Poems G-K

Joey For Rent
Pre-quel to Matty For Sale

Run Dover Junkyard pony I want to run him over 'cause he's the only boy for me. He puts me in a state of strange dialation that's exactly where I want to be. As the screw tightens I want to kick him to the corner and set his spirit free. Joey for rent gives me chills with his cold shoulder leaving soon for California he's the only boy for me.

Illumination

Flash. Shine. Moving brightly. In honor of the iridescence which permeates the shell. Uncovering the mystery that lies within the core. Once in the shadows of my heart. Hidden. As you look into my eyes your frown doing a one-eighty I feel a ray of sudden hope because of your illumination.

Instant Messenger

Online, offline, who's going to talk with me today as I sit home, all alone... Hey! It's that boy from my science class asking about the test next Thursday and my girls all pop up in a row to tell me they saw so-and-so leaning over so-and-so at the Coke machine down by the gym after school today and my own Coke is making a ring on my dad's desk top wood so I better waipe it off.... 5 minutes away, and now they're getting antsy.. CYBERGYRL:Where are you?????? Katie13:Hello.....Hello.... CYBERGYRL:Are you still there?!?! I'm back! I'm back! Don't you worry! Here to write some more and read some more gossip! Who needs to be face to face in this day and age? The telephone? That's for my parents...they are SUCH DORKS!

He Likes the Feeling of One

"3,500 miles away. What would you change if you could?"---Counting Crows

"Got to get away from this girl gotta leave the country, leave the state." He likes the feeling of one. He likes freedom of being alone, all on his own without curling up in the back seat together smoking cigars as the rain falls down. If she had her way he would have stayed but there's no fighting a loss because it can never be the same.

Judging From the Monkey Wrench

Judging from the monkey wrench on the end of the work bench in the cellar, I'd have to say that this makeshift shanty is long overdue for some new pipes, new water-lines drains that wont clog, lights that wont flicker.... "I have the juice flow right from the wall, right from the wall mazes of wires, bah, all too complicated to me...." Walk away. Just walk away. A lazy sense of style he picked up from his older brother back in the summer of 1948. He was only tweleve, but saw the older boys drinking their beer, and telling their lies hanging out in the vacant siloh gutted by a fired before they were born. What is left could use a paint job but judging from the look on his face, I doubt anything will happen. Strange the way it seems to make national headlines through the grapevine of the ladies who perch on tip-toes over white picket fences. Not strange though, that he's happy in his bare-feet watching the cars and trucks go by then coming in after dark to fall asleep and start the same day all over again.

Ghosts

"And I'll miss you when you're slipping in between..."--Counting Crows

Ghosts all around me as I sit beneath this tree. Ghosts of you in autumn kissing, laughing, smiling, holding, wishing ghosts of you and me. Pine needles and soil erode here where we used to lay. Sinking in, I start to mourn remembering us keeping warm and how you couldnt stay. So I sit here, by myself while writing poetry. One is lonely, two is better even though you're gone forever I still have this tree.

Geometry

We learned Geometry, crazy as it was with all those angles-- subtract this, multiply that giving us the same thing that men have known for years. I remember coming in a few minutes after midnight by the digital clock-- stumbling through my bedroom door outside a while the headlights faded as you pulled away-- recalling it was time to go when fireflies play on ebony screen-door windows of you looking in. Briefly I thought I heard a million cheering voices but when I turned around they were gone-- the summer had nearly begun and yet you silently slipped away. "One more word" I screamed into the night and only felt a whisper left from your final breath-- still you taught me how to breathe again. On that account, I changed and lost the past of you-- because my death will never come and yours remains forever.

July Nights in Sunbury

The fireflies where I grew up were sacrificed under the moon to small children who painted glowing streaks upon their sunburned faces. Showing freckles and smiles when we were Indians with our luminescent cheeks and the smell of those lightning bugs under our fingernails kept in the humid summers night. The lucky ones flew into the side of the glass peanut butter jar with the label half removed. Oh, those were glorious days back when we were still impressed by insects!

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