bad night's sleep april 29,2005

i've been
too tired
lately to get
off the stupid couch.
i forgo warm blankets
pillow top mattress
slinking in next
to his warm
comforting body
toes touching
(i thought i'd never be down with this)
letting him play
the role of fearless
unconscious male
who will battle
all of the things
that go bump in the night.
but i've had none of this...
instead i'm fully dressed
fully passed out
subjected to my own purgatory
of smooshed couch cushions
out of place grandma hips
and the drivel of infomercials
that are excited to have an audience
comatose or otherwise.
i feel so old with my creaky
achy breaky skeleton
my inability to keep going and going
and twice now i have fallen asleep
on huckabees
is this how it begins-
the road to middle age
is this the first step in the initiation-
honestly i'm fighting it all the way
tooth and nail and brave heart bravado.
i'm not ready for all that comes with old age
i'm too young to have joints that pop and hiss
i've surpassed the crazy lady stage prematurely
and so you got to cut me break

20/20 april 28,2005

the people
whom i generally
do not care for
repulse or grate
my nerves slice layer
by microscopic layer
chinese water torture
fingernails on chalkboards.
i have found.
after a quiet ride home
or a nice long shower
are people that resemble me.
get woozy from the weight of
would rather be blind to
the realization because
the mirror image beats
the crap out and i struggle
to find any reason
why i should just not
hate and loathe and hang up my hat.

even more interesting
as i watch them act out
role play entire scenes
of my life awkward
clumsy girl making eyes
sitting a little bit closer
to the beligerent boy with
no heart or interest
beyond his own and she feels
maybe just maybe he might
see something something
she can not see
so she tries to play other roles
to show that she's versatile
hollow and transparent
egg on her face
looks utterly ridiculous
i want to smack her
or shake her give her
a heaping dose of
truth hurts and tell her
to hang up the
marilyn monroe
coyness and puppy dog
eyes because i've
got her number
i know the ending
to this particular story.
her loud laughter hides
the hurt in her eyes
the jokey smurf persona
makes her the punchline
but i can only watch.
passive observer
force myself to find
compassion and cover my eyes
on the parts that i just can't bear to watch-
like when you'd watch an r rated movie
as a kid
in those moments when my
hand serves as a blinder
eyes closed.prayers spoken.
mercy flowing.i hope the best
for all of us.for she and i
and for the grace that covers
it all.even the stuff
that i can't bear to see
anymore.

in memory-a sestina april 27,2005

you can still see the sweet
little feet,tiny hands child
size embrace,huge dreams.Mother
and little boy love-and Father
spend moments and minutes-days
of bedtime stories and drifting to sleep

in lands of too good to sleep.
pirate ships-grand adventures and sweet
little questions.Rosebud lips and days
of Heaven on Earth with this child
every bit of father
lovely boy version of mother.

and hopes of jewels and mother
of pearl wisdom. Days without sleep
taking turns walking floors.Father
and Mother-sleepy smiles for this sweet
little boy-their most precious child
for forver and days

and days
for mother
and child
fallen sleep
on her chest-sweet
picture for father.

dad's pride and joy.Father
and son moments-unspeakable days
of baseballs and finger painted sweet
valentines for his love of a mother
who sings-hushed tones bring sleep
to little one so loved.Child

of promise of happiness. This child.
time spent curled around Father
and memories of a gentle sleep
quiet.hushed breath.hushed echos-days
not forgotten of dreams for his mother
to hold this handsome boy so sweet

in an embrace of lifetimes.Days
of father and dear child and mother
cradled in sleep.Still.Peace so sweet.

adelaide's got nothing on me april 27,2005

lovesong
sweet
breath
of life
crooning
echos
drifting
and still
my heart
beats perfect
time to you.

leftovers april 27,2005

left
over baked
potatoes
diced
delicious
look foward
left over
promises
validations
pats on the
proverbial
head slayed
by shortcomings
fat upper arms
messy garages
years inability
to speak to
yawp barbarically
or otherwise
penny dreaming
small bite
size hope
bazooka joe
fortune cookies
"you will be fabulous"
roses and ball gown
tiny petite pocket
size running
dialogue to
noone grand
looming soliloquys
to toyota siennas
black horse pikes
black top
black heart
black eyes that
see right
through you.
picking at cracked
lips and inept.
profoundly.
forgotten and frankly
i am tired of all of this crap.
of coming up honorable barely
mentioned and green ribbon
good enough.hollow.bats
in the belfry
bridgeton bermuda
triangle lost
and sold out to get
my heart broken
brittle and leveled
once,again.

GE april 27,2005

pulling
piling
on top
avalanche
suffocating
or at least
until i pass out. i
m even noncommittal
in this.
tears fall
but only
from the left
eye the one
you cannot
see on your
side of the bed
solitude
among the snoring
with all of the
60 watts
accompaning
in the all
american boys
choir melody
harmony in unison
edison and ideas
we bring good things
to those who wait
and get it understand
wherever it falls
lands in the farmers field
and never grows
draw lines in the sand
trapped and lost
balls and playbooks
tiny little pencils
to jot down saddness
our eights and
mountains of epiphanies
symphonies a whim
he and i so far
apart in this queensize
headache feet
a shufflin tap
steps and two left
feet doc clad
in every other
color of the rainbow
(what else does a seventeen
year old do with her money)
somewhere over and above
all expectations
pennies in the fountain
at the echelon mall
rats and high hopes
writer's college
writer's circles
writer's block
tugging and nervous
supping with the big
wigs and craig said
he could really see
greatness and chap books
hiding and scared
off and defeated
by bad boys and body fat
lifetimes of tomorrows
starve and shed a few and
then all will be well
with my soul
my constitution
besides we are
out of egg whites
and browns segregated
from basic understanding
polar opposite
of your first
inclination and eachother
in this sunni
triangle this heat
stroke and stroked egos
and man,am i ever over
dressed to the hilt
halmark cards and x
o did't you know how
it reaches me in
my high tower
how it crashes
the self imposed prison
in pieces
dumb letters full of
wonderful mush and girly things
pooh stickers and why didn't you ever send me....
peace and sunsets and home
on the far range of feelings
feeling cold and empty and
alone still
afteralltheseyears.
see me.stop.
find me.stop.
s.o.s. stop.



Read more: http://www.myspace.com/thorduspmaxwell/blog?page=54#ixzz11RUxqg2b

precipitation april 27,2005

and the rain...
plays percussion...
we dance to her
mezmorizing bongo
beats and steady
the lights casts
shadows and we can
watch ourselves
sway as the room wraps
around and around
soundtrack fills
my soul and rythm
blues and hues
of amber and sage
something right
out of sundance
with cool camera
angles filtered
lense hazy and
thick doris
day glow makeup
wardrobe and hypnotic
refrain soaking
taking charge
directorial debut
award winning heart
warming the old place
up to it's intended
and we dance
and we cry at the
appropiate times
the rain plays us out and
inside i close
my eyes can't help it
the night and i
get acquainted.
and the rain...
plays percussion...

man,i dig that crazy beat.


Read more: http://www.myspace.com/thorduspmaxwell/blog?page=54#ixzz11RTgrGVs