Poems

"Twenty-One"

Being twenty-one
Spending twenty-one years under eight thousand suns

Sometimes life is
Being stuck behind a woman, old and sour
Persistently driving twenty-one miles an hour

Sometimes it's
My heart assailed by an unfamiliar breeze
Frigidly, frozenly twenty-one degrees

Sometimes
Twenty-one piercing stars in as many skies
Gazing downward, twenty-one hopeful eyes

Twenty-one pounds over my ideal weight is all that I am
I've heard that when you die, you instantly lose twenty-one grams
It's not enough

I wasn't born with twenty-one toes
An extra eye, a Pinocchio nose
What distinguishes me?

I've awaited a soul mate twenty-one long years
Patiently, mostly quietly, though now it appears
Maybe all this waiting doesn't really pay
My last relationship was less than twenty-one days

Sometimes soaring
Sometimes less
Sometimes falling
My twenty-first mess

I thought for once I'd made up my mind
Until I changed it twenty-one times

Trying to figure out how it's supposed to be
Caught between twenty-one hours of labor
And a twenty-one word eulogy
They say that how I spend my dash is up to me

I returned suddenly from a twenty-one hour drive
To find that I'm twenty-one and, in fact, alive

Stumbling over all that I think I'm supposed to do
Around the corner waits a cackling twenty-two


"Machine"

Two feet, planted firmly on a hill of sand
Platforms supporting a fearsome pillar
Two legs, unmoving and yet infinitely flexible
Pulsing with vitality and power
A torso stacked with muscle, made for bending
together, gathering energy within, then stretching
out, extending, taking everything else with it
Chest well-rounded, smooth
Taut and fierce, a stabilizing center
Two arms like thick rubber bands
Snap-release!
One hand encased in well-worn leather
The other with fingers curled around the
ball, flexing, caressing, cradling with the
strongest claw
A neck thick, mighty, quick as a flash to
check the runner
Chiseled face, eyes deep-set, swirling with
color, harboring strength
The incredible machine sets in motion


"Restore"

Familiar branches caress with new leaves
Assail with chipped bark, busted wood
A purple/black face, green/gold eyes
Ears strained to fill with birdsong
Soft elixir of sunlight airbrushed against a bandaged soul
Which leaks false syrup and jagged eavesdrops from its rounded corners
It finds to dream was more difficult in January
And at this rejoices
Deliciously dangerous destinies, all embraced at oncec
By puzzled arms, prickly with new hair
That is sometimes still not there
O fair twilight! Cast thy blessed silk upon the cracked ground, seeking to restore inexperience!
Which is somehow possible
A six-wheeled sports car squeals off into the distance
Concealing any possibility of a meal for the healing of zeal
But the sun, the faithful orb of tomorrow
Climbs steadily aplace, knowing naught but that which is undeniable
And defies knowledge


"Contemporary"

A convoy of uncertains
Throwing forth their wares with undiminished innocence
And only a hint of shirked possibility
Feeling their way along, frozen yet fluid, ever dreaming forward
Smelling reception along the air
When out of nowhere, or maybe not so much, a fallen favorless army of backslappers
Reveals the new rules
And all the people applaud
No room for pursuing variety
When all the customaries will do nicely
The world marches on, dawn to dusk, tied to one another by ropes of common submission
To a cracked understanding of how it is
How it should be
The dreamers scratch their heads, stage a desperate protest against the communist culture
But are swiftly defeated by the holders of the keys
And shuffle home, doomed to die bitter, a shell of former hope
Or to enter the massive stream of humanity,
9-5, never to be heard from again


"Necessary Destiny"

A woman named Destiny knocked at my door
Claiming she held the answers to life and much more
I shooed her away with a pretentious scoff
"I've no time for your prophecies; bug off!"

The next thing I knew it all stopped making sense
My neck stiffend up and my back got real tense
I was in charge, not a constraint in sight
I was the difference between darkness and light

I sat for awhile and pondered my situation
Was this a question mark or perhaps an exclamation?
Now that I could control wherever life would take me
I could decide what and who would make me

Deciding to embrace the gift that I'd been given
I set out with a new resolve to do some real living
I laughed, I whistled, I sang, I danced
With energized gusto I took every chance

But sadly I found in the end it was wrong
I constantly worried if I'd sung the right song
Did I take the right road, did I make the right choice?
So I wished with all I had to hear Destiny's voice


"Quest"

I wished the ache would subside. The gravel crunched beneath my feet, tiny stone lives turning over as I walked. Such power thrust my feet forward, but I found no pleasure in it. No sound but wind in trees, lightly insisting that I listen harder, harder, until I heard what I sought. It came imperceptibly, though once I could hear it it came with such force I was nearly knocked to the ground. I continued on. Wisps of cloud, rose, violet, daffodil, swirled overhead. Lying on the ground, forgetting everything, I felt I was being stirred into a giant labyrinth of petals, to be forgotten myself. Thought of no more. Then again, that seemed my concurrent curse. Out here, with only a squirrel, three birds, a wasp family, to see who I was and what I'd come for, I was overwhelmed by the inhalation of no dependence. So tired of so many resting on my shoulders as if they were home, trusting in the strength of my bones, muscles, joints, organs, to carry their lack. When all along my own lack caused sufficient bruising. The sound came again, tantalizing my ears, dropping me to my knees. Perhaps here was my belonging. Here might well be home. I lifted my knee and brushed the little stone lives back to the ground. I had destroyed enough for one day. Peace remained elusive. I carried on. Lastly, the golden leaves of cycle's end fluttered to the floor, flogging me gently. If nothing else, the heavy sweet smell of burning autumn calmed me. Up ahead, the biggest stone, one I could not kill, beckoned serenely. I lay myself upon it and seemed to release at last. No certainties, but maybe because the touch of stone on stone was enough to eliminate both, and finally set me free to the air.

Song In My Head: "Healed" - Nichole Nordeman