Tag Archives: healing

Calling The Name of the Stars

Daisie is asleep upstairs on the couch,
wrapped in the pale blue, flowery comforter,
hopefully dreaming of beautiful things
beyond this broken world.
I try to put into to words, tools so
obtuse and transitory, the feelings
I have for her, my closest friend,
and the solace we’ve carved out here.
Head stills swims from the wine we shared
as we sat on the roof, calling the names of
the stars, and talking about all that was
going to come to be, hoping we’ve escaped pain.
Morning comes, and I give her that soft
and swallowing comforter, the biggest, fluffiest
pillow, and tell her to sleep well, to dream well,
as the sun came up, and we had no where to be.
In the downstairs room, my little office for writing
and her treasure and knick knacks to come today
for her bedroom on the third floor, with the window
that welcomes the sun every morning.
Been through hell, been swallowed by the beast,
but we’ve put miles and distance between those days,
and time, and we’ve found a solace in this house,
on a quiet street, and in each other, true and sacred friends.
May our world begin again. May we be wild children again.

Gentle Monster

The thunder of the music in her ears.

As it roars her head finally, finally clears.

She’s come so far. She’s come so far.

Still playing her favorite teal guitar.

Dark of the club, not even a light show.

If she were to cry, the cheering wouldn’t know.

No longer smoke filled places, like in her youth.

Even if he was here, they wouldn’t sneak a smoke on the roof.

The crashed car. The headlight pointing to the black air.

Crying, wiping the blood from his face with her long hair.

The black stained red, a veil that he passed through.

“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me! Our world isn’t through!”

And the music is a lulling dragon whose fire is cool.

In it’s teeth the peace of her voice can finally rule.

His ashes and his grave spun into a melancholy thread.

If she still loves him, still feels him near, he isn’t dead.

And the ringing in her ears, the thumping in her breast,

this gentle monster still the exorcist that soothes the best.

And still her teal guitar, that she bought when he bought his own,

still bright in this dark place, still the devoted weight, tender millstone.

The Sky Was Blue and She Smiled

Sitting in the meadow, first of spring,

Heart raw and bleeding, but healing.

All that had happened, all that had been done,

All she had done, was like the weight on Atlas.


It was warm, the wind gentle, tender.

The sky was blue, and she smiled,

Thinking of something happy from childhood,

A good time shared by her and her mother.


Fighting back to the light, after it all,

Back in the forest that had been her Eden with teeth,

Demons and mermaids and spirits abounding, calling out;

She heard the whispers of the wild, lonely little girl she had been.


In between dreams and the sun, as she walked on dusty light,

The Unicorn came from the Dark Forest, and knew the good

That was reeling and bleeding and calling out,

And The Unicorn came and laid its head in her lap.


And whatever came now, the light would shine, the light would shine.


Ice cream blonde, hair bright, a silken halo falling down
over her American Flag bikini top.
She laughs and smiles like a child, writing her name in the dark
with the burning sparkler.
Even know, after it all, she laughs and smiles like a child, so free,
in this sweet moment.
Fourth of July and the sky explodes in color and fire and smoke,
and her halo shines back it’s light.
Independence Day, maybe we’ll be independent of the past,
of mistakes and the things that hurt us.
Declare we are one now, again, and the sweetness will come.
Maybe we’ll make love…
…….really make love, with tenderness and hope and softness,
and actually grow close in a touch.
The sparkler reaches it’s end, and she exclaims, asks for another,
to write her name in the dark again
where it will last and be eternal and kept and cherished by all.
Let this be Independence Day.