ToThePoem - a place for poetry

The last one left. He walked out into traffic, Was hit by an oncoming  Life.  And anchored himself to the  Middle of the sea where He and his girl and their dog [And their dreams]  Tread water eternally.  I watched as he sank And gulped and sometimes A boat would come by and  He would put up his feet, Stretch his arms and Say, “This is the good life!” And his girl couldn’t sleep And he found dark, cooling holes to  Dip his head into  Each evening.  I stopped watching.  I crossed to the other side  And sat on a bench Tied my hands together, And observed passers-by. Solitude.  Beautiful rays of sun  Pressed through clouds Like red fingers massaging My skull.  And when I would relax,  They would seep down into  Me and grow wings And flutter around in my heart For hours at time.  I was never really alone.  In the depth of me These rays.  And even though  The sun was so frie

I’ve got your hand in my pocket And I hold it tight through Dull southern winters.  I dream about stepping through your snow.  I carry an umbrella for you, To shelter you [and me] from sharp criticism That falls like rain by those who  Don't understand you. Remember: I held your  Hand  when those airplanes hit.  I swam your contaminated waters Walked your gritty and diamond surfaces Scaled your ivory towers And slept in your bed.  I got to know you  And spoke with you in dim light,  Listened to your love stories and  Aching heart as we sat in the stench  Of subways and on benches.  I welcomed your lengthy arms, draped around me  As I navigated your streets. I left my mark on you  With paint and p hoto lenses  And you liked the way  The scrubbing of my brushes felt  On your skin And the way my flash lit up your flaws So beautifully. [I know you think of me too . Wondering where I’ve been.] I bicycled down 5th Ave To

For years I wore a paper Bag over my head. To cover my blue skin. They all said the same,  that I was immaculately covered: There was him And then he And him again. And him too.  Him. And him. And then I saw that one there.  And him. He. And finally,  Enough. Earlier in life, when we walked on all fours  This one came up behind me  And put me in a house  And said “This is as far As it goes, good one. Just keep that bag on.” And he groomed my brown paper And put me in frames And stuck me like gum to a fence post.  My heart dropped from my chest And my mind fell from an elevator  Shaft to the base of my spine And pooled there.  I kept reaching around Saying, “Come on up,  Come on up now.” I grew tired and Therefore Bipedal. And,  Once I was up on two feet,  And could see over the buildings There were these two dark eyes, Looking back at me. He had beautiful pale skin  and  Hands like waves