cognitive flame

the enigma.

enigma,
she is enigma.
she is secret language and supression,
she is cipher and discrete deception.
she is code.
she is solution.
enigma,
she is enigma.

...

fingerprints burn into my waist
as we waste our precious moments
plucking petals from this vine
love me not
love me not
love me not
tale as old as time.

message driven home.

to those who want to let go.

nothing?
what about starlight and twilight?
what about first snowflakes falling and tumbling in winter?
what about steam snaking through dusky subway labyrinths?
what about delicate girls twirling, dancing, dreaming of becoming ballerinas?
what about sticky cotton candy fingers scraping through?
what about velcro shoes, temporary tattoos, matchbox cars?
nothing?
what about possibility?
what about chance,change,revolution.freedom?
what about the beatles, james taylor, tom petty?
what about broken promises with crossed fingers?
what about chocolatefrostedtriplelayeredmarbledfudgebrowniebatter?
what about do-you-like-me-check-yes-or-no?
nothing?
what about flowered flipflops in the showers?
what about passions and dreams and fears and symphonies?
what about best velvet dresses for grandmother's christmas?
what about ixnay on the ashtray and rotisserie chicken?
what about lightning and katydid thunder in summer evenings?
nothing?

what about me?
what about me?
what about me?

what about me.

nothing?

new path.

a cognitive flame
burns insides.
burns away that melancholy madness.
burns away wasted time and optimism.
(isn't it contagious
the way fingertips dance?)
grey matter in blue fire,
motor cortex melting,
collapse and dissemble.
frontal, occipital..
amygdala, hippocampus...
engulfed. encased. enveloped in
flames.

lisa.

woman opened eyes at 9:06am
when she told about mother's
addiction to heroin and buying drugs
before paying cheap motel rent.

woman opened eyes at 9:17am
when she told about not finding
real dad until age 14 when
grandmother finally revealed him.

woman opened eyes at 9:24am
when she told about riding in the car
while mother tripped acid
and telephone poles were yelling.

woman opened eyes at 9:32am
when she told about being
beaten as a child and repressing
all memories before 5th grade.

woman opened eyes at 9:39am
when she talked over classic rock
to share secrets of love, loss, life, and
somehow surviving it all.

woman opened eyes forever.

lost in the midst.

house cleaning.

bleach soaked
white washed
linoleum floor

cookie crumb
dust bunny
tumbleweed floor

mop bucket
dust pan
painstaking floor

spotless
lifeless
joyless floor

upon waking.

dream,
she said on a fatal friday morning.
dream lilies and magnolia blossoms.
dream ivory.  dream crimson.
dream sapphire,fuschia,aqua,&jade.
dream down feather comforters and
rotten crab apples scattered on pavement.
dream bradford pear tree blizzards.
dream gentle summer breezes and
fragile concentric rings growing in ponds.
dream royal walnut moth and praying mantis.
dream fireflies.
dream coconutkiwistrawberryshortcake
banananutbread&blackberriespickedonacountryroad.
dream yosemite campsite starlight.
dream little girl's fluffy pink tutu.
dream calls of bob-o-whites and
sweet balads drifting through the evening.
dream uninhabited rocking chairs.
dream this sparkle in my eye.
dream my smile.
dream my laughter.
dream.
dream,
she said.
dreamofme.

summer stone.

skipping stone across still waters
shatters peace and skims the suface
sinking deeper, deeper, deeper
deeper down to where light dims
and desperate hopeless grasp for hope
but skip a beat
and skip a breath
and skip the chance to take a chance
on summer haze and gentle days
and starlight gazing after dusk

wilted (w. 08.01.02)

Wilted
like a flower
held too long
Like a small, frail petal
like a mushy pop song
Broken
like a snapped string
over twenty frets
Like a shadeless crayon
Like losing bets
Gone
Like a perfect night
of dreams
Like a solemn guitar melody
and
A fresh, wonderful rose
that never seems
too
Wilted

bryan's recipe.

instant words.
mix with oil, eggs, and water,
bake for 15 min. @ 350
or until a toothpick comes out clean.
let cool.
serves 20.
instant words.
bitter,
sour,
tart.
cynical chef serves up
instant tears.

broken

you promise--


but you don't
and you didn't
and you wouldn't
and you won't.

shattered promises slept soundly at night
while scorpions stung eyelids...
i couldn't look out windows when i woke...

the sky plumits toward the bedroom,
our children giggle under burned out streetlights,
and i find noone else to blame--

i promise.

parting

child&woman
cuddling in chair, and
bluestarlighteyes sparkle at dull brown
as fingertips dance through brilliant minds...

though child be gentle
though child be strong
though child be brightness,focus,kindness,
laughter&carefreebubblegumkellyclarksonpopsongs.
though child be comfort
though child be shelter
though child be excitement,attachment,
laughter&carefreebubblegumkellyclarksonpopsongs.
though child be refreshing
and hopeful
and forgiving
naiveinnocentyoungyoungyoung...

child is child.
woman is woman.
sister is friend.
story is over.