What haunts me most is my imagining how perfectly she fit inside the curve of your tender spooning all of those years.
Knew the secrets your body never needed words to speak. She could hear all the places your bones would creek.
Felt the recoil of your skin when her breath was hovering over the right moment meets perfect time... and place.
And your little earth quakes would move whatever was solid beneath your hips- belly-
bottom lifted into the wet of her begging.
It says a lot about what we are NOT that we wake every morning to sheets that haven't moved.
I'd rather them be in piles on the floor- us tangled in the dirty laundry.
Dust balls clinging to our still moist places.
Explaining that gruesome bruise I earned from landing first on my chin before your mouth raced to follow all the spots that do not see daylight except for when sunrise catches us like paparazzi chasing sex scandals.
I see green when I imagine all the times you called her name and sliced your fingers on her hair as it seemed to cut off oxygen to your grasping hands- pulling her in closer to the flailing truce flag still clinched between your teeth.
And I wonder if you remember the way you kissed me up against the closet door that day- all disheveled and missing the mark- how my jaw was shaking with inadequacies.
I go to sleep each night in hopes you will teach me how to kiss you. Wake me- show me the ways to transcribe our crooked letter language. Even if it means we take up miming in silence- wearing hearing aids and kid gloves.
There is nothing more sacred to me than earning your Bliss.
While I may not fit perfect in the curve of your spoon- I well mean to cradle you till you trust in your own Shine.
--amy joon
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
yarn
yarn
that night when you kissed me I left a poem in your mouth.
you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.
and its not the best thing ive ever written.
now im still workin on my rhythm-
my tongue gets tied sometimes.
my throat gets dry-
my hands start trembling.
honestly the only thing ive mastered
is how to write a really good ending.
but im getting pretty tired of finished lines.
so this morning I bought a needle and thread
and started stitching you a sunrise
and the seems are tattered and torn
cause I got the cloth
from an old shirt I was wearing
the first time this world started tearing me open
and ive been choking for my breath since then-
have you ever spent the whole year hoping the morning wouldn’t come?
ive had a band-ade in one hand-
in the other a gun.
somethings been screaming fire kid but
somethings still screamin live.
so baby write me a bridge away from the storm-
I don’t know the words to the song you were born to sing but I know your fingers will bleed when you play the chords-
and maybe youll need me then like I need you now…
and when I say that I miss you I mean something more-
I mean I been biding my time till you kiss me again…
I keep poems like secrets then I tell them when im tired of hiding who I am….
I am missing you most in the silence between songs on my favorite record.
sometimes it takes so long for the music to start… is there a shoreline where the seaweed holds the rock so tight they soften into sand.
is it too late to say that’s how my heart feels in your hands like you could sift it thru an hour glass and pass it off as time-
never stood still and neither did i-
but I will if you let me.
in your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters.
I forget how to hold myself together.
so if I unfold now like a love letter-
tell me youll write back soon-
tell me youll come untethered-
I saw the moon last night for the first time in months-
she reminded me of you slouching stubborn in the light-
id fight battles with the sun to rest against you tonight-
to feel your breath on my pillow- those songbirds outside your window are dropping feathers like a dropped words-
im cold from all that came out wrong.
I sleep alone now-
even when I don’t.
I sleep backbone to floorboards cause theyre softer than regret- don’t let me go,
don’t let me go yet.
I traced your silhouette on the skyline-
your crooked spine bent meadows into mountains
I climb to watch the sun set
the sky never looked so gorgeous.
all those fallen stars so sick of bein famous,
that man next store with his old violin-
I swore his song could save us.
andrea Gibson
(I sleep alone now- even when I don’t. I sleep backbone to floorboards cause theyre softer than regret- don’t let me go, don’t let me go yet.)- my favorite line.
that night when you kissed me I left a poem in your mouth.
you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.
and its not the best thing ive ever written.
now im still workin on my rhythm-
my tongue gets tied sometimes.
my throat gets dry-
my hands start trembling.
honestly the only thing ive mastered
is how to write a really good ending.
but im getting pretty tired of finished lines.
so this morning I bought a needle and thread
and started stitching you a sunrise
and the seems are tattered and torn
cause I got the cloth
from an old shirt I was wearing
the first time this world started tearing me open
and ive been choking for my breath since then-
have you ever spent the whole year hoping the morning wouldn’t come?
ive had a band-ade in one hand-
in the other a gun.
somethings been screaming fire kid but
somethings still screamin live.
so baby write me a bridge away from the storm-
I don’t know the words to the song you were born to sing but I know your fingers will bleed when you play the chords-
and maybe youll need me then like I need you now…
and when I say that I miss you I mean something more-
I mean I been biding my time till you kiss me again…
I keep poems like secrets then I tell them when im tired of hiding who I am….
I am missing you most in the silence between songs on my favorite record.
sometimes it takes so long for the music to start… is there a shoreline where the seaweed holds the rock so tight they soften into sand.
is it too late to say that’s how my heart feels in your hands like you could sift it thru an hour glass and pass it off as time-
never stood still and neither did i-
but I will if you let me.
in your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters.
I forget how to hold myself together.
so if I unfold now like a love letter-
tell me youll write back soon-
tell me youll come untethered-
I saw the moon last night for the first time in months-
she reminded me of you slouching stubborn in the light-
id fight battles with the sun to rest against you tonight-
to feel your breath on my pillow- those songbirds outside your window are dropping feathers like a dropped words-
im cold from all that came out wrong.
I sleep alone now-
even when I don’t.
I sleep backbone to floorboards cause theyre softer than regret- don’t let me go,
don’t let me go yet.
