For Eden

I remember my first crush
he was 5 foot 4 with feet fitted in black reeboks
with the pump
he had a braid that hung between his shoulder blades
that seemed to sprout from the back of his neck
because the rest of his hair was short
We'd walk home from the bus stop together
and the paved path proved to be laced with angel's wings
because those 7 1/2 minutes before we got to his house
would make my shaky palms sweat
and my stomach twitch to almost the same sensation that sent kids home from school sick
He was the kind of kid who would save you that seat on the busride
in the morning
the one in the back where bumps would bounce you airborn
and he had my heart
wrapped in teenage mutant ninja turtles
we couldnt afford action figures
so we made the action ourselves
He taught me profoundly like how girls have a vagina
and boys have muscles
but he also got my mouth washed out with Ivory soap
for teaching me profanity
who knew "fuck" was a word only for adults?
He would beat box and do the robot
he has a skateboard when it was hip-hop
we used to trade garbage pale kids collector cards
and climb across the top of the monkey bars
just to prove we were above everyone else
it was that kind of love that would wait up for me when riding out huffies
round town with the queen of hearts in the spokes to make that fitfitfit sound
I would save him the last bit of my lime green freeze pop
because it his favorite part was the juice at the bottom
It was mine too, but love is selfless
It was that kind of love before you've been hurt
so you know your feelings are real
and you give without expectation
and you live without reservation
you didn't need to hold back
because you had no idea what pain felt like
at 9 years old I loved better than I do now
because there was nothing to compare it to
except riding our backs down a hill so fast with no hands or feet
hearing the whistle of the wind rush over our ears
stretching our arms out and getting a green ligh at the bottom
so we could just keep going

Spring is Solid

Winter just wasn't my season and I'm hoping that soon I'll see life again
Everything has been dead
My heart no longer beats as fast
maybe two beats a breadth and sometimes I'm holding it
waiting for the world to unthaw
bring blood to my veins
and warmth to my core
I miss the smell of cotton sheets drying on the line
the way the road smells after the rain.. kind of like asphalt and worms
the cool green grass creeping between toes
and always having a flower to wish on
inhaling as much warm breeze to blow the pieces apart from the stem
what are the names of those flowers again? I just call them wishes
and this is no longer a poem
not that it ever was one
it's a pleasant pleading with mother nature to open her arms to sunlight again
to embrace the blessing of springtime
giving life to love time
why does the winter always make me feel unloved?
the snows heavy coat clogs my throat from breathing icicles into my esophogus
and I wonder if she'll listen
Mother I'm begging
bring me scents of springtime wrapped in blankets of summer
cusping on warm and hot nights where blankets are not needed
and fans run up your electricity bill
I'm tired of being cold

Kindegarten

When I was a kid entering kindergarten I refused to get on the school bus the first day of school. My morning began with my mother dragging me kicking and screaming into the principals office where she shut the door as she exited. I saw my mother's back for the first time I remember and I think since then I've had a real problem with people leaving me. Maybe it's true, it's all about what happens in your childhood that determines your personality and the decisions you make when you get older.
Sometimes I cry myself to swollen eyelids and heaving chests
because I know one day it will be just me,
alone with fingers intwined like knots on tree trunks
Sometimes I can really picture what it will be like
this portait behind glass of a life I once lived
And it's all about growing up and moving on
but my feet are tired now whitered as watercolors wash over
restless raindrops wiping away a vision
me 65 76 89 years old and alone because I once saw my mothers back turn
and I can't blame her she needed me to learn
and her back has been strong through the years
thick skinned like the bark nestling my tree trunk fingers

green leaves

I have to admit, I read E's blog today and it got me thinkin as I was sittin here rewriting my resume and lookin for places to apply and I realize only one is in NY. I've spent years trying to nurture these roots thinking that it was the only way for my buds to blossom I wanted to grow this tree with arms reaching out every which way, but as the days go on and the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide is less and less between me and my branches it only leaves me wondering when Im going to have to cut it down. Sometimes its stifling like unable to breath stifling like holding my breath hoping not to say the wrong thing or catch them on a bad day. And I wasnt always an angel and I dont think they believe in heaven so that was never a concern.. I am the youngest of three the one that gave them the most trouble and sleepless nights.. the one that drove my mother to hating her daughter.. the one who wants to leave and feels guilty but its not as bad as it all sounds.. maybe I'm just more needy or maybe Im just 24 and need to need something different but I cant for the life of me figure out how not to feel guilty about wanting to see more. My family these roots that dug deep in the earth to keep me from toppling over soooo many times and maybe it has nothing to do with them and Im just being selfish... 24 and Im worried about what my mom will say and how my dad will look at me and sigh the way he does when he's disappointed in me. Ive sunk my roots into their veins just hoping to be embedded in them I think it's time for a transplant to new soil.