It's Ok Not to Want the Things You Don't Want

When you hear the squeaking hinge 

of the door of opportunity and feel

office walls are too close

to a cage for comfort--

Listen!

It's ok to push away 

aother plate

when you've enjoyed a meal, 

read the fine print and 

walk (or run!)

away from the deal. 

You can have enough.

It isn't only fear of the unknown 

that gets you--

it's the known stuff.

And you can just say "no."

You can just not want things.

You can just know

what you know. 

And your mind can't take you

where your heart

won't go.

Poltergeist

You glide through my mind

like a ghost, passing through 

my walls

and rearranging my

mental furniture. 

Orbs of light disturb the corners

of my thought 

and my dreams seem

to run strangely

hot and cold,

but there's nothing

tangible to hold.

I don't run from this haunting

in my brain--no.

I like to be in whatever place

I find you.

Secret Identity

 I learned no one would save me from myself

but me and decided

there was something I had to be,

and this would not be my

supervillain origin story--

but I still have a secret identity.

The feats of strength like

lifting the weight of my dreams

changed me. 

No cape, just a torch

the Statue of Liberty coul not rep.

And dropping it feels like arson.

With great power comes great--

etc.

But no one else has to know that.

My greatest enemy does, though,

and she has been 

burned.

Brown

 The hue of my second sunrise

is brown

like the coffee I try to drown

the last of night's 

half-remembered dreams in,

or the rich soil I plant

the seeds of my 

half-baked schemes in.

Like the darkest amber my

gadfly wings could

be trapped in?

No! Like the softest fur

my trembling soul

could be wrapped in.

If I could only start all my days

in the warm glowing dawn

of his gentle brown gaze.

Absence

 I have been stealing looks at you

but you have stolen my breath

every time--

let's call it even.

Flashes of your radience burn

bright against my shadows

leaving images

so real they stay with me

even in your absence.

I feel you on my shoulder like a bird;

your absence takes up space

with me.

It nearly speaks.

But all I hear is something

like a distant song,

and feel longing.

Smithing

 The key to my heart was lost--

so much had happened before.

It once was left in the door.

It once was kicked onto the floor.

It sat there for days;

no one bothered to pick it up.

it was jammed one time 

the wrong way

and twisted.

The last few times

the key seemed bent,

and my heart resisted.

At long last I went 

and changed the lock. 

It might be a nasty shock--

but next time--

I have learned,

the right to hold this key

will be earned.

The Pious Pilates

 Was his blood even cool

before you dipped in one accusing finger

to paint his character

assassin-red?

And did his self-sacrifice

say nothing to you

of anyone else

that ever bled?

You find the cross

convenient to wear

but watch a fallen man

saying it is

not yours to bear.

You have found your feet

to stand for a lie--

it is the same as

condemning a man to die,

not once,

 but twice.

frozen in death,

destroyed by ice.

You carry nails in your pockets

seeking candidates for Calvary

and wash your hands so publicly. 

Anathema. 

Anathema.

You never-whitened sepulchers,

let the blood stain you

forever.