I traced your silhouette on the skyline-
your crooked spine bent meadows into mountains
I climb to watch the sun set
the sky never looked so gorgeous.
all those fallen stars so sick of bein famous,
that man next store with his old violin-
I swore his song could save us.
andrea Gibson
(I sleep alone now- even when I don’t. I sleep backbone to floorboards cause theyre softer than regret- don’t let me go, don’t let me go yet.)- my favorite line.
wishes
baby- bet on those horses- on anything…
cause im bettin on you
and the upshot sky.
every star I see
and venus on her rise.
im bettin on the breeze when she blows those flower seeds
and baby- when they land
im bettin they bloom in your eyes.
I aint been touched like you touch me
and my thighs aint shook like they shake
when you move me…
im bettin my learnin on everything you mean to teach
my lovin on all the places you mean to fill me up
and lover- im bankin on you finally
letting me disarm the barricades you’ve built for walls
just to hold you, moist and warm
loved better than chocolate cake after a breakup on the back gate of my old truck.
that thing you have- your glow-
makes my mornings smell sweeter and my nights-
damn that moon just hangs there to watch me smile.
you might throw your hopes to the horses-
but im betting just about anything on you
and whats left im putting on your smile….
pressin it to my heart like a staple to a love letter I never want to lose
kissing the wind with my thank yous..
so when the money is down and the chips are in
what you called a bet
im whisperin 'their wishes.'
cause im bettin on you
and the upshot sky.
every star I see
and venus on her rise.
im bettin on the breeze when she blows those flower seeds
and baby- when they land
im bettin they bloom in your eyes.
I aint been touched like you touch me
and my thighs aint shook like they shake
when you move me…
im bettin my learnin on everything you mean to teach
my lovin on all the places you mean to fill me up
and lover- im bankin on you finally
letting me disarm the barricades you’ve built for walls
just to hold you, moist and warm
loved better than chocolate cake after a breakup on the back gate of my old truck.
that thing you have- your glow-
makes my mornings smell sweeter and my nights-
damn that moon just hangs there to watch me smile.
you might throw your hopes to the horses-
but im betting just about anything on you
and whats left im putting on your smile….
pressin it to my heart like a staple to a love letter I never want to lose
kissing the wind with my thank yous..
so when the money is down and the chips are in
what you called a bet
im whisperin 'their wishes.'
im not broken
you don’t have to be so gentle with me. im not broken. my edges are sharp. I don’t have a fear of close- although that may be healthy. its only that I mean to love.
but until your mouth to my naval- I had no intention of succumbing to gifts to my center. and still you pulled weeds in my garden. tilled I that was the earth. relaxed me like waves at the shore and prayed safe into the salt I had come to call veins.
its been a lifetime of considering ones motives. yet- here in your arms I believe you.
the last time someone whispered ‘are you ok’ in my ear was before leaving me in a heap on the bathroom floor- heaving. a little torn inside from the violence while still it felt like home.
then you walk in and give new meaning to kiss.
and so I believe your touch every time the tips of your fingers sign well into the strong of my back
im hoping your nurture is my thank you for all the years I held on by my finger nails.
_____________________
april 2009
but until your mouth to my naval- I had no intention of succumbing to gifts to my center. and still you pulled weeds in my garden. tilled I that was the earth. relaxed me like waves at the shore and prayed safe into the salt I had come to call veins.
its been a lifetime of considering ones motives. yet- here in your arms I believe you.
the last time someone whispered ‘are you ok’ in my ear was before leaving me in a heap on the bathroom floor- heaving. a little torn inside from the violence while still it felt like home.
then you walk in and give new meaning to kiss.
and so I believe your touch every time the tips of your fingers sign well into the strong of my back
im hoping your nurture is my thank you for all the years I held on by my finger nails.
_____________________
april 2009
soles
she says-
grass under the souls of feet is glorious
and i say-
everything feels good under the soles of feet-
especially grass.
and the haight in the rain at clayton
and rehoboth in june-
the board or sand-
at shore or dune
and being tangled in sheets next to that girl-
the one you waited for.
but my favorite under the soles of bare feet
is the solid ground we stand on while love calls our hearts
and we carve our names into the big oak tree near back homes creek…
hopping the slippery stones-
skin to rock- water rushing between toes…
and then i wonder-
what will you do with your teeth in my heart?
amylynn
april 2009
grass under the souls of feet is glorious
and i say-
everything feels good under the soles of feet-
especially grass.
and the haight in the rain at clayton
and rehoboth in june-
the board or sand-
at shore or dune
and being tangled in sheets next to that girl-
the one you waited for.
but my favorite under the soles of bare feet
is the solid ground we stand on while love calls our hearts
and we carve our names into the big oak tree near back homes creek…
hopping the slippery stones-
skin to rock- water rushing between toes…
and then i wonder-
what will you do with your teeth in my heart?
amylynn
april 2009
full
full
my fear is what you will fill the empty with…
the hole
and what I know
is at least I can breathe for you when its hard.
very peace and zen like
bringing in the good food
even leave you with a bell
just because im a pro at loving well.
can you forget you don’t know me?
ill read to you…
and trim your nails.
well have rituals.
ill bathe you
in one of those freestanding tubs-
with
a blend of oils that will fill your pores
like in the English patient… that afternoon they loved eachother
in that little space of time they had
and they still loved hard.
only im not looking to be loved
im not planning on asking anything from you
only for the opportunity to
rub your feet and whisper prayers into your soles
that sound something like
‘im not the people that built those walls. and id love for you to let me show up all the love I am and bring them down.’
I wont hurt you, is all. I really will show up with your best in my heart. even when I bite your toes.
I think what hurts is I well know the feeling of the after shocks- where it still feels like the earth is crumbling under your feet with a fist in the hair of your years. and I want for you to wake up in a peace every morning where those memories slip further and further away until they feel like someone elses life and you get to breathe deep in contentment to your now.
but ill pray silently…
and youll ask ‘what did you say…’
but I cant tell you.
it would ruin the surprise of your becoming.
and I want us to take the best walks.
