Checkmate Is Too Solid A Word For What You Do To Me

it would be pathetic if it weren't so infuriatingly serious
the way you want to tether me so close to you
but freedom, my not-so-dearest, freedom!
only so far, of course, don't be silly
if I ran too far away
how would you find me again?
the yo-yo that gnawed through its own string
in a desperate attempt to forestall the ticking of the clock
I don't trust the watchmaker
his cogs are loaded dice
always rolling fours no matter how many times I rewind
shi shi shi shi
and when someone finally manages to roll me a six
that's when you know I'm in trouble
I can't breathe when your knight has trapped me with my own pawns
too many mixed klaxons in one sentence
cryostasis never seemed so scary to me
don't wait up for me, I might not come back
wait, where are you going?
I can't keep up with your complicated sleeping tricks
butterflying back and forth from me to them
I'm not your daisyflower for you to tear apart
hoping that in the process of tearing out my hair
you'll figure out if he loves me loves me not
alternatively praying for his sins and laughing in the face of danger
but making up your mind is overrated, I hear
so just try to relax your mind
leave your door open a crack
and if I see those sixes roll by again
you never loved me anyway.

Mirror Mirror Tell Me Do, I Hate Rhyming Just to Get an Answer Out of You

the golden light refracts through the window across the way
splintering into dying sunbeams on the rooftop
orbs of fire don't waste away like organisms of bone and breath
they go out with a big bang
leaving whole ecosystems in their wake
I watch the purest aurum ever mined
as it slipslides through the cracks in my blinders
setting my hair ablaze
peanut butter smoothness of my skin
daring you to taste it
I'm the sweetest cookie you ever did see
with the most elusive scent of champagne bubbles and raspberry chocolate
my bathtubs are constructed of lunar argentum
all the better to keep invictus in, my dear
molded feet show off my decadence
whole rooms swathed in maroon
but when I shed my regalia of cigarette smoke and eyeliner
as you can see
the celestial body is all that's left
eustephanus in the constellated sky
maybe then I can swim in the golden ripples of the molten star
let you savor the hollow of my neck
nipping at the rise in my collarbone
tell me what you see in me
oh philommedes make me in your image
and let us be like two doves
released in sacrifice to you.

--

The fourth NaNoWriMo poem. (Instead of writing a novel, I'm pushing myself to write a poem every day, because I'm primarily a poet and I refuse to be left out of a writing challenge!)

Nothing Ever Dies, It Just Waits to Reflame

so when the sky opens up to me I take it
swallowing the cirrus wisps like cream in my coffee
when the trees start molting and showing their pinfeather leaves
I rejoice, hoping that they won’t leave me with only red and orange to remember them by
when the ivy hisses petulantly around my limbs I welcome it
the deep green like a reminder of words not yet reclaimed
I can hope for something truer than this
but what could be truer than blueskies blue eyes?
my notes spill over into song somehow
witch hazel iridaceae to cushion your fall from disgrace
I trail their affections and affectations like linen through water
even if I still don’t believe in Ophelia’s willow tree
her river can wait forever
I am too busy performing subconscious cardiac surgery at a touch
go away, please, can’t you see
the world blooms richly for me today and I have no time for their professions and professors
Mnemosyne’s petals are behaving well today
and I can see the firetiger with peridot eyes up ahead.

For Sale: used copy of The Feminine Mystique, never read

I count the walls in my bitter plaster prison
each one more blindingly white than the next
a mouse ambling about in a maze with no cheese
but what can it do when you provide no alternative?
there is no singular being here now
she's been built into a robot, can't you tell?
her perfect cadence and bland smile belie her lack
at least a robot never gets bored
never turns desperately to the wall and screams
“let me out, let me out, for god's sake!”
never wishes for a gas oven to while away the time
maybe following the bell jar's example
fireflowers exploding in her mind
tongues of flame burned into her retinas when she closes her eyes
cook and clean and watch TV
do you not have anything more disposable?
but maybe he'll be here when he feels like it
shrugging off his coat with a shinyshimmer smile
I should wear pearls? perhaps?
no wait, he likes emeralds more
I shall adorn myself with shards of beer bottles
under the roar of the dishwasher and the laugh track
but I don't see what's so funny
stop laughing
stop crying!
look, there's a wallpaper now, see?
if you peel it off, there's a woman hiding behind it
she creeps and creeps and I can't get my hands on her
the oven's on, darling
what does archaic mean?

