?
Did she feel anything in it that our routine might repeat?
Her gusts circle and dodge as if caught in our breath,
the distant echo of simple ritual in each line we read

then will leave again unread, untreasured, forgotten, unused
down the road beyond the home of our own heart's love
where others overlook it in their own searches for what
will sound more familiar to them than this is and ever was.

While already back in the thrift store's dimming shadows,
like a discarded snapshot of an unknown aunt's chance pose
another odd item will be rescued from the storage shelves
to occupy our Saturday afternoon indulgence's empty place.

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Casual Villanelle

Posted in villanelle by maggie on 2009/09/14
Casual Villanelle

   Bring on the juice! Seduce me my head to slip
   beneath calm waves of lukewarm booze
   and dip down free to choose,
   content to lose
   my grip.

Fools gold is for fools, passes are passé,
the more a love's real the more it's its sham,
my more commonly felt's the most casually cliché -
if I cared you'd give too damned a damn.

   Don't cut me loose! Our noose I would not gyp
   its chance my head to lighter views
   equip, so not refuse
   my hungry muse
   her lip.

Your straight, my flush, our pair -
See any risk you want to see strip?

Undress all you can, do a full exposé,
lay me down undone as a hard body slam.
It won't take much, say the right word and I may
play dropdead drunk on the merest flat dram.

   Bring on the juice! Seduce me my head to slip
   beneath calm waves of lukewarm booze
   and dip down free to choose,
   content to lose
   my grip.

Choke up my throat with your curliest hair,
tease my tongue with your fingertip.

You be the master, I'll play the protégé -
I want your most thorough exam.
What, you're always left wanting more? Touché!
as seethrough as a poem's wham bam!

   Don't cut me loose! Our noose I would not gyp
   its chance my head to lighter views
   equip, so not refuse
   my hungry muse
   her lip.

Make all of me all the more bare -
Bite into me, stinging silk whip!

What more'd you expect of so easy a lay?
How far up me'd you think you yourself might ram?
and me using you for what you put out per se,
sucking inspiration from each oozing gram.

   Bring on the juice! Seduce me my head to slip
   beneath calm waves of lukewarm booze
   and dip down free to choose,
   content to lose
   my grip.

Until I'm left screaming out nothing but air
that makes inbetween gasps skip.

And I come back to crave after it night come day,
grab as much of you as in me I cram,
swallow every drop of your fertile spray
from floods through which both of us swam.

   Don't cut me loose! Our noose I would not gyp
   its chance my head to lighter views
   equip, so not refuse
   my hungry muse
   her lip.

The next time I check I want to still feel you there,
a bright scratch on my breast, a deep bruise on my hip.

So grab a quick peek and sneak up my negligee,
say your, "You do it like no one else, ma'am."
I don't mind that I'm only tomorrow's throwaway -
let nothing be said, that nothing's what I am.

   Bring on the juice! Seduce me my head to slip
   beneath calm waves of lukewarm booze
   and dip down free to choose,
   content to lose
   my grip.

   Don't cut me loose! Our noose I would not gyp
   its chance my head to lighter views
   equip, so not refuse
   my hungry muse
   her lip.

Out Behind the Watershed

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/09/28
Out Behind the Watershed

Strangely anti-matter is exactly the same as matter
except that it doesn't, not unless the two interact
after already having the first two strikes against
with no compromise paving the way for convergence
and to tell apart the different versions of myself
taken seriously forces contact of parallel energies
where the end of one word is the beginning of this
which already will have been said and said again
trapped in a bizarre tunnel staring death down cold
to present us with an acceptable alternative path
through official openings to the same recollection.

But at least Rae would know the difference between
ordinary wear and tear and this, this social exercise
in combining what has been tried before with itself
where the fit would do most damage, deep down where
one life ends there another was readying its entry
without expectation, without a chance, without time.

Rae leans back to swing her ankles up on the table
slipping into some perceived situation easier than
she has avoided finding more than an unbuttoned shirt
fumbling through another attempt to show she belongs
yet with enough hidden to think to keep me shut out
although it's more than she can't work it out that
Gwen still studies her looking for a landing strip
after near half a year of adult comic book scenes
but would wake from the slow afternoon's skin games
and find herself something fresh and clean to put on
to return like autumn's color to her more familiar
mission of getting me to get over it, which for her
would mean that Rae would know the difference.