I wont talk…
you can if you like. or not if you don’t.
and when I watch you sleep-
I will no longer take pictures,
ill sketch you
all princess and the pea like-
for the way you love your bed.
ill sing you awake on Monday mornings
and play that new song ive
been picking…
teach you a chord a week.
create together.
before I slip out the door
and ill even give you 23 hours a day, 6 days a week to live your way….
all aimless and unsure like….
just trade me that one hour a day - 1 day a week
we can wear blind folds-
change our names
and be from different cities.
talk with an accent.
just let me love you…
let me be what fills the hole in those minutes and hours.
cause the way you love
it deserves to be nurtured
gratitude showered on it
and observation…
I take notes.
daily.
only I don’t think you receive my thank yous
a little at a time
you will believe the glow on your skin…
and finally you will know
that it was always your home
your comfort will relax your lip
and you will speak the most beautiful
dreams.
well weave them into songs and take this show on the road…
the first album entitled- ‘full’.
-amylynn
5.14.09
9:46pm
my fear is what you will fill the empty with…
the hole
and what I know
is at least I can breathe for you when its hard.
very peace and zen like
bringing in the good food
even leave you with a bell
just because im a pro at loving well.
can you forget you don’t know me?
ill read to you…
and trim your nails.
well have rituals.
ill bathe you
in one of those freestanding tubs-
with
a blend of oils that will fill your pores
like in the English patient… that afternoon they loved eachother
in that little space of time they had
and they still loved hard.
only im not looking to be loved
im not planning on asking anything from you
only for the opportunity to
rub your feet and whisper prayers into your soles
that sound something like
‘im not the people that built those walls. and id love for you to let me show up all the love I am and bring them down.’
I wont hurt you, is all. I really will show up with your best in my heart. even when I bite your toes.
I think what hurts is I well know the feeling of the after shocks- where it still feels like the earth is crumbling under your feet with a fist in the hair of your years. and I want for you to wake up in a peace every morning where those memories slip further and further away until they feel like someone elses life and you get to breathe deep in contentment to your now.
but ill pray silently…
and youll ask ‘what did you say…’
but I cant tell you.
it would ruin the surprise of your becoming.
and I want us to take the best walks.
I wont talk…
you can if you like. or not if you don’t.
and when I watch you sleep-
I will no longer take pictures,
ill sketch you
all princess and the pea like-
for the way you love your bed.
ill sing you awake on Monday mornings
and play that new song ive
been picking…
teach you a chord a week.
create together.
before I slip out the door
and ill even give you 23 hours a day, 6 days a week to live your way….
all aimless and unsure like….
just trade me that one hour a day - 1 day a week
we can wear blind folds-
change our names
and be from different cities.
talk with an accent.
just let me love you…
let me be what fills the hole in those minutes and hours.
cause the way you love
it deserves to be nurtured
gratitude showered on it
and observation…
I take notes.
daily.
only I don’t think you receive my thank yous
a little at a time
you will believe the glow on your skin…
and finally you will know
that it was always your home
your comfort will relax your lip
and you will speak the most beautiful
dreams.
well weave them into songs and take this show on the road…
the first album entitled- ‘full’.
-amylynn
5.14.09
9:46pm
bloom
bloom
i want to know who got to you. how. who let them.
i want to kiss that place inside of you where the pain sits-
make the soil of you fertile with life and plant you a flower garden at what was the grave of your innocence
pull up a seat watch the sun rise and
feast in the easier you breathe.
when you collapse to my breath and
count the beats of all three speeds of my heart-
know your gentle may have saved me.
i press my lips to the forehead of each one of your memories
and seal before- making room for now.
and there may be a someday where i can kiss the corner of your chin and you will feel loved.
for now-
you come with a list of demands written across your belly like a declaration
and we breathe deep before you let me put my hands in your hair
lover- i only mean to cradle your head in your sleep
to keep your dreams in the garden im tending for you-
where every hurt youve known
is now a flower leaning toward the suns of our mornings.
amylynn 4.28.09 8:16pm
i want to know who got to you. how. who let them.
i want to kiss that place inside of you where the pain sits-
make the soil of you fertile with life and plant you a flower garden at what was the grave of your innocence
pull up a seat watch the sun rise and
feast in the easier you breathe.
when you collapse to my breath and
count the beats of all three speeds of my heart-
know your gentle may have saved me.
i press my lips to the forehead of each one of your memories
and seal before- making room for now.
and there may be a someday where i can kiss the corner of your chin and you will feel loved.
for now-
you come with a list of demands written across your belly like a declaration
and we breathe deep before you let me put my hands in your hair
lover- i only mean to cradle your head in your sleep
to keep your dreams in the garden im tending for you-
where every hurt youve known
is now a flower leaning toward the suns of our mornings.
amylynn 4.28.09 8:16pm
I love the way you say my name-
beit Bebe, Darling or Dear.
Whichever way you choose to string your words
However it is repeated and replaced for the others.
Mostly I see it written, casually as if on a napkin-
and I imagine what it’s like falling from your bottom lip,
into my lap- as if you’ve wrapped it, fresh and bright-
placing it between my chin and knees as a gift.
“ I knew noone had caressed the Y in your name with quite the intent to undress you as I have, I thought you may like to frame the moist of your mouth for the times when I’m away…”
I think it’s more
That you like watching me trip on my words
My poise to scatter at your feet
And to challenge the idea of me- out of my bra
Before we are even out of the car.
( I will not either confirm or deny the notion that I may have these images in my head- or the why.)
