Plumbing

Poetry for me

Is a plumber

Who arrives 

To clean out the clogs 

Dissolve sticky 

Residues 

Purge matted up

Hairy remnants

Of traumas past

Clear out the pipes

Of unresolved 

Issues 

Flush my drains 

Allowing the 

Clear water 

Of my mind  

To flow 

Singing in the car

Singing in the car

Always made him mad

He’d switch the station

Turn up the volume — 

Those angry asshats 

On WTAM

Always scowling, always hating, 

He’s just road raging 

Shutting down 

My light 

Helpless, helpless 

You don’t realize 

You’re a firefly in a jar— 

Given a few air holes 

Blind to the world 

Beyond the glass

Now the lid is off 

I’m flying

Singing Springsteen 

And CSN

Singing all the songs 

He hated

Carry on ‘cause 

Love is coming

And it’s a peaceful, easy feeling 

That won’t be wasted on the way

I left that town 

Of losers 

Windows down

Good bye to his 

Whining 

And to Air Supply and 10cc

I’m feeling strong— 

And I’m already gone

Jumping a little lighter 

Dancing in the dark

Logistics

 I’m noticing 

How many love songs

Talk about 

Logistics

I”ll climb the highest 

Mountain

I’ll walk 500 miles

I’ll swim the deepest

Ocean

I’ll travel to the ends

Of the Earth

Logistics, on paper

Does not sound

Romantic

Yet we can sure

Use it to profess

Depth of ardor

In real life

It’s not as sweet

Mountains are majestic

Stop lights and traffic are not

Seven seas are endless blue

Empty gas tanks hit different

500 miles is a hero’s journey

Is a commute just a chore?

Watching the clock on a weeknight 

Hoping all the sand does not run out.

Can I adjust

To driving 35 - 40 minutes

To see this guy

Or wait for him 

To see me

Will distance make

The heart grow fonder

Or will it just be a

Pain in the ass

Maybe this drive

Is worth it 

A chance to decompress

In transit

Work through the hassles

Of the day

Maybe his kisses

And the dinner I made

Warm hugs

And tender smiles

Maybe they

Are streetlights

Elevation markers

And navigational buoys

Perhaps he will be

My lighthouse

And I his

The infrastructure

Must be built

Before I reroute 

My heart

Right now

This is just a junction

An intersection

Schedule

To be determined

Sleeping Beauty

I think I read 

Sleeping beauty 

All wrong 

She was a metaphor

For a woman like me 

Whose life was 

In suspended animation 

By false expectations 

Of happily ever afters 

Maybe it was truly 

Because of a man

Who hoovered her energy

Stunted her joy 

Made her heart bleed 

But evil spells don’t 

Last forever 

Princes come

Only after she wakes up 

Shuts off that access

Realizes she is free 

Love comes, not

From a magic kiss 

It’s in the form of laughter 

Taking off shoes and 

Splashing in streams 

Chasing fireflies 

Turns out

No prince required 

Although they are nice

To have 

She just opened her eyes 

And saved 

Herself 

New wine skins

Can’t pour new wine 

Into old wine skins 

And boy, I don’t want

To try to contain you 

In patterns that didn’t work 

Old skins that don’t stretch

Fresh love 

Needs a fresh start 

I’m throwing out 

Past errors 

Old hurts 

Growth requires new 

Containers

New love 

Must be poured 

Into a new mindset 

So come 

Leave your old skins behind 

Let’s plant a new vine

Work this soil 

Together 

See if we can 

Press ourselves 

A sweet new wine 

Our hearts

Will stretch to hold 

What remains

When you realize

You were in love with

Potential

Not reality

The weight drops

The soul flies

The heart smiles 

No regret

Just deep respect 

For that heart 

That sees the best 

Even in those 

Who aren’t deserving

That optimism

Believing good 

Is possible

It’s your nature 

Don’t change 

Hey, now

No tears 

Not your fault 

That you know

Know well 

How to love 

You tested your 

Capacity, that’s all 

Now it’s been 

Measured

You’re open 

To receive 

Go on, bright light

Shine 

Shine and find 

That mirror 

Who shines back 

Substance

And safety, understanding 

Consistency beats 

Potential

Painting again

Seems like 

For the longest time

My palette knew no light

Blacks, grays

Burgundy 

Colors of the shadow 

A somber still life

The gray just made me sallow

The black? 

Well, it was like your heart 

The burgundy was the scabbing 

From a thousand pricks and hurts

What kind of muse 

Is disappointment?

Born from your depression 

Your deceit 

This was not the art 

My heart desired

Dried up 

Frozen brush 

Scratches on

A barren space 

So I threw back the curtains 

Saw the lies 

Tossed that ruined canvas 

In the trash

My easel is long overdue 

For a glow-up 

Throwing out the old

Filling the palette 

With what feels true

Yellow, orange, green 

And blue 

Have replaced 

Dark shades of you

Wild is the line of happy 

Creating shape

With possibilities

Broad strokes of yellow 

Ignite my joy 

My brush awash 

In orange and green

I come alive

And blue? Yes 

Now that’s the color 

Of his eyes