6:32 AM

it's not here any more
so snip snip goes the cord of reality
leaving me to drift
amongst the clouds and flying fish of dreamtime
and warm inviting showers
do nothing
still ensorcelled by pink frothy lace and vague celebrity
my mind traverses to strange new plots
like what do the people across the river do?
will I be missed?
what do they take home with them after work?
I can't concentrate
but still I am glued to my seat
the water on my skin unwilling to evaporate just yet
staring at the juxtaposition of my bookshelf and the floor
uninteresting but
my eyes couldn't be dragged away
don't feel like meeeee
and I couldn't tell you why
she smells like lemon tart
too sensuous to taste like it
dream dream dream they don't make sense
he's there waiting dreaming of a fantasy girl pressed up against him wearing a silken sheet flash
she's impatient slippery coy sly he's a voice on the phone
why why why doesn't this make sense?
money money I need it
but it's so mundane for my transcendental imaginings
everything echoes
mint green towel slipping off-kilter
but a knock on the door wakes me up again.

A Meeting Point of Shattered Glass and Weathered Stone

is it wrong of me to feel guilty?
downcast eyes and soul
and then I feel your touch on my chin
sturdy base to my glass figurine
there is no hesitation in your voice as you say
yes.
because you have nothing to feel guilty about.
I envy your sureness
the way you march through life
ordering your reality around you
unafraid
I was never so bold
anything I attained was through grace alone
and genetics, perhaps
our contradictory world would be surprised
how far a pretty face and a clever mind take you
flash of my smile opens doors
quip of my lips draws crowds
yet somehow you still surprise me
in all your firm gentleness
you surpass any potential I may have
your mere presence makes me aware of it
how I bleed at the simplest brush
my life story puddling at my feet for all to read
next to you with your hide of armor
I am pathetic
but you don't think so.
and there it is
I am a question mark
hesitating bendable unsure
and you've always been a full stop
sincere unyielding final.
you are the boy who
upon finding the broken transparent dancergirl
puts her in a place of honor
cushioned and cherished
and I
oh I
the lovely fragile frozen primadonna
missing a slippered foot and with chipped outstretched arms
I require delicate care that you give adoringly
nestled in your arms
as if all the world couldn't make me bleed now.

Pity turns to Fury turns to Resignation

leaving.
leaving.
lee-ving. or is it leeve-eeng?
ell ee ay vee eye en gee.
how long until it stops looking like a word to me?
it's a deceptively quick and easy verb
"to leave"
I leave, you leave, he/she/it leaves
I've used it for years
so why didn't anyone warn me?
how many people do I know have become aware of the wrench
in such a simple word?
two syllables.
is that all it takes to break your heart?
"I'm leaving"
and suddenly I've cut up your world
smiled at the pieces sadly
then just... left?
"done" is another one
but that word has more finality to it
like a period. "I'm done." full stop. clean break.
why couldn't I say that?
leaving feels so unfinished
as if I abandoned a child at a friend's house
"I'm leaving, but I'll be back, I promise"
like I could come back (I can't, I'm sorry, I know)
"leaving" you with all this hope and sadness
after we "shared" a life together
it wasn't really ours
it wasn't really me
you stole my feathered mantle in the first place
and I gave you my heart with time
time that you stole from me but that I never begrudged you
only one thing I asked
"faithful"
full of faith? were you? did you?
I don't think so
there were other jewels to be had
with unpronounceable names that mean nothing
but you "wanted" them
isn't that so you?
want want want want
never me, never special, never true
I was the star sapphire that you delighted in and then threw away
and I hurt
"hurt"
it's too simple
there's not enough to that word
but how else can I say it?
after I "hurt" I "wanted" too
fierce and uncaring
and I "had", so to speak
anything and everything
turns out the world lies down and parts for the sapphires
did you know that?
did you know anything?
you gave me back my stolen coat
then blamed me when I flew away
say it was my fault my choice my everything
but did you think that I would give up the celestial skies for mortality?
"leaving"
it always comes down to that, doesn't it?
who left first?
when?
why?
whowhowhowho
as if it mattered
leaving doesn't care
and now neither do I.