While I am fascinated to better witness the soft of your mouth
And even more to taste the shape of your bottom lip-
For now I can just
Trace the idea of the way you say my name
And fall asleep unalone.
18 December 2007
7pm.
beit Bebe, Darling or Dear.
Whichever way you choose to string your words
However it is repeated and replaced for the others.
Mostly I see it written, casually as if on a napkin-
and I imagine what it’s like falling from your bottom lip,
into my lap- as if you’ve wrapped it, fresh and bright-
placing it between my chin and knees as a gift.
“ I knew noone had caressed the Y in your name with quite the intent to undress you as I have, I thought you may like to frame the moist of your mouth for the times when I’m away…”
I think it’s more
That you like watching me trip on my words
My poise to scatter at your feet
And to challenge the idea of me- out of my bra
Before we are even out of the car.
( I will not either confirm or deny the notion that I may have these images in my head- or the why.)
While I am fascinated to better witness the soft of your mouth
And even more to taste the shape of your bottom lip-
For now I can just
Trace the idea of the way you say my name
And fall asleep unalone.
18 December 2007
7pm.
if i never say his name again
language does not have a word for the beyond love between some friends.
even to sign it you would have to pair anguish bliss and love in 6 syllables in a heap, yet wrapped snug in peace- neck raised to the sun.
and as my eyes sting, burning the place his lashes would rest at my temples, when I stood in his arms at the end of long days, filled with less words than notions- when we found no need to speak-
I am amazed that in 20 years we could have packed this place to the gills with understanding that never needed words.
If I never say his name again, the universe would not forget the prayers my dreams beg for him and he walks taller for my efforts.
but then, it was always effortless.
Space will take action- where love never required it.
when you love someone more than whatever ‘in love’ is- you don’t mess that up.
he says I loved him better than anyone in his life. called it Royalty.
I can only hope that time will be a bridge never burned by my goodbye.
april 2008
even to sign it you would have to pair anguish bliss and love in 6 syllables in a heap, yet wrapped snug in peace- neck raised to the sun.
and as my eyes sting, burning the place his lashes would rest at my temples, when I stood in his arms at the end of long days, filled with less words than notions- when we found no need to speak-
I am amazed that in 20 years we could have packed this place to the gills with understanding that never needed words.
If I never say his name again, the universe would not forget the prayers my dreams beg for him and he walks taller for my efforts.
but then, it was always effortless.
Space will take action- where love never required it.
when you love someone more than whatever ‘in love’ is- you don’t mess that up.
he says I loved him better than anyone in his life. called it Royalty.
I can only hope that time will be a bridge never burned by my goodbye.
april 2008
nameless
nameless
today
I loved you enough
to not even whisper your name
but burn the paper
and when you tossed in your sleep
my ghost brought you a glass of water and
quenched the empty in your pitt with a forehead kiss
and my absence it left room
for her sails to wrap around your want
and you drifted only closer
in our silence
to the someday of our finally…
You have to stop the madness of your dreams!
cause when your miss calls my name
not even nailing my feet to the floor can keep
my stumpps from dragging to you
and im heavy in the burden of this mud
up to my waist
flailing
to keep from betraying my best for you
in need
to love
you
well.
in your keeping
2 . 14 . 09
today
I loved you enough
to not even whisper your name
but burn the paper
and when you tossed in your sleep
my ghost brought you a glass of water and
quenched the empty in your pitt with a forehead kiss
and my absence it left room
for her sails to wrap around your want
and you drifted only closer
in our silence
to the someday of our finally…
You have to stop the madness of your dreams!
cause when your miss calls my name
not even nailing my feet to the floor can keep
my stumpps from dragging to you
and im heavy in the burden of this mud
up to my waist
flailing
to keep from betraying my best for you
in need
to love
you
well.
in your keeping
2 . 14 . 09
the sun its gonna shine
In the syllables left un-uttered
All the easier things are made
And in the quiet where you left me in wait
I fill the void of anticipation
With tunes, in G
And as Good JJ permeates
The marrow of my wrist
I write eagerly toward a sunset in Seattle
Oh I run toward the sand and grow rich
Rooted deep
Clean as I become
I look to lie awake in fantasy of
A tomorrow I had yet to envision.
Suddenly I feel a sorrow as though I broke a promise to myself
The sadness of the not of you and the denial of me…
It weakens my resolve- but only for moments
Cause the Sun it’s gonna shine-
See, here it comes…
Aahhhh
It peaks above a green apple sea, fighting to hold her own
And allows me the song of the waves on a canvas of orange.
Baby you glow.
You glow.
Burn at both ends and place the knowing of your becoming
in my bosom
As I sit on the sidelines and applaud
Run harder and faster toward your dreams
I’m next to you.
Stop for breath and inhale the transitions like culture – solidity
I’ll be wrapped in your branches, rested like a hammock
and as I call you home
I will then know me.
I wont be that girl in conversations where it starts-
yeah- she kind of has a crush on me.
please don’t ever minimize my commitment to your becoming that way.
you can-
if you like-
refer to me as
friend.
one who loves you well.
even-
she is pretty passionate about liking who I am.
but I DO NOT have a crush on you.
I am,
however,
flat out devoted to the evolution of you-
without an agenda that serves myself.
thanks.
5.22.09
yeah- she kind of has a crush on me.
please don’t ever minimize my commitment to your becoming that way.
you can-
if you like-
refer to me as
friend.
one who loves you well.
even-
she is pretty passionate about liking who I am.
but I DO NOT have a crush on you.
I am,
however,
flat out devoted to the evolution of you-
without an agenda that serves myself.
thanks.
