PART I
Jeff
I remember when I first met you.
You fluttered next to me like a baby swallow,
scared to leave his nest.
I hated it and saw nothing but trouble,
yet you stood persistent.
After I pushed you away so many times,
I ignored your shrugging shoulders and
careless hands in pockets and I
began to look into you.
Now I want you with me all the time.
But you had too much fun that you may
have thought was innocent and they take
you away from me and force you into a cage.
Horses
Simple and Strong.
Creature of Beauty to be
cared for and caressed.
To be God of this creature,
master the art of freeing its spirit,
Never breaking the spirit.
You are my God of horses.
I will ride with you as long
as the sun will kiss the
moon farewell and meet again.
Now a Friend?
Rugged leather hangs off of
my neck with the beads that
lay on my chest.
My eyelashes sigh as I try
not to die and leave like all
of the rest.
PART II
#8
I follow the crowd of
lost women and mangled
tattoos till I see the glass.
I search a row full of
men wearing the same blue
uniform and finally at the
end of the line, I see your
face searching for me.
Anxiously I walk to booth #8
where you sit smiling on
the other side of the wall.
All sounds of love and tears
are confused in my ears and
I am paralyze as you stare
at me with the same eyes
that I see every night in slumber.
Soon I realize what I've come
for so I fumble with a
dull orange telephone receiver but
as I am unable to touch you,
I find myself at a loss of words.
Mumbling soon comes out as 20 short
minutes come and go and as
I walked away from the glass,
I could hear your words,
I Love You,
as you had said them five seconds earlier.
My Love
My Love,
a million bars away.
I reach out to you my hand,
a folded envelope sealed with a tear
and you say you haven't felt it yet.
My love, the only thing you have left,
they take it and hide it away in a box
along with 20 dollars your mom sent
to help their Inmate Fund.
If they continue to hide my love from you,
I'll be watching.
The Guardian Angel.
PART III
Object Poem
That twinkly, little package is yet unused,
but it won't go away...
It just lingers at the bottom of his drawer,
anticipating when he can get me in the
uncontrolled position that he can say,
"I think we need this,"
reaches into his drawer,
opens his package,
gets the gift he's been waiting for,
the present I've wondered about all
my life, that I will open again
and again, knowing exactly what's inside
but too needful to turn back now...
Dear Mr. Boyfriend,
I stand with you and feel
so happy and I look at you
and get sick! You make
my life miserable! You are
the most important thing to
me yet you give me the urge
to commit suicide. I love you
and I want to kill you.
Aren't we beautiful now?
Another Letter
I got a letter yesterday,
prettied in pink envelope with heart stamp
from my x-boyfriend.
"Come back to me," he said in
red magic marker.
"I was never mean to you. I never
hit you," he lied.
Must've forgot the time
he hit me with a "whore!"
Or bashed me with a "bitch!"
Or when he pounded me with insecurity
and struck me with wrong accusations.
Oh, and he really hit me hard with
that $500 dollar phone bill from
Booneville Correctional Center.
He knocked me so far into the ground
I could only breathe dirt.
But I got up.
He never knew I could.
And to top that, I found love in
exciting conversations, trustful words,
kisses that came when I wanted them.
"Why don't you come back to me?"
he asked with honest curiosity.