A Carrie Retrospective

[champagne1982]

I Remember

Write me a memory,
he said. As if all my words
just pour freely into a bowl of once
befores, there to calm and reflect
each wished for and if-only
ever spoken or written inside
a book filled with tomorrows,
possiblilities and what-ifs.

What if I wrote a memory
and it was full of sorrow
and regret? Would
you say it's not too late
to make a happy-ever-after
out of should-have-would-haves?

Don't think it's all our fault
that weak in comfortable definites
we languish, mired in memories
we couldn't live for fear
of losing what little we regret.

I love you now and always
even though this memory
is only ink and happiness
is just a song we listen
to together.

 

[champagne1982]

Cooper

Coiled up in a circle of blacker than dark,
the stalker lies until you move, to slip
in a sinuous glide past your heels and nip
at your feet. He claims victory in a single bark
and wonders why we growl down at floppy
ears twisted around as he grows into teeth,
that replace those needlelike fangs he'd sheath
into your wrists, then soothe them with a sloppy
kiss. He yips in glee as his nibbles glean a shriek
of agony, then quick as lightning he darts away
out of sight. Beneath the chair the stalker lays
in wait, watching his prey and then he sweeps
out to grab the tempting toes of unwary passersby,
until sleep grabs his tail and he settles with a sigh.

 

[champagne1982]

Misplaced Malevolence

It's an appalling circumstance
I fear when something so mundane
can bring such wretched twists
of jealous pinches to my heart.

How I envy that intimate caress
and the liberties the touch takes
when dewy droplets land and roll
along your skin. It must be wrong

to burn in sullen misery at thoughts
of your body accepting heated
embraces as you're enfolded, held
by steamy touches. Grant me

your permission to want to turn
off that sultry seduction and pull
you, vigorous and damply curled
out of the tub and into a towel.

 

[champagne1982]

An Apology For My Crankiness (Sort Of)

I didn't mean to sound so terribly distressed
it's just that I'm stuck alone in bed and yes
I'm bored and tired of being in pain and restless
with my hair, no matter how I much I comb it, messed.
The only time I see another breathing, living thing
is when you all stop by my bed and quickly go again,
I know my sickroom isn't where you'd choose to remain
but I'm not sick you realize, I've simply got a broken wing.
It's not easy visiting me every day I know
I appreciate the thought behind you're coming by.
It must be disheartening to hear me moan and sigh.
I'm sorry. There's so much to whine about before you go
that my words spill out before I can stopper up the drain
and now you can spread the tale that indeed, I am insane

 

[champagne1982]

Nectar Of The Gods

yesterday we spoke of a fantastical
vision where hashish smoke curled
from mullah's hookahs and silk skirts
part with each step my dance spins
round the flow of hips and jewels
sparking off the torchlight gleam
to finger-cymbal clash and drum
slaps chase the bangles up my arms
while they pretend to be serpents
winding you in an embrace so wicked
your breath stops and I watch
sweet passion drip from your lips
as you bite exotic figs and taste
honeyed milk from a silk swathed
chalice few have sipped this ambrosia

 

[champagne1982]

Carried Away

Today I sing ecstatic notes above
the frozen swamp, frigid in the wind
they're carried on a swift Alberta
clipper away. Away to eastern
grassland bluffs above the oxbow
lakes that spread away. Away
with the sweeping jet stream
high above the sleeping meander
as it saunters into the sternly
granite face of sheild forests
bent with the wind away. Away
my voice shall carry into the austere
winter and wait for warmer winds
and sweeter rains to fall on cities
of the east and wash away. Away
in floods out to the sea and no ears
to hear that song I sing above it all.

 

[champagne1982]

Kiss Me

I could watch those deceptive
twitches of smiles that bait
the humane trap and lure
love closer to those enfolding
arms that pull the unwary desire
inside this darkened cage all night.

Don't stop that forever play
of light and shadow flowing across
the night red black of your mouth.

Murmured I love you's
enthrall your prey as I creep close
enough to touch those rounded
temptations other girls would call
your lips. I call them mine.

 

[champagne1982]

Reclaimation

I can follow the lines
drawn along this technicolor
map of skin and scar

a topographical contour
of swelling and folding
where flesh once lay flat
and smooth unmarred
plain and prairie gold

until the excavator
mined the uncut virgin
breast and peeled away
each layer until

my heart beat exposed
and ready to bear
the devastation only
God could wreak upon
a body and then ask

His work to stand
to walk the face
of Gaia restored

 

[champagne1982]

Fall In Love

Beneath a blanket of autumn waits
this sleeper for your welcomed
breeze to lift a corner and warm
the chilly dreamer ere she wakes.

