moving, eventually.

i am in the process of transcribing all of my poems to entries on my Odd Neighbor site, under the label poetry.

since i've already posted 4 of my poems there, i may as well move them all.

55th edit of "Father"

My father used to lift me up
onto a brick wall
that anchored our patio,
so I could watch silver beasts
slip shiny ribbon
miles away.

The sweep of his hand,
brought their bellies
overhead.
And he willed
that my little body stand,
against the beasts' roar.

For him
they made the wind
I breathed,
an explosion
I could not resist.

© 2002 Catnapping

Streetwalker (i really need help with this)

I walk
shivering
in the blue gauze,
by little yellow windows.
And I wonder
what bit of prose that would make
if I could just get it down on paper…

I slip
past the clean polish of
a single copper leaf,
clinging to wet bark,
and tuck away its metaphor
for later.

I stroll
through what used to be
the best part of my day.
Bending to watch..
the headlights play on broken glass
under my bare feet,
red always was my favorite colour.


© 2006 Catnapping

Haunting

It's been 4 years
and still I sleep with your ashes.
I hog the shroud
and i've stolen all your prayers.

Every night I tuck your rosary
under my pillow, along with
your pocketknife
and your last bar of irish spring.

I wear your socks,
your carhartts, and your dogtags
are tucked safely
inside my bra.

Any day now
the spirits will find you
an exorcist.
And you'll be rid of me.


© 2006 Catnapping

attempted rewrite of 'goodbye'...

I held him
pale and plump.
Skin like cold rubber
blue lips
on the verge
of a quiet smile.
Thick lashes resting
on dry cheeks
Ears deaf
to my prayers.

I counted his toes,
and looked
for all his old scars.

Then I covered his body
with crisp white cotton
and tucked it
under his bushy red beard,
hiding the hole
they put in his neck,
too late to save his life.

© 2003/2006 Catnapping