Far to the other side out behind the watershed
where lines take generations to shift perceptions
one teardrop to the right making all the difference
and scratching out a poem fragment to scar the edge
so I will remember where I left it, I surprise Rae
puzzling over notes Gwen would write to cheer me up
so she rolls out a peep show how she's in her rights
and I shrug at her act while lighting a cigarette
then explain to her how a poet and reader divide
what their words and images and messages will mean
and these go off in different directions and do
different tasks and fill different rivers and empty
into different seas and fall to different depths
and return to different surfaces in different ages
to rise to different clouds that might merge again
in some bent jet stream only after losing place
of where it ought not have been simple coincidence
for mother and baby to divide what their pain
and breath and love would mean and have those go
out in directions that will separate us like this.

Contemptuously Rae pulls her hand out of her jeans
to lick her finger as though it fenced the border
between what I will never do well to understand
in what Gwen sees as nothing past simply obvious.

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Routine Nightly Routine

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/10/03
Routine Nightly Routine

The house breathes deeply, usual for the hour
when to their fancies angels dreams devote
except where one gets shoved into the shower,
a kitchen knife waved crudely near her throat

so she'll behave, while all the others sleep
like floating in some forest's hidden pond.
A washcloth's stuffed into her mouth to keep
her quiet while she's pressured to respond.

Like hide and seek her cousins chase their rest
into each laughing game their thoughts can find
to use for play.  Her own must get undressed
for feeling up then taken from behind.

One darling stirs half-waking as though roused
then slips back to dark shadows seen within
the secrets guilt from innocence has housed.
The bruise inside is all that marks a sin.

The darkness settles back into a snore
like tiny wings escaped in naïve flight
far distances. What she's been brought here for
will get itself brought back tomorrow night.

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Almost Pretend

Posted in curtal sonnet by maggie on 2009/10/25
Almost Pretend

It was, almost, a smile I might have kissed,
as simply naked and open as his first,
a perfect morning past its evening's end

like shadows held tight by his tiny fist
straight through the hearts of demigods I cursed
into a dream I want: I want my friend.

The changes to that dream will all be his
as though my waking hour'd assumed my worst
to birth these words I'll never comprehend
but live for just that one his presence must
                             almost pretend.

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Just Once

Posted in pantoum by maggie on 2009/10/27
Just Once

Just once I'd like to be the one on top
where I'm controlling pressure, push and pace
and how long we'll go on before we stop,
without a fear that I might lose my place —

where I'm controlling pressure, push and pace
for both of us, to bring us there in synch
without a fear that I might lose my place
if I don't care what anyone might think.

For both of us, to bring us there in synch,
I'd give attention to your each response.
If I don't care what anyone might think,
then we could take this where our love most wants.

I'd give attention to your each response,
if only I knew we were good to go.
Then we could take this where our love most wants,
or if not, I'll return back down below.

If only I knew we were good to go
and how long we'll go on before we stop!
(Or if not, I'll return back down below...
Just once I'd like to be the one on top.)

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As Posed

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2009/11/02
As Posed

His Back:       Gwen told you what you might expect?
My Silhouette:  She knows me well enough
                to tell I'm not put off by twisted stuff.
His Stance:     Leave covered what you least protect.

My Body:        What's indebted, come collect.
His Camera:     Trade my blackmail for your bluff
                to pose our meanest hungers in the buff.
My Razor:       This one's yours in that respect.

Offstage, each photograph hangs cold and wet
like dirty laundry heavy on steel clips,
each image worth the shadows given back.

In audience, his lady's cigarette
paints stripes across her thighs up to her hips
in burlesque poetry of white on black.