5.22.09
in response to as a lover does
if one wanted to kiss all the places on you that trepidation sneaks from- it may take an afternoon. and I am no longer the one to lay and wish to heal you.
but love- cancer did receive her transforming moon in December
and you were so loved in the moment of its rise that there is no other recourse for your life but to reach
not so much for stars or even things outside yourself
but to your becoming
and with every embrace you know between
Decembers moon and the evolution of yourself as goddess-
you will have stayed suspended in the whole of your life
by arms of a family you couldn’t trust would
embrace you as ‘ours’ from day one
but oh we have.
enjoy the ebb and flow of the losing and finding of yourself
you are never without.
I would love to have been in those rooms-
felt the furnace of your love
and teared at the ways you were one
in loving you well-
I have wished more for your happiness
than hurt for the absence of you
and while your knees are a little bruised right now for the
fall-
you stand so gracefully reaching
that again- your nature will lean you
even more
into the sun-
-kissed in the mornings of summer
and there will be a someday when the hibernations of winter will be just a story we tell to GMac.
amy lynn
my response to as a lover does… kiss.
( love you anna)
but love- cancer did receive her transforming moon in December
and you were so loved in the moment of its rise that there is no other recourse for your life but to reach
not so much for stars or even things outside yourself
but to your becoming
and with every embrace you know between
Decembers moon and the evolution of yourself as goddess-
you will have stayed suspended in the whole of your life
by arms of a family you couldn’t trust would
embrace you as ‘ours’ from day one
but oh we have.
enjoy the ebb and flow of the losing and finding of yourself
you are never without.
I would love to have been in those rooms-
felt the furnace of your love
and teared at the ways you were one
in loving you well-
I have wished more for your happiness
than hurt for the absence of you
and while your knees are a little bruised right now for the
fall-
you stand so gracefully reaching
that again- your nature will lean you
even more
into the sun-
-kissed in the mornings of summer
and there will be a someday when the hibernations of winter will be just a story we tell to GMac.
amy lynn
my response to as a lover does… kiss.
( love you anna)
why
Why? Why is it that men will lay there and watch you- put on panties, bra, pants one leg at a time…. talk your ear off… But the minute your hair is done and you are 3 seconds away from being late and you have one foot out the door-
They come in for the hug. The one where he slides his hands down the back of your pants. And before you know it- thru vehement protests that you will be late and you don’t have time- you are naked on the gatdamn livingroom floor.
Oh and be fresh out of the shower and smelling very fresh? Hell NO! Not for long. That man will have to make sure you smell like him for the rest of the day.
Why?
They come in for the hug. The one where he slides his hands down the back of your pants. And before you know it- thru vehement protests that you will be late and you don’t have time- you are naked on the gatdamn livingroom floor.
Oh and be fresh out of the shower and smelling very fresh? Hell NO! Not for long. That man will have to make sure you smell like him for the rest of the day.
Why?
words
It s a little young, but beautiful to watch
it’s a love fresh and
alive
a bit wet behind the ears
complete with a run in the hose
and blood red polish to stop the snag
he makes love to her
in the words to his songs
and she spills poetry out on paper
like the pages are burning from the
back of the book and the only thing that’ll
put it out is the completion of her manuscript
to sit in a room with it
the creativity swells
and turns
history is born in
a matter of words.
_________
for sunshine and sol march 2008
it’s a love fresh and
alive
a bit wet behind the ears
complete with a run in the hose
and blood red polish to stop the snag
he makes love to her
in the words to his songs
and she spills poetry out on paper
like the pages are burning from the
back of the book and the only thing that’ll
put it out is the completion of her manuscript
to sit in a room with it
the creativity swells
and turns
history is born in
a matter of words.
_________
for sunshine and sol march 2008
warmly
you walked in that door and I fell back a few feet- I was struck. and I thought about you all week. I wanted to know you.
I have a lot of questions. and you lovingly have the answers.
and sometimes you look at me and you insist on the eye contact because you want to be sure im ok with what im hearing.
can I tell you something-
there is not a string of words or experiences you could hand me that I wont be able to fit inside myself and understand- the shame or regret- the euphoria of love or the quiet of reflection.
I stepped into the wander of you with 2 feet and this water its nice and warm.
I met a woman with a peace like yours in the fall. and I love her for her peace. still. you extend your peace to me with a warmth where you thoroughly enjoy my company and I know I keep looking at you like I don’t get it- because I don’t.
your fucking amazing. sexy. hilarious. hot. warm. full…
and you fill me.
im not sure why you think there is a thing you could say that would make me think youre a bad idea- except for if someone made you feel like who you are is a bad thing.
unacceptable.
you show up all this beauty. and every moment before today was the oil to your canvas. I don’t want to undo a single shade of you.
the care and respect you have given me already heals so many aches and when you talk about that trip in may and waiting to tell me why it makes you cry- its so damn hard to leave you to your solitude…
but I know that the study I mean to be of you will take time…
ive said a few times these months that I knew I would love again… only I didn’t think id let someone love me.
you my friend- I will let love me.
warmly- a.
4.18.09 5:51pm
I have a lot of questions. and you lovingly have the answers.
and sometimes you look at me and you insist on the eye contact because you want to be sure im ok with what im hearing.
can I tell you something-
there is not a string of words or experiences you could hand me that I wont be able to fit inside myself and understand- the shame or regret- the euphoria of love or the quiet of reflection.
I stepped into the wander of you with 2 feet and this water its nice and warm.
I met a woman with a peace like yours in the fall. and I love her for her peace. still. you extend your peace to me with a warmth where you thoroughly enjoy my company and I know I keep looking at you like I don’t get it- because I don’t.
your fucking amazing. sexy. hilarious. hot. warm. full…
and you fill me.
im not sure why you think there is a thing you could say that would make me think youre a bad idea- except for if someone made you feel like who you are is a bad thing.
unacceptable.
you show up all this beauty. and every moment before today was the oil to your canvas. I don’t want to undo a single shade of you.
the care and respect you have given me already heals so many aches and when you talk about that trip in may and waiting to tell me why it makes you cry- its so damn hard to leave you to your solitude…
but I know that the study I mean to be of you will take time…
ive said a few times these months that I knew I would love again… only I didn’t think id let someone love me.
you my friend- I will let love me.
warmly- a.