Your touch seeks all those resting
secrets as they heal and stirs
remembered pleasure in the folds
and creases kept safe for your love.

Murmur words to rouse the wanton
up from the wounded flesh healed
finally to the point of welcoming
joy when held close in breezes

Heated by your kiss and fingers demanding
responsive whispers of pleasure aroused.

 

[champagne1982]

Son of a ...

That tumble down the steep
corn snow slope scared
the bejeezus outta me.

The rock jutting from a base
worn down by sun and skiers'
passage cruelly pointed headward.

Jacket riding up and leaving
torn flesh to writhe on spring
snow knives and burns on skin.

Yard sale on Lynx and slalom
around poles and skis savaged
off my limbs and left for sport.

He said I told you'd make it
to the flats and look, here you are,
bottoms up on the best of the day.

 

[champagne1982]

Unanswered

Know that I cry these mourning names
and feel the pain of knowing
innocence has passed; massacred
with tools of ignorance
and misunderstanding.

What motivates a man to choose
a ride to heaven on the wings
of angels slain by his sword
and burned at the altar
of Lies fed to God?

Is pleasure in death
more appealing
than joy in life?

 

[champagne1982]

Superficial

bellows expand and drag reluctant
breath inside to feed the fires
of white heat and pounding
hammers shape the scars I need
to keep on this cycle in and out
with blood and thoughts not deep
it hurts to cut beyond shallow
believe me I know.

 

[champagne1982]

Love is never having to say...

to deny the dead is to stop
the life that ends too soon
too soon to say I love you

all the regret that follows grief
brings bitter tears for words
never said I'm sorry

never stop to think that love
isn't welcomed out loud
just say it no, shout it every day

to pause in your apology
only brings a chance
you'll never understand

sorry isn't neccessary
as long as you tell me
I love you

 

[champagne1982]

Stones

the cascade floods over sharpened
cornices and pours wet wonder
through a landscape changed forever
altered but not damaged

stand under this relentless flow
and feel the power of the weight
as it presses against the escarpment
engaging gravity with its graffiti

unyeilding granite scoffs at the water
and thrusts up proud and sturdy
until the ground it's planted in decays
and the pillar tumbles, undermined

but what a defiant life spent held firm
against the constant pull of nature
as it begs you to take the popular way
and tumble over the edge with me

 

[champagne1982]

Reop

I look at it with a jaded mein
and wonder at the optimistic bent
that shaped my life before failure
within the heart of me skewed
my view and altered how I'll see
the next six years.

There's this panic that keeps
surfacing each time I feel the edges
slip and hear the steady rhythm
inside my head that too soon
I'll be doing it all again. I wish
this fragile existence stops
breaking down and then go on.

 

[champagne1982]

mouth dance

pressed against your heart
as the notes slip around
me with your arms I stand
encircled in sensuous music

you nudge my hips into fluid
rolls with a seductive flex
of your thighs guide my dance
to the sultry lights inside

those warm walls surrounding
soft whorls of luxuriant bed
sheets and pillows I want
to fall upon and sink beneath

my lover's lips to thrill against
liquid tongue painting desire
upon my mouth to taste his need
and feel our greedy love

 

[champagne1982]

Cut Losses

I can't get up and drive
to whereever I want to go
it's an abiding frustration
of my wants this wait

waiting for the levity
as I simply walk out the door
without the questions
without company
good God, just stay at home
and leave me go out

I love my guardians
they are only wishing
me the best and comfort
as I recover

they're scared of loss
I am too, but I think
they're the larger
stake-holder in this

I'll lose my life

they'll lose me.

 

[champagne1982]

This is in response to a dare placed on me by one of our moderators. With much honour and reverse pride at stake, I could not refuse. Please, don't let this define the limits of my talent (whatever it may be) but instead, accept it for what it is... A truly shitty poem.