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journal

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2010/02/01
journal

- i -

almost past denver goes how far i went
then one more ride a long night's drive beyond
before forgetting what i'd called intent
my winds turned east i can't help but respond
besides there wasn't yet time to forget
   my latest debt

i'd thought to make it to a western shore
look up a name and street i'd memorized
to stake me what i'd lost manhattan for
before the words i'd written got revised
or in some cases need to be erased
   as aimless waste

for travel cash i sold a piece of prose
for rides i mainly took whatever came
ahead behind you know the way that goes
you close your eyes to keep them on your aim
as long as i kept moving i did fine
   outside the line

that history it's said i scrambled from
the work the rep the man even the child
they're only distant memories they've become
which ain't the model after which i'm styled
the words we said the breaths we said them on
   are good as gone

that first step's always easy wasn't long
before i made it halfway down the road
i wasn't right that didn't make me wrong
it only takes a second to reload
some never learn to learn from a mistake
   that's all i make

yeah then i ran into a little snow
and didn't have the shoes for pushing through
that wind chewed up my bones that much i know
it felt a lot like sleeping close by you
as in how well it did to make me stay
   through night to day

which works a whole lot better with a place
where one can point to where one has a bed
i always had my smile on just in case
and always wore a coat easy to shed
yet got to spending nights nothing to hold
   that wasn't cold

how often and how near i reached for death
to fall asleep beneath a windblown drift
i now know i'll save this for my last breath
"you won't get found till spring, you lucky stiff"
some wishes have to wait to be the last
   the rest go fast

the ride that finally took me one mile high
that woman was an angel straight from hell
you can't choose which directions might apply
when satan checks you in her own motel
at least for once i found me things to eat
   within her heat

it wasn't where i'd planned to turn around
for heading back toward chelsea's cozy rooms
what i meant rarely matters so i've found
i work off scraps from what my world presumes
ask anyone who knew enough to know
   i'm just as though

so downtown denver felt about as far
like standing at the ocean's very edge
my ride asked "do you realize where you are?"
i told her of the cut the blood the pledge
and mentioned with my eyes what it's about
   and then got out
 

- ii -

the guy i hooked up with my first night west
wasn't expected back in before past three
and was good just enough to not need to be best
so we had us some time and he spent it on me
but wanted kept out of my art and my song
   so's not here long
 

- iii -

so my old roomie sold her some writing too
say yeah to her for me if i first don't
it's rare to get paid right for what we do
more than likely it's for what we can't or won't
i should've been present to show her out loud
   she did herself proud

and that pledge we wrote down after i'd left
her on the concepts and me on the drums
i'm hearing her publisher found it quite deft
yeah that's what a serious promise becomes
she'll so knowingly smile when she hears that one said
   over what's ahead

some words must be written to get it said
some words must get said to be believed
some words we believe go straight to the head
then stay up there even after they've been retrieved
the words she came up with set heads on fire
   of raw desire

she'd argued hard for joining me out on the road
my thelma feeding off her best louise
then here her world's grown out while mine's only snowed
as hers gave out heat i've been feeling mine freeze
yeah that would work magic her fire with my ice
   roulette with dice

she won't need me saying i wrote shit for her
like a map i might draw her to keep it all straight
the way we will love knows the lovers we were
and won't memorize the lines rhyming with hate
then still be around when i need me a friend
   word without end
 

- iv -

you're trying hard to not mention the limp
for now i'll leave that one for you to guess
i'm still your same goddamn mischievous imp
everything me still works well more or less
including the leg which walks a little odd
   blame that on god

no doubt you've also caught a few new scars
in places where you know i'd never cut
let's just say one really does see stars
and these i got when i saw little but
my legendary caution's slipped to shrugs
   blame that on drugs

my coming back that must get you amused
must tickle you pure pink you told me so
yeah except i ain't sick lost tired used
my point of no return left me years ago
returning me hard time this journey's of
   blame that on love
 

- v -

passed out irresponsibly silly drunk
any other excuse a woman like me might pass
all i remember's when i escaped from that funk
the whole damn world'd shoved itself up my ass
not near enough coming out where my mouth'd been
   that there was when

was when i heard the voices finally cease
was when what was called love inside me died
was when the moment handed me release
was when i went along for just the ride
a ride up through the mountains god knows where
   out in thin air

i'll keep in touch with who did me that drive
who hasn't said what hit him with the urge
it takes too much to keep such dreams alive
they don't turn real the instant they emerge
i only know he touched the one i was
   a good cut does

