Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Look What I Found...

The following was the first poem I ever had published. *sigh* It was waaay back in 2002. Enjoy, loves!


Who the hell do you think you are?
Good Question.
I am something, or possibly nothing …depending on who you ask.
I am a sister
In more than one sense of the word
I am a daughter
No matter what I say
I am a friend
A girlfriend
A best friend
But oh I am so much more.
I stand before the ocean,
And feel so small.
And I realize that there are,
Or might be,
100.000 other people who feel the same way.
But not all of them are standing before an ocean.

I look up at the sky at night
And ask the stars what they are up to
Well, no one else ever does.
And I know that Maria will call me from 400 miles northeast
And ask me if I saw that shooting star
And sometimes I can say,
“Yeah, I did”
And I know my nephew will call me from 500 miles southwest
And ask me if I saw the robin that was in his backyard yesterday.
And I tell him I did
Because I saw a robin today
And well, who knows?

“Lei non lo sa, ma penso di lei proprio ora”

And I realize that I am content just to be near you.
I like all your schemes and ideas.
Because I remember once holding out an empty hand.
And I remember when I was nothing more than
First mate of
Or cabin boy to
A shipwreck on the sea of Quiddity.

I am going to close the book now-
And then you turn off the set –
Give me the keys and let’s drive –
Let’s sit down in front of the ocean
Where you can quote Thoreau and I can reason like Whitman
“Ruminating of the frustrating dilemma of our existence…”
But OH!
There are still places in this world
I may have only seen in my dreams
Or in one of those 400 books that woman left me
Long before I could read.
I like books
The leather of the shell that protects
The slivers of the once proud sequoias
I don’t think the trees mind.
Rather killed for words than a paper towel.

What is writing?
Nothing more than a thousand useless letters on a paper
Formed and borrowed,
Pulled together,
Or pulled apart…
Maybe that’s why I enjoy it so.

I like the ocean.
I like the idea of the waves…
Where no one is in contol
I used to think that the waves were the earth
Waving to me to say Hi.
So I stood there…and listened to what it had to say.
A philosopher at age 6.

I saw a bird making a nest in a fallen tree
All I could think of was the irony.
I touch the pages of my notebook…
And think of what birds knew it first
Maybe that bird…
That bird with its home in a dead tree –
Maybe this isn’t its first
What kind of doomed existence?
Poor thing.

I am going down the ocean now.
Just so I can say hi
Maybe I’ll go at night
So I can talk to the stars too
I think they miss their 6 year-old Socratic friend.
Maybe I’ll go and tell them I’m still here.

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