4.18.09 5:51pm
makes me glow
ive come to realize that you make me feel like a beautiful, radiant and accomplished woman. its your affliction. you generate that love in the reach of your circle and beyond.
i had a dream about your love last night. not as lover, as friend. i woke up this morning with glowing skin and a confidence that feels infectious. you make me a better human. i love you inside of that space- be it a new book- a great hug- a place to speak of my dreams.
you are one of the few places in my life where i feel someone is proud of me.
thank you!
a
8 . 26 . 07
written at Unity on a prayer list for world day of prayer…
and with all the space my love will continue to maintain between us- every word remains my truth- only with the intent to love you well.
( kiss those babies).
i had a dream about your love last night. not as lover, as friend. i woke up this morning with glowing skin and a confidence that feels infectious. you make me a better human. i love you inside of that space- be it a new book- a great hug- a place to speak of my dreams.
you are one of the few places in my life where i feel someone is proud of me.
thank you!
a
8 . 26 . 07
written at Unity on a prayer list for world day of prayer…
and with all the space my love will continue to maintain between us- every word remains my truth- only with the intent to love you well.
( kiss those babies).
feels like home
threw in ‘feels like home today’. i was thirsty for norah. realized it was the one You gave me. he had given it to me too- only in may- when Yours had come in february- randomly. a box on the front step…for valentines day…. if he had ever paid better attention to me- he would have noticed. but he didn’t really care to know me like You did.
and i got to thinking- You paid such good attention. that’s how You knew gospel was my favorite music. but then You always knew i thought i was a slave freer in a past life.
i take the long way home. or at least i always have. maybe lately ive been resting more & slowing the pace- but keeping in a straighter line toward an integrity to myself…
i missed You today. a few times. when she called me on the phone. when he finished my laundry. when i was in the grocery store & i wanted for your waffles… and to smother some chicken to go with them- chicken was on sale.
You aren’t much of a kisser. and we were never the lovers to eachother that he & i have been… but Youre still my home. Your mom is my mom. Your kids- my kids. Your shoulder is still my rock & Your ear- my intellect.
im not sure i will ever be able to throw in most music circa 2008 & not find a memory of us. I still drift off into space & im in the park with You- may 1995… that dog barking up & down the river & us on that blanket wearing what seems like nothing but your crooked grin and the comfort of my finally.
bebe- when Your restless in the evenings & thirsty for the tall glass of water I always was to You- write it down…. chase the pages with Your pen & mail full journals to me- anonymous. You will sleep better. honest.
i – i found You so much new music this year- but all I really want to listen to is favorite- by neko case. only i refuse.
You have always been my favorite. and i Yours. and im not sure why You couldn’t be in a room with me without us crossing the line. but I do know for sure- that I have walked away from the compromise to our higher selves- for good.
loving You-
me.
( as in the morning fades out & be here to love me begins.)
March 24th, 2009 5pm.
and i got to thinking- You paid such good attention. that’s how You knew gospel was my favorite music. but then You always knew i thought i was a slave freer in a past life.
i take the long way home. or at least i always have. maybe lately ive been resting more & slowing the pace- but keeping in a straighter line toward an integrity to myself…
i missed You today. a few times. when she called me on the phone. when he finished my laundry. when i was in the grocery store & i wanted for your waffles… and to smother some chicken to go with them- chicken was on sale.
You aren’t much of a kisser. and we were never the lovers to eachother that he & i have been… but Youre still my home. Your mom is my mom. Your kids- my kids. Your shoulder is still my rock & Your ear- my intellect.
im not sure i will ever be able to throw in most music circa 2008 & not find a memory of us. I still drift off into space & im in the park with You- may 1995… that dog barking up & down the river & us on that blanket wearing what seems like nothing but your crooked grin and the comfort of my finally.
bebe- when Your restless in the evenings & thirsty for the tall glass of water I always was to You- write it down…. chase the pages with Your pen & mail full journals to me- anonymous. You will sleep better. honest.
i – i found You so much new music this year- but all I really want to listen to is favorite- by neko case. only i refuse.
You have always been my favorite. and i Yours. and im not sure why You couldn’t be in a room with me without us crossing the line. but I do know for sure- that I have walked away from the compromise to our higher selves- for good.
loving You-
me.
( as in the morning fades out & be here to love me begins.)
March 24th, 2009 5pm.
loving well
steven and I have a connection of emotional intellect that rivals any relationship I have… and he keeps me grounded in the laws of the universe when I want to go back to being my history- my story…
I have come to accept that every single thing is a gift. and to actually sit then- in wait- of what is coming next- because I do know for sure- that I signed up for every bit of it.