"have i been kidnapped?" darkness bent his smile
he stopped the car so i could move up front
the rock and snow took over mile on mile
i lost the itch to ask "what do you want?"
we didn't talk as though we didn't need
   he had the lead

until somewhere midmorning on a ridge
a thousand lonely worlds from any life
with icy peaks to stars stretching their bridge
and slicing up the sky the wind's cold knife
we walked us hand in hand off from his ford
   away and toward

i briefly thought the scene his fantasy
some poet fetish yeah that'd be my luck
he's brought me to this sharp infinity
and now he'll only want me here to fuck
except i'd not have minded that at all
   as i recall

as i recall i questioned how he knew
where everything inside me stood so still
as i recall his silence made it true
or if it didn't then for sure it will
i barely even heard him drive away
   or i won't say

relief at first so far i'd not been harmed
with followthrough amusement and surprise
concerned neglected paranoid alarmed
a thousand prayers a thousand more goodbyes
of every bastard asshole prick i've cursed
   i cursed him worst

then came the fear of being too exposed
for this occasion i'd not thought to dress
then horrors i'd want left as undisclosed
and sins i'd just as soon not dare confess
i figured he'd abandoned me to rot
   yeah who has not?

i know i'm not the center of my world
that i want things my way that ain't the truth
i'll even feed off shit against me hurled
and find it sweet no matter how uncouth
yet only knew that night out on my own
   i am alone

attention? yeah right paint it with a twist
pity? spend that where you'll get repaid
he'd thought himself to be as little missed?
yeah maybe so but i still felt betrayed
we feel the love the most after it's gone
   when it's withdrawn

i know i know i'm not the one to preach
to some i'll never be more than a child
but everything we need's always in reach
i found that out myself out in the wild
there's nothing accidental in love's voice
   love is a choice

love chooses to be clawed up by the bear
love chooses to fall off a jagged cliff
decides to get forgotten god knows where
accepts what happens then without the if
love makes the love that love is lover of
   love chooses love

down on the plains i'd wanted to escape
and when i die will seek such solitude
up here my peace found quite a different shape
that stripped me of my isolated mood
although it wasn't all that big a deal
   that time was real

i frolicked naked in subzero chill
and laughed so hard the echo had to blush
i watched the sun come through where day soon will
and heard old secrets snow pretends to hush
i danced i played i didn't give a damn
   how crazy i am

of course he came to drive me back to town
it's only down here friends not always do
and yeah we made love when we got back down
but not as though we'd thought it that far through
past that i've not yet seen that guy again
   thank you amen
 

- vi -

another thing i don't check in advance
will that be trouble if so tell me now
things can't go near so far outside pure chance
one chance i'd kill to let myself allow
just long enough to make us another spring
   another thing

if things work out ok we'll make that soon
to kick it off together face to face
then if we stretch it out on into june
by then i hope to have me my own place
unplanned and unintentional no doubt
   if things work out

i will return the time i lost or stole
it doesn't matter we weren't keeping track
you've never seen me when i've lost control
when i give in like that you get it back
out here i had to teach myself to learn
   i will return
 

- vii -

i got a parttime job that was legit
that worked me without taking off my jeans
some days i even half made sense of it
how one's not worth the value one demeans
so somehow i've become the best of clerks
   whatever works

i even served as substitute cashier
to be that trusted that one made me laugh
yeah even so it won't be a career
they don't expect that much of parttime staff
at least it meant i didn't have to beg
   until the leg
 

- viii -

the leg yeah god's a rank comedian
my soul's the part i meant to dislocate
i'm not so good at catch me if you can
without a knee that takes a little weight
smirk on! whoever gets it shares its shame
   limp joke gone lame

it floors me flat how people get amused
the kicks some get from anything thought odd
my size my shape the ways my body's used
perhaps they're just in image of their god
this ain't burlesque a leg no longer whole
   wrapped round a pole

i didn't do it for the cripple jokes
i didn't do it for the sympathy
it's not to score some income from a hoax
it's not broke how i'd want my leg to be
nor all the other stupid silly talk
   i just can't walk

at least not straight and not without some pain
and likely will be permanent i'm told
except that's not what moves me to complain
but how it can no longer take the cold
while time steps on through blooper flaw and glitch
   without a hitch

