my love is a candle-flame,
not a bonfire. it
won’t blaze up and burn us
both to ashes,
but slowly, steadily go
down its little wick
to keep us company
in the dark
until the wax is gone.
then hopefully
I’ll keep it safe
in a new candle
we’ve built
to receive it.
Tag: the struggle
the pillow book of Elizabeth the First
I.
the plants do not
abandon the earth
with the absence
of the sun. they
merely wait patiently
for the next season
to flourish again.
II.
as the second child
of a capricious father,
I learned from my mother’s fate
not to depend on the
kindness of kings.
six poems after Sarashina
I.
the hare knows better
than to fall in love
with the fox. why
don’t I have
the same instinct
for self-preservation?
II.
gray clouds, swollen and
dull with rain,
hoard their water.
just so my eyes
withhold their
sullen tears.
dudebros vs. misfit toys
in answer to your observation
about my hypocrisy – my
stating that I hate
most everyone, and do not
suffer boring fools
lightly, yet showing great
kindness and patience
in dealing with
difficult individuals –
I’ve figured out
the common thread.
a castle in the clouds
after a hard day’s
night spent adventuring
with friends, I debate
my next steps. should
I return to my castle
in the clouds, where
my cats and my solitude,
my leftovers and my air-conditioning,
my big bag of m&m’s,
and my familiar demon
sadness await? or
should I go to that basement
in the village where
a good number
of my friends are
probably still performing
at one of the mics?
fly vs. paper
am I the fly,
or the flypaper?
do I buzz around,
constantly annoying
everyone with my very
presence, or do I suck
certain people in
like glue and refuse
to let them go?
maybe it’s a little
from column A,
a little from
column B.
Janus & me
when you’re with me, I
feel it, that spark.
my mind is calmed
and my body is
present. our bodies
speak to each other
in their own language.
it’s just
when you’re not physically
here that I doubt
and make myself crazy
second-guessing – you,
me, both of us,
the whole thing.
I don’t mean
to be of two minds,
and therefore
have two faces.
I bet Janus
didn’t mean
to be that way
either.
cognitive dissonance
how is it that my wild, wily
heart can hold so many
conflicting feelings
at the same time,
and contradict itself
with every beat? riddle me
this:
I think of you and feel such a
fond tenderness for our
newness, the excitement of
life reborn, the elemental power
of green plants growing,
plants pollinating, trees bursting
with sap. but all this rapid,
rampant growth comes at a price.
old, dead plants and thoughts
and habits must be ripped up
by the roots, to make way for their
successors. that pain of
an old wound inadvertantly
reopened, one that I thought
fully healed, but now I see that
I only understood that time
in my parents’ life from
the outside looking in.
warriors
one man says he’ll fight for me.
he doesn’t care how many bodies
stand in his way. I must admit that
I think that’s hot. I admire
the fighting spirit
in a man, maybe because
if I ever had to fight, I’d probably
turn tail and run.
fall of the queen
my reign was brief;
I was a benevolent
ruler. my title was purely
decorative, and my balloon crown
popped halfway through
the second dance routine.
but I didn’t let it bother me –
I had a lovely time,
until my chariot arrived
to convey me home,
and gradually turned back
into a pumpkin drawn
by six white mice.
I was enraged and got
quite upset.
R. Brookes McKenzie 