The Ugly Side Of Fairytales

Out in the misty boggy bottom land
there waits a sweet virgin with proffered hand
to stroke the horn of the beauteous beast
as he drools over the freshly laid feast

He stands strong and straight. His great head held high
in shadows dark beneath a grey lit sky,
with rude comment he turns on his sharp heel
and loudly critiques his previous meal

the flatulent spew of this horse's ass
leaves the maid green from the sulphuric gas
he lets rip through the dawn and birdie song.
Then he air wipes the snot dangling down long

and gelatinous from his Roman nose.
With patrician disdain he sniffs at the rose
bushes that litter this quiet clearing
and snorts at the maid who recoils, fearing

his unrestrained passing of body waste.
Much to her dismay, in spite of her haste
the ill-mannered stud lets go a hot stream
that lands on her lace hem to stink and steam.

With loud guffaws at her righteous disgust
he belches as he drops his foul shit just
in front of her toes. She squealed as she ran
to the side of the pond where she began

laughing hysterically at this odd day,
her precious innocence out on display
to entice this boor into the strong net
of her father who she hopes will now get

a fabulous price for the mystical horn
that grows out of the head of the unicorn.
Maybe tomorrow she'll pick him a rose
as he lay dying 'neath brilliant rainbows.

 

[champagne1982]

Dawn Oxygen

each breath awakes a throat
gulping and swallowing the moment
when brilliant fuchsia recalls
a sunrise memory of love admitted

realization dawns with a glance
at the cloud tinted with light
and refraction of a glorious
morning when oxygen makes me high

but every day is not a colourful
dawning rain and snow shed drab
duty soon transformed to gifts
given with eager performance

the mundane passing of comfortable
assurance that joy will always
be in reach tints the day in fuchsia
and makes each breath a drug for life

 

[champagne1982]

Mini's Mini

I've got my heart set
on a little silver-grey
bullet that will speed
me into tomorrow.

The Italian Job's
got nothin' on
this little Cooper.

Hush, and let me dream
of sinking into soft heated
leather bucket seats
at full cruise in overdrive.

A straight Alberta road
drags me to anywhere
but down. An adventure
on four wheels
a hundred and sixty-plus
horses
and a steering wheel.

They better not have sold
it to someone else.

 

[champagne1982]

Instructions To A Lover

don't change the way you press
against these curves and hollows

fragile only in the needy
way my skin leaps up toward
your fingers and quivers
like a horse's flank
beneath your delicate touch

don't stop those thieving kisses
as you steal my composure
and leave me gasping

you pluck my response
each pull on my emotions
teases that liquid flow
to tint my skin
until I glow

don't draw me tighter
it's time to caress
the rosin along the bow
and finally, crescendo

I concede you are the maestro
I am but a student
enthralled and captivated
held by bonds so secure
in the knowledge that patience
will be rewarded

 

[champagne1982]

Cleaning Day

Not an inch of space
without your presence,
here in the otherwise
drabby burrow of mind
and ideas. Shabby shreds
of curtains hang behind
the gorgeous armoire
of your strength.
Wallflowers faded into puce
contrast starkly against
the gleaming white
smiling into the shadows.
Corners, still with dust
ignored, until you polish
floorboards and lift rugs
to expose the quality
chique right here
at the heart of me.

 

[champagne1982]

Emotive

The single dust mote,
in itself, seems insignificant
but piled on others
just the same, becomes
a cloud that swallows
a sunbeam in shadow.

The lonely dissident
will use a voice that clashes
with the chorus until
the ear becomes
accustomed to the dissonance
and calls it harmony.

A tear drop weakens a dam
until it bursts and innundates
the bystander with opinion.

A fallen leaf soon overwhelms
the lawn until white
colours everything the same.

The smile that lifts the corners
of lips always tight
with disapproval brings
the sparkle of laughter from all
who look for change.

 

[champagne1982]

Thank God I'm Sentient

hackles raised against the anger
sensed and misinterpreted
stir the mind to release
andrenaline

stuttering heart and cold sweat
the hallmarks of emotion
as pale flesh rapidly cools
with each sloppy palpitation
in a body gone soft

imagined screams echo along
fantastic escape routes
woven through a landscape
of calculated trajectories

footsteps stumble along the path
until common sense asserts itself
and intellect wins over instinct

 

[champagne1982]

I'm Sorry

annoyance is often couched in harsh terms
and will sit high and uncomfortable
until offered the soft pillow
of apology and the plumping
of discretion

misunderstandings grow from a garden
that withers untilled and dry
until rain falls, softening
the earth enough that grass
crowds out the weeds
of discord

take the proffered hand
bring the cushion of tolerance
outside and smell the lush
lawn grown from seeds
of patience