intentional it wasn't not this time
though who knows what my nature might intend
but if i did so what is that a crime?
there's nothing there i've a duty to defend
some things are meant while some are just because
   that's how life does

i've read somewhere how all roads intersect
except the ones diverging from a fork
this road was both together i suspect
a guy showed up i'd known back in new york
and let's just say that last time wasn't fun
   and call it done

a business trip or maybe here to ski
i'm not enough to come this far to find
but i'd seen him and knew he'd spotted me
so upped my watch ahead both sides behind
then caught him with a hand tucked down his pants
   where i go dance

there's never been a corner i can't twist
through doors and alleys only locals know
i've gotten good at being scarcely missed
a shadow shifts and i am good to go
so i saw little risk of an attack
   later out back

maybe he never meant me any harm
maybe he meant nothing but that all along
all i remember's him grabbing me by the arm
then a patch of ice i must've turned on wrong
blacked out came to finding i'd not stayed put
   dragging one foot

i'm betting i won't ever chance to see
a joint as useful as a working knee
joints get smoked by idiots like me
it takes a god to make a goddamn knee
apologies to kilmer for the point
   mine slipped its joint

ask anyone they'll say how i despise
hospitals doctors needles nurses pills
we only get what health our money buys
i'll skip them cures and settle for my ills
so though it could be years before i'll kneel
   fuck it i'll heal

again what's me still works well more or less
including the leg which walks a little weird
would i revise a word? i can't say yes
our dreams run out of things we thought we'd feared
da damn da damn da damn da damn da damn
   i'm an iamb
 

- ix -

besides i play the furtive fugitive
on roads that don't require a steady pace
i'm moving to a life that wouldn't live
a home that couldn't find its time or place
believe that and i'll not believe in you
   oh but i do

yeah sure the knee thing kicked me hard as rock
ain't no fringe benefits out here on the fringe
it killed me trying to walk halfway down my block
hell even rolling over in bed made the damn thing twinge
apparently good employment opportunities
   require working knees

at least i'd been caught up my share of the rent
even'd started to save for my proverbial rainy day
now i'm behind and what little i had's all spent
not to beg or complain just true enough to say
something else true i can say's what one learns
   no more sharp turns
 

- x -

so that should bring us mostly up to date
out here there's nothing left for me to rhyme
a week at most for me to reinstate
what better way to waste away our time
heat up some coffee pull me up a chair
   i'll see you there

Tagged with:

cautioned again

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2010/02/10
cautioned again

one. casual. shot. could. end. it. all. too soon
what little shot we've had at love could end
and bang! that quickly i'm without my friend
how uncontrollably inopportune!

far be it from my meaning to impugn
whatever fates our whereabouts suspend
however superficial or pretend
no matter how insipidly jejune

the dullest life i'd willingly embrace
without adventure challenge or event
if that means never needing to replace
your photograph with any other face
or farewell tears with any worse lament
(so stay a little longer, just in case)

Tagged with:

Ripped Tide

Posted in rondeau redoublé by maggie on 2010/04/02

You'll not be back to settle your affairs,
to sweep through driftwood pieces left behind
distinguishing what's still yours from what was theirs,
your forwarding address still undefined.

Escape! the chance to not feel so confined—
I know.  Remember, I heard all your prayers
and know the god you wanted them to find.
You'll not be back to settle your affairs,

to help identify your rightful heirs
or have your proper places reassigned,
so I'm the one the angry current dares
to sweep through driftwood pieces left behind

if but to salvage one pearl to remind
if only me what their cold questionnaires
mistook, misrepresented, and maligned,
distinguishing what's still yours from what was theirs.

So what if silence drowned you out!  Who cares?
One word of yours was worth all theirs combined.
But blank's the surface your horizon wears,
your forwarding address still undefined.

Did you just float too far?  Or was I blind
to riptides in your longings and despairs?
Tight eddies twisting through our love unwind
to solitary sides of parted pairs—
You'll not be back.

Tagged with: ,

Saw

Posted in sestina by maggie on 2010/04/08

See after the leg, I'm told. *shrug*  I don't mind
it all that much.  My step's just not so light
as used to be, no inference to draw
nor pace to which my odyssey is bound,
let me and I'd throw the damn thing out
as soon as you'd forgotten what you saw.

