Cue the Orchestra

I have a dream that I can't quite give up on,

A version of things that refuses to die.

I don't believe that perception is truth now,

There's so much behind all the blue in the sky. 

I hold the hope that the future is coming,

Better than now is just moments away,

I want a world that quivers with potential, 

A bow on the strings starting every day. 

Family Ties

We are tall 
and short, 

athletes and 
intellectuals, 

young in body or

at least,
at heart. 

We have blue 
green 
brown 
gray eyes

and rose-colored glasses. 

In my family

you don't have to choose.

You get the best
of both worlds, 

of all possible worlds:

pizza and pretzels, 

beer and wine, 

astrophysics and karaoke,

German lullabies
and Italian vacations.

A Year of Mondays

I've lived a year of Mondays, love 

since last I saw your face.

I've counted sheep and seconds

on my journey from your grace.

I've cloaked myself in darkness

so your light could shine for me-

I've taken rogue thoughts prisoner,

and refused to set them free.

I've quieted the melodies that once

could make me dance;

each song is now a dagger,

and I just can't take the chance. 

My pillow is now empty and 

I dream of the mundane-

every night and every day,

each moment it's the same.

Logic won the battle, 

now the castle moat is dry,

and still I can't help throwing wishes

up to the dark sky. 

Better with Age

The lines on your forehead,

more canyon now than creek bed,

hold magic.

You are proof,

ever more convincing proof,

that the best things get better with age.

I am so thankful 

for the stories behind each gray hair, 

and the knowledge that 

our love is etched on us 

indelibly. 

The Sum of Some

Some scars last longer than others, my love-

Some wounds last just for the night.

Some screams are louder than others, my dear-

And spur on the hearer to fight. 

Some dreams must haunt the poor dreamer, my sweet-

and color the daylight with ghosts,

Sometimes the things that define us, it seems,

Are ones we hope to forget most. 

Feed Me

In my family,

food and love are 

interchangeable.

Our love is twisted into pretzels,

tossed into salad bowls,

fried, crispy like bacon.

It is sticky, sometimes,

leaving behind bits of love 

in the caramelled rolls 

and homemade taffy. 

In my family,

you are never alone,

which means you always have someone to cook for-

you always have someone to love. 

Life's a Beach

I dream of beaches, 

of some distant place,

the sun and a smile 

alighting my face.

The ocean air heavy,

a fragrant perfume;

the call of the waves,

whether midnight or noon.

The sand in my toes, 

in my fingers and hair,

But best of all, darling, 

we both would be there. 

Keep

Keep looking, my darling, and someday there'll be

The sight you've been wishing and waiting to see.

Keep asking, my sweetheart, and you will receive 

The love you deserve and the faith to believe.

Keep searching, beloved, for someday you'll find

A home for your soul and some peace for your mind.

Keep waiting, my dear one, though time, it drags on.

A love that is true is a love that is strong.

Unseemly

Some lives are longer than others, it seems,

some nightmares are bound to come true.

Some cuts are deeper than others, it seems,

And all hearts pound hard for the truth.

Some pains last longer than others, it seems

And some serve to show you a fact;

Some names are screamed as you're sleeping, it seems

Your whole being keeps reaching back.

Some hearts are tied tight to others, it seems

Strings leave no visible proof

Some parts of me cannot function, it seems

If they are somehow absent you.

Reader Response

Analyzing poetry
is all I ever do, 

picked apart,

then reassembled:

spit it back at you.

Metaphors are piled up
in dark forgotten corners,

waiting for the cause of death:

poetess as coroner.

See, I can read between the lines,

read things you never meant-

your intention matters
not as much as 

my own bent.

I read myself in every phrase-

each stanza bares my soul,

I see me in every rhyme-

Wasn't that your goal?

Failed Revolution

The revolution's failed us, 

let's drop our bloodied hands.

We thought we fought for freedom but 

we fought our fellow man.

Neither of us blameless,

Both sides have left their scars,

So let's lay down our weapons since

They haven't got us far. 

Sometimes

Sometimes I struggle to breathe on my own;

my lungs, they scream silent your name.

Sometimes I see your face when I'm alone,

In a crowd it is often the same. 

Sometimes a bar of some song that I hear

can send my thoughts flying to you,

Sometimes I think you can feel my heart beat

But my darling, I know it's not true. 

Sometimes my arms ache for you in their grasp,

To feel like they're doing their part,

Sometimes I know that my fate has been sealed:

To live with an incomplete heart. 

Paint Stains

The fact of the matter?

My shame left a splatter- 

And red turns so quickly to black.

Black's all that I'm seeing

All the critics agreeing-

The best side of my canvas?

Its back.

A Promise to My Daughter

There will come a day-

a time-

a moment-

when I am not enough. 

When the warmth of my hand and

the hush of my voice and

the gentle sway of my body

will fail to hold back the tidal waves of sorrow.

If this is that day-
that time-

if these are those moments-

then take comfort in this:

there is no pain that you will ever feel

that I will not suffer alongside you. 

Cry, yes,

weep, my darling one

drench the world in your heartbreak,

but take solace in this:

You will never be alone. 

The Student

Maybe you are teaching me

as I am teaching you. 

Patience stretches seconds into years,

and we are far too young to wait our turns. 

We are the ponytails with tendrils running free- 

the pants worn under dresses. 

We eat cold dough rather than wait for warm cookies,

but of course we eat those too. 

The chocolate on your face matches mine,

and I laugh as I watch my words skip out of your perfect mouth.