I no longer resist the universe. even when losing the children. I had to agree that these were their contracts.
ive distinguished a few of my agreements over the years… loving well and value have been two. I have known for the greater part of my adult life that I came into this life to learn my own value- and then impart that knowing to every person I will have the opportunity to touch- and to do that in diligent action.
gary Zukav says, in soul to soul- ‘ you cannot experience the vastness of your ability to love by loving in moderation. you may not be able to hug everyone you meet, but your heart can be open…’ he goes on to say ‘ openness to others as you would like others to be open to you, is love. love is making the needs of others as important as your own- love is a fire that is out of control. once ignited, it cannot be contained. you may strive for moderation in diet, exercise and work out hours, but striving for moderation in love is like striving for moderation in breathing- practice moderation in all things, except love. ‘ ( footnote- love is NOT romance)
therefore- in my connection with myself- I then extend that connection in community- and hold a space of love wherever I am.
the night I met steven- I literally crossed the dance floor to dance with him… all night long… and fell in lifetime love with him- instantly. people debate love at first sight. I hook line and sinker believe that we can recognize pieces of ourselves instantly- and invest in that extension of ourselves with every ounce of our spirit the moment the universe gives us opportunity… and if you recognize that opportunity instantly- ( I have an intuition that takes speaking to my heart very seriously)- then by all means- reach out and touch the heart of that someone.
turns out- steven didn’t feel he was very ready at first… but you should see us now…
playing gestures on mill in the coffee shop the other day- he gently walked up to a woman he had never met and asked her to join us… we made a little conversation and she was up to her elbows in our game, invited us to her salon, exchanged cards and we had a new friend…. I love that he reaches out to people… and that Jorge shared him with me!
few people make me feel as special in my kind of special as steven does. he loves my furnace and he increasingly understands it…
he asked me the other day how I like to be loved. I almost said ‘ very carefully ‘ ( I have an incredibly sensitive heart…) but instead I said, ‘ with time…’- and I do. I require contact and longevity… a quality in the words between us and an openness that may feel intrusive, but in reality, I only seek to understand- at times I feel understood.
ive always had more emotional intelligence than smarts. I am certainly infinitely square… and casual with myself or others is just not in my cards. I say thank you to steven for never trying to change me- but only to better clarify my contracts and help me to keep my agreements.
I have come to accept that every single thing is a gift. and to actually sit then- in wait- of what is coming next- because I do know for sure- that I signed up for every bit of it.
I no longer resist the universe. even when losing the children. I had to agree that these were their contracts.
ive distinguished a few of my agreements over the years… loving well and value have been two. I have known for the greater part of my adult life that I came into this life to learn my own value- and then impart that knowing to every person I will have the opportunity to touch- and to do that in diligent action.
gary Zukav says, in soul to soul- ‘ you cannot experience the vastness of your ability to love by loving in moderation. you may not be able to hug everyone you meet, but your heart can be open…’ he goes on to say ‘ openness to others as you would like others to be open to you, is love. love is making the needs of others as important as your own- love is a fire that is out of control. once ignited, it cannot be contained. you may strive for moderation in diet, exercise and work out hours, but striving for moderation in love is like striving for moderation in breathing- practice moderation in all things, except love. ‘ ( footnote- love is NOT romance)
therefore- in my connection with myself- I then extend that connection in community- and hold a space of love wherever I am.
the night I met steven- I literally crossed the dance floor to dance with him… all night long… and fell in lifetime love with him- instantly. people debate love at first sight. I hook line and sinker believe that we can recognize pieces of ourselves instantly- and invest in that extension of ourselves with every ounce of our spirit the moment the universe gives us opportunity… and if you recognize that opportunity instantly- ( I have an intuition that takes speaking to my heart very seriously)- then by all means- reach out and touch the heart of that someone.
turns out- steven didn’t feel he was very ready at first… but you should see us now…
playing gestures on mill in the coffee shop the other day- he gently walked up to a woman he had never met and asked her to join us… we made a little conversation and she was up to her elbows in our game, invited us to her salon, exchanged cards and we had a new friend…. I love that he reaches out to people… and that Jorge shared him with me!
few people make me feel as special in my kind of special as steven does. he loves my furnace and he increasingly understands it…
he asked me the other day how I like to be loved. I almost said ‘ very carefully ‘ ( I have an incredibly sensitive heart…) but instead I said, ‘ with time…’- and I do. I require contact and longevity… a quality in the words between us and an openness that may feel intrusive, but in reality, I only seek to understand- at times I feel understood.
ive always had more emotional intelligence than smarts. I am certainly infinitely square… and casual with myself or others is just not in my cards. I say thank you to steven for never trying to change me- but only to better clarify my contracts and help me to keep my agreements.
Friday, May 22, 2009
whats mine is yours
I dont often walk around with a deficiency in confidence, simply because I know how I love. Yet, with her I seldom feel like enough. Certainly I know I'm enough observation or emotion; intellect or culture... but I fall terribly short on beauty and poise. Ive come accustomed to wanting more for people than my art or gifts... maybe because I waited too long to turn down the sound of the ache in his heart that I wasn't his favorite flavor.
Jorge and I can have big conversations about it- and thank god he understands. I have known little desire that equals her mouth or my want for it in the rain- but ill put it away just to dream for her. And the bigger I hope for her life the easier the letting go will become. Her glow is the most real emotion I've craved in a long time. Ah the beauty of desire in the morning is a cold splash to the face and she breaths deeper in our words than I could ever allow my want to betray...
Ive enjoyed her open and I lie awake in the unraveling of her reflections. To better understand her sputter, Ill wrap my arms around my passion and rock it to sleep because watching the rise and fall of her breath in the mornings, early and dim- does my heart more good than moments alone with the wet of her whisper.
I'll love her more than needing to kiss her mouth.
Theres something very whats mine is yours about her... and I'm falling for it. Slowly and then not so slowly. I'm careful not to bite off more than I can chew- but I no less ache for her to fill my mouth with what she knows...
When from the door the second conversation you want to have with someone is- always friends right? You protect that. And so I will. The space will make room for a garden of new knowing and she will bring a beauty to my table- and I will have grown into one who loves her better than most- sincerely.
Amy lynn
Jorge and I can have big conversations about it- and thank god he understands. I have known little desire that equals her mouth or my want for it in the rain- but ill put it away just to dream for her. And the bigger I hope for her life the easier the letting go will become. Her glow is the most real emotion I've craved in a long time. Ah the beauty of desire in the morning is a cold splash to the face and she breaths deeper in our words than I could ever allow my want to betray...
