Lost In Spaces
Do you ever get lost in spaces
Between yesterday and tomorrow
‘Twixt past and present?
Here and now, seems
Blended, framed like a bridge
Moving forward and backward at once
That thought I thought
Is now past and these words
Are now history
Once done, behind
Reach back to engage through
Memory only
Living happens in the spaces.
~SMK
Inspiration: Memory walks and current thoughts.
Un Chance
‘Ignore them’ she mouths silently…
Those little pains that settle around the heart, like arthritis in joints
Creaking a little when we try to stretch our heart towards something new
Something lighter and different than the past presented us
Ambivalence sets in like a sea fog, clearly we see for a moment
Then possibilities are obscured again by mists of former things
And we find ourselves straining for that clarity again
Voices of our own concoction whisper, oft positive for a fleeting moment
Swallowed up again by self-doubts and remembered pain
Off we skitter like tide-revealed fiddler crabs in retreat to our little holes
A soaring hawk captures our vision, Ah! to ride the currents with such grace and lack of fear
We ponder that freedom in the air beneath our feet
And stretch a bit more than comfortable in a brave moment
Always these choices remain ours, if we but embrace them
Soar or scurry away back to what is safe and sound and empty
Or trust in ourselves and others once again
‘Reach out’ she mouths silently…
~SMK
Inspiration: A road trip back to TN in the winter; the snow, the crisp air, the beauty there, time with friends. I always heal a little more each time I return to nature – even when I’m not aware that I’m in need of such.
Etchings
Would that I could have etched my affections into the stone chambers of your heart
But how long would that have taken me, bashing against that impervious surface
More than one lifetime, which is all that I have to give, and that just a shadow left of what I once had
Would that I could have etched my name to sit upon your lips like a savored and delicate morsel
Instead of it falling from them in frustration, once or twice,
The irritation echoing like sandpaper upon my soul with deep gritty lines causing me to flinch
Would that I could have etched my reflection upon your lids each night as your last vision before slumber
Instead I was forgotten before I was even fully formed in your sight
Dismissed, discarded, disdained like yesterday’s fast-food wrappings eddying in hot air beside the roadside
Instead I was an objet’d erotica and my affections bounced off of thickened skin, never penetrating the surface
Three lifetimes would not have pierced your granite passageways
Even if I’d had possession of that treasured map
Instead my name became a hated thing within your mouth, distasteful
Anger and vitriol poured forth from those hardened chambers
Even as I turned and walked away with gentle sadness
Instead I was a distorted reflection of all the things that others have done before me
Echoing through you like a fun house mirror gone into endless replication
Even as I revealed more I felt you withdraw deeper
Etching is not permanent, it can be abraded away if the surface is soft and malleable
Your etching has fallen off of me…
Mine never gained purchase on you.
~Inspiration: First failed attempt to learn to love after widowhood
SMK
The Impetuarian 