I used to be so careful what one saw
revealing only what I had in mind
so something like the leg wouldn't leak out
except when there was precious little light.
I've gotten careless lately, so it's bound
to flaws unwelcome scrutiny to draw.

*shrug* It's just the luck of a random draw:
a bastard from my past showed up and saw
me dancing, and I guess he wasn't bound
by courtesies that normal clients mind.
The secrets we hide most, gods bring to light,
so now I cover what I wish found out.

Except you think I need the leg checked out?
Perhaps you're right — it's difficult to draw
good tips with this bad stance.  I see the light,
in fact I see the future light you saw
and say so here, I thought you wouldn't mind,
but healing? *shrug* This leg ain't homeward bound.

I see my injury as more of a bound,
a straightjacket I need my freedom out.
My need for dancing's only in my mind,
my hand does better playing out the draw.
So I've been thinking, if I were to saw
the damned thing off, I'd be that much more light.

Don't look at me as though I'm making light
of things you care about.  I know it's bound
to look that way at first, but when this saw
has finished chopping deadwood, we'll find out
I'll turn out perfect, better apt to draw
attention off my body to my mind.

      *shrug* Pay no mind to the different light
      I've used to draw where this one's bound —
      Help stretch my leg out, and hand me that saw.

Tagged with:

Won’t Ever Quit

Posted in ballade by maggie on 2010/04/13

The dress you gave me's useless now, it's hanging on the door
as empty as the hole that's waiting for you in my bed.
I wanted it, I'll want it not.  Like love it's neither nor:
we dress it up, so what — my clothes don't care what's used for thread.
Besides you know that getting dressed's not how I make my bread.
For you perhaps I wore it well, for me it never fit,
so now your gift's a metaphor for what I need to shed:
a love that never had its chance to start won't ever quit.

Whatever were we thinking?  You're a soldier, I'm a whore:
while I don't care what's sacrificed, you'll fight until you're dead.
So off with you to wage your battles in some aimless war,
I'll defend other freedoms getting laid where you're not led.
Or am I love's true patriot?  It's you've sold out instead.
You think me a deserter?  I'm not scared, that isn't it —
the flag I'll follow isn't colored blue and white on red:
a love that never had its chance to start won't ever quit.

Yet though you've left me nothing, why I am left needing more?
Because of me, you never coming back — that's what I dread.
The time we never had to give's the time we must restore,
else when all's said and done, we'll never do all that's been said.
My new dress, your old uniform, the dreams and lives inbred —
You show me where they'll shoot you and I'll show you where I'm hit,
I show you where I'm hit, you'll show me where our sheets were spread:
a love that never had its chance to start won't ever quit.

But then, I never touched your heart.  My love was in your head.
I try my best to see that through the crack where we've been split,
yet what you couldn't have's been taken just as though we'd wed —
A love that never had its chance to start won't ever quit.

Tagged with:

Adjuraciun

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2012/01/22
 

Leave me, wicked lover! Hit the street
facefirst, for all I care. You'll not get missed
by me, what with the company you keep.
Permit me to forget you still exist
since I've existed solely for defeat,

scarcely worth your worst. Why then repeat
our sick affair? Why risk another tryst
on sins you'd have to answer for? How cheap
word gets depends — to you the twist
depends who's beating versus who gets beat. 

Go on, get out! I don't deserve the hurt
of love like yours. Leave now! I must insist.
Besides, it's not as though you owe me dirt —
I never could've been one you'd've kissed.

Tagged with: ,

Another Life

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2012/01/26
 

You're trained to handle every foreign threat?
Don't think I don't appreciate your locks
and keys and walls and guns. Your duty rocks
the world, and you don't even break a sweat.
It's just, I'd rather rock a bassinet.
The threat I fear most's knitting up these socks
with no wee feet to wear them. Freedom mocks
me showing my surrender, "Not as yet."

Like any sonnet, things don't get designed
to fall out perfect, me with you here. So
yeah, word be told, you are my life. I'd mind
your leaving, but if you should have to go,
the best of you will've been left behind —
I have another life you wouldn't know.

Tagged with: ,