Lives Of The Saints

I'm actually pretty quiet.

Honest.

It's just my head keeps coming crashing down through the rest of me like a

Bowling ball down the front staircase;

And if that's not gauche enough,

It's got ma name on it.

It looks like

I won't get that part

In Swan Lake after all--

Never mind all the parts I was handed and spat upon

Cos I got no more manners

Than a pig at the State Fair.

My body has played dirty tricks

All my life,

But the better part of me

Floats like a lantern on a lily pad

Inside--

Just try getting in if I don't want you there.

The entrance is piled high with bones.

Last night I dreamt

That the hour was late

And I was far from home.

Well,

That's life.

I have my moments, though--

Mostly I flail

As if possessed by cats in a sack

And time is the river;

But in a moment of perfect bliss

When I am,

For example,

Egging my neighbor's mail box,

I am Athena with her bolts.

I am Artemis with her arrows.

I am hanging out with God at Danny's Coffee Shop,

And when the cops come in

Asking where have you been?

God vouches for me.

"She's been right here with me, boys," she tells them just as sweet as honey rolling off a warm biscuit,

And I whisper,

"Oh You

Are so cute

When You lie!"

_________

This poem is dedicated to Dulce and to Mama Zen. Danny's? Three-ish?

Wake Up Laughing

Did you ever wake up laughing?

I have,

But it's as rare as meeting someone you will love for the rest of your life

Or theirs,

And I've come into it just as unknowing.

One moment, asleep in the whispering of leaves, mind blank as a baby's,

And in the next, God has delivered the joke that explains it all,

And I wake up laughing.

Some things are effortlessly perfect--

Like a plate of scrambled eggs on a Sunday morning,

Tea on a wooden table outdoors in the afternoon,

Or the one you love beside you in the evening, reading with her glasses on, the ones she only wears at home;

And for some reason, that's as pleasing as anything you can think of.

I wonder sometimes,

Is it the rainy funerals that are the dream?

Is it the losses that tear one's heart like a paper ticket to nowhere

That are the illusion?

Will I one day close my eyes,

Oh,

Just for a moment,

Lost in the whispering of leaves,

Mind blank as a baby's,

And in the next, wake up laughing?

___________

(This poem is dedicated to my father. I hope he woke up laughing.)

The Disappointing Child

I did not go to no Bryn Mawr,

I did not attend no

U-ni-versity of Mich-i-gan,

I did not become no doctor

Cuttin' people open

Lookee, ya got your

Spleen,

Your pan-cree-ass,

And so forth;

I'd like to

Cut ya open and see

Maybe that girl that wasn't me

Is still in there

Screamin'

Lemme out

Got dammit,

I wanna marry a CEO and have his

Devil babies.

I know I dint

Be that boy ya wanted

Collect 'em all,

Cos everybody knows,

Girls are not as good

They tend to be

Short

And needy

And

Wtf can ya really do with one once ya got it?

I drive

A shit car

Just ta spite ya,

I carry the

Got dam mail

Right out in public for anybody to see,

And how can ya

Brag about that?

How can ya

One-up the neighbors

With shit like that?

No CEO's

No devil babies

No PT Cruiser no Escalade.

I wanna

Kiss another woman

While wearin' a name tag

That says I'm yours,

I wanna

Not cut the grass

Til the city makes me,

I wanna hurt you

Real bad

For not opening your eyes and seeing

Me,

Your got dam devil baby,

Who is an angel with words

If you'd only

Get the shit out of your ears,

Lookee here,

Ya got your

Daughter

Live and in person

Right in front of your nose,

Yours, whether you like it or not,

Heart on her sleeve,

The girl who would have just loved to love you

If you would only have ever

Given me the chance.

________

Welcome To The Twilight Zone

The almost shockingly hip Mama Zen has somehow divined my irresistible urge to complete this meme, and has sent it my way. She's mad cool, I've always said so. There are rules, however, and while I don't always get along very well with rules, I can obey the main one, here. Each answer to the following questions must be one word only.

So, welcome to a place where time and space become distorted, where the real and unreal converge. A place where Shay gives one-word answers. Here it comes, at that sign post up ahead...The Twilight Zone!

Where is your cell phone? nonexistent

Your hair? wet

Your mother? conventional

Your father? celestial

Your favorite food? cheese

Your dream last night? crowded

Your favorite drink? mocha

Your dream/goal? book

What room are you in? computer

Your hobby? reading

Your fear? intruders

Where do you want to be in six years? partnered

Where were you last night? home

Something that you aren't? conventional

Muffins? chocolate

Wish list item? VW

Where did you grow up? Snobville

Last thing you did? bath

What are you wearing? PJs

Your tv? off

Your pets? Bosco!

Friends? indispensable

Your life? good

Your mood? happy!

Missing someone? Beatrice

Vehicle? beater

Something you're not wearing? rock

Your favorite store? grocery

Your favorite color? red

When was the last time you laughed? tonight

Last time you cried? yesterday

Your best friend? Bosco! (what are ya, new? oops, I broke a rule.)

One place that I go over and over? bathroom

One person who emails me regularly? Kelli

Favorite place to eat? Outback

If you would enjoy doing this, please feel free to do so! :-)

XOX

Shay

Kitty, Kitty

I am quiet,

Like a feather falling--

As you drone on and on, oblivious.

I am soft

Like a toy.

But look!

I just won't stay on my shelf;

And who knows

Where I may have crept off to?

Shhh, shhh, shhh...

You need to stop talking now--

You've been careless.

See how far the lighted windows are behind you?

A woman I may allow

To scratch under my chin--

My eyes gone thin like crescent moons;

But you,

If you don't get a clue and stop chattering,

Saying, "I think this!"

And, "What you must understand is that..."

I will get up softly.

I will approach you quietly,

And wait.

Who knows

What one so soft, so quiet, so stealthy,

Might be thinking?

Still your foolish tongue and try to imagine

What she might be kind enough to teach you

If provoked.

__________

The Heretic

The trouble with loving gypsies

Is that gypsies always leave.

Oh Mama,

I have been leaving since the day I was born,

And yet I am not a gypsy--

Just a restless soul.

I stood in the fields

Trampled and red--

Put my hand to my shoulder

On the place that it bled...

I wish to be as brave and beautiful

As my horse draped blue and white,

But I am just a wanderer

And fodder for the fire.

I can tell by the way you're looking at me,

You've heard and you know

About the saints mysteriously whispering

Selectively and low.

I heard them

In her perfect voice so sweet,

As she told me

That I was, and I believed.

The trouble with loving gypsies

Is that gypsies always leave.

Oh Mama,

I have been leaving since the day I was born.

My dreams are all of gypsies,

But my life is endless war.

I wish to be as brave and beautiful

As pure and fierce desire,

But I am just beloved of God

And fodder for the fire.

_________

Photo: Evelyn Nesbit

Recuerde Esto

Tea leaves,

Tangled sheets...

You mustn't believe a word they say.

So you've poured your entire self into a passion again,

Right to the top...

As if you were something sparkling, and you are.

Just because the music ends,

Doesn't mean you shouldn't have danced.

Broken hearts and full ones

Both express themselves with tears,

And there's no shame in that;

No crime in taking a chance.

One day, maybe soon,

When the house lights dim and the red light's on,

You'll roll a hat down your arm and steal everybody's heart

Just as if you'd never let one fall;

Just as if you were something sparkling,

And you are.

__________

Photo: Stevie Nicks