Ive enjoyed her open and I lie awake in the unraveling of her reflections. To better understand her sputter, Ill wrap my arms around my passion and rock it to sleep because watching the rise and fall of her breath in the mornings, early and dim- does my heart more good than moments alone with the wet of her whisper.
I'll love her more than needing to kiss her mouth.
Theres something very whats mine is yours about her... and I'm falling for it. Slowly and then not so slowly. I'm careful not to bite off more than I can chew- but I no less ache for her to fill my mouth with what she knows...
When from the door the second conversation you want to have with someone is- always friends right? You protect that. And so I will. The space will make room for a garden of new knowing and she will bring a beauty to my table- and I will have grown into one who loves her better than most- sincerely.
Amy lynn
double fisted
You didnt even give me a fighting chance! And I would have loved you with one hand tied behind my back.... when now I need to love you with both fists- in your hair- arms slipped behind your hips- lifting you into my want.
But its a one man show of guns- and no question of whose love ends up being bigger- the girl with the only heart in the running...
But its a one man show of guns- and no question of whose love ends up being bigger- the girl with the only heart in the running...
Friday, May 1, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
want
I was laying in bed this morning wrapped in thoughts of you. I could smell your skin- you were so close to me. I tried us on in every light- town- night. Wanted to know all the places I could fill you up- keep you warm and more than fed. I get a little taken with your beauty and the sexy of your voice makes you stutter in my mind- for my loving to hear how you say that... again and again.
But i already know the challenges and I cant even pretend that Im either your equal or able to be enough. But i will be the best friend you have ever had for as long as you let me. You can fall asleep on my chest at the flicker of the screen and Ill just be in love with the smell of your hair. As it is you leave me breathless.
me
But i already know the challenges and I cant even pretend that Im either your equal or able to be enough. But i will be the best friend you have ever had for as long as you let me. You can fall asleep on my chest at the flicker of the screen and Ill just be in love with the smell of your hair. As it is you leave me breathless.
me
Saturday, November 22, 2008
im not gonna beg you
There was an afternoon in the beginning of August where we were at the very end of whatever was left of the very end of whatever Us had become.... and the soundtrack to those few hours was a cd I had made for the first time we were at the end of whatever us was a few years before.
I straddled him on his lap and sang him all the words to snipits that seemed they were written for us. I started paying attention to the stories when natalie merchant was singing- I'm not gonna beg you for nothing, Im not gonna beg you for your love...
And he let me kiss that dimple on his chin, the bridge of his nose and my favorite- his eyelids. And when his hands were rested on my hips, I wanted to lean into him and fall asleep in the cradle of his arms. But I had to tell him the story of the time Jake walked into my dads with a bag of potatoes, ready for dinner- while I was singing seven years by natalie and at the last bridge of the song jake says- 'Damn, Ma girl is singing with a golden set of pipes...'
its funny, I tend to have soundtracks to major events- ill make a few cd's to get me thru something and sing thru my emotions... I can be pretty passive aggressive with my soundtracks.
I spent the greater part of the summer belting out songs like- Im not myslef when I'm with you, Amos lee- inspite of all the damage I have done, The be good tanyas- and deliberately listening to she's mine for the bulk of july in some twisted attempt to get used to her on him...
over the years I can remember some pretty impressive playlists that weve made love to. My favorite might have been the jeep in california when I was 5 months pregnant with Naz and Alice was playing a live in studio of the counting crows- August and everything after... in the back seat... parked behind my favorite restaurant... and we had our own place of course. I just like it outdoors.
August 6th- our last playlist will be the one that plays in my head the most... funny- that cd ended with let him fly- patty griffin covering the chicks.
He made love to me on the ottoman in the livingroom she calls hers now... and held me the rest of the afternoon... before one last round in the shower... the kids came home from school and that was it. we were done. except for I found that cd when I was looking for music today. Its called August. ( guess my life is the everything after...)
The songs always remember when.
I straddled him on his lap and sang him all the words to snipits that seemed they were written for us. I started paying attention to the stories when natalie merchant was singing- I'm not gonna beg you for nothing, Im not gonna beg you for your love...
And he let me kiss that dimple on his chin, the bridge of his nose and my favorite- his eyelids. And when his hands were rested on my hips, I wanted to lean into him and fall asleep in the cradle of his arms. But I had to tell him the story of the time Jake walked into my dads with a bag of potatoes, ready for dinner- while I was singing seven years by natalie and at the last bridge of the song jake says- 'Damn, Ma girl is singing with a golden set of pipes...'
its funny, I tend to have soundtracks to major events- ill make a few cd's to get me thru something and sing thru my emotions... I can be pretty passive aggressive with my soundtracks.
I spent the greater part of the summer belting out songs like- Im not myslef when I'm with you, Amos lee- inspite of all the damage I have done, The be good tanyas- and deliberately listening to she's mine for the bulk of july in some twisted attempt to get used to her on him...
over the years I can remember some pretty impressive playlists that weve made love to. My favorite might have been the jeep in california when I was 5 months pregnant with Naz and Alice was playing a live in studio of the counting crows- August and everything after... in the back seat... parked behind my favorite restaurant... and we had our own place of course. I just like it outdoors.
August 6th- our last playlist will be the one that plays in my head the most... funny- that cd ended with let him fly- patty griffin covering the chicks.
He made love to me on the ottoman in the livingroom she calls hers now... and held me the rest of the afternoon... before one last round in the shower... the kids came home from school and that was it. we were done. except for I found that cd when I was looking for music today. Its called August. ( guess my life is the everything after...)
The songs always remember when.
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