Words.

Words I let words flow through me like the content of water. It trembles fast in my veins. I ache to hold it. Withered and drawn, the world remarks at how fragile it is, how vein. Tendrils of smoke rise up from the ashes of all that has been destroyed, in nothingness, in shame. Tenderly you wake, in the presence of the dawn, and I sleep in a world without war and shame. My mother is an alcoholic. I have shot an arrow of promise to the Lord, who wakes for me to slumber, and I dream and wake again and again. Hold onto this forgotteness that is a void, a rockstar of sorts, and the world willows in ashes that come through me, around me. I am here. I am not. Take all that is worth and leave me alone, far away into the dawn, and the willingness that comes forth into the great sky, and I feel things and I don’t. My mom likes dogs but I hate them. So soon it breaks.

War.

In the evening of my death, I am surrounded by war. Fallen angels, fallen heros, I know not what this is for. In the eve I do deplore, faith has fallen like an eagle. My mom buys another beagle. Where are you? The rivers that flow, and the seasons that come and go, take me fast or take me slow, I walk in time to what I don't know. In the end, I am not winding down, my mouth has been put into a frown, I look up left and then right, see the beauty of you tonight. Shadows fade and tides will end, you were gone, my faithful friend. All I have is what I lost, nothing is won at any cost. Take the world and let it dwell, into my mind where I can tell, all the worlds that we have known, into the land, our love has flown. Bridges fall, and people weep, in the night, you will sleep, take to heart, the day's apart, I will reside and not depart. All we found into the land, as our lover holds his hand, this land of mine I do not find, are given now a piece of mind. What is wrong is not right, I have not been gone tonight. All we fear is not clear, into the river, we hold dear. The world is black, and it's in ruin, I walk now upon the dune. The heart and mind will forever dwell, into the land, I cannot tell. Where we fall into the land, our heart will hold your hand, times have come and rivers run wild, laughing like a little child. In the seasons that we fear, everything has fallen near. Taken like the faithless night, here comes the light, here comes the light. You walk in fright. All the world where we go, no one has gone below. Into the heart where we can tell, the coming of night will listen well. Shadows fade back away, and gone I will forever stay. Night is mine and mine alone, I whisper lonely as a stone.

Hear.

I can hear with my own ears. I don't know what I am able. The dinner is on the table. I am harboring my own fears. Shadows come, and I am near death. Plenty of fish in the sea if you ask me. I cannot wait for rest. This is my destiny. My mother calls me on her cell phone. I answer her when in the living room. She tells me she is not at home, I wait for my impending doom. The lover comes to call her, she dances like a dance. In the room, I befall her, this is her only chance. I wait for her at dinnertime, and still she does not return. Sometimes I think of losing mine, but my heart will forever yearn. Tomorrow is near, and tomorrow is here, still no lover comes calling. This is the thing that I most fear, that I am forever falling. I hear you, I hear you, in the depth of the night. The call is not getting through, now hear comes the fading of the light.

Steady.

I am here then I am not. I am focused. My needs are met. Broken now, I am still as the bone that binds us, stiller than the death that surrounds us. Into the night, the nightingale sings, foreign like a sword. I have eaten my scones, and drank my tea, and watched the world go by outside my window. But I am glad. Glad I have a house with a window, glad I have food, glad I have found a way to live the life I have always wanted. Shadows fade outside on the grass. A grasshopper jumps very high. Lunacy. The day is coming and I have to get ready. Tomorrow will be worse, or better, depending, but still I have a roof over my head, still I have eyes that see and ears that hear, still my lover comes to me. In the depths of the dawn, breathlessness comes, and I am steady.

To See.

The shadows fall on the ground. The sun goes up and down. I am falling, gently falling, like I am a swimmer in the ocean. Sometimes I like to pick up shells at the beach. I am tethered to the sun, sometimes I wear glasses to make me go blind but I never do. In the night, when I am alone, I feel solitude and broken bones. Old faces, old voices stand up, rise up beyond my vision. Tomorrow I will see the sun, my lonely friend comes once again. Once in a full moon, really. She has dark spots on her face. I don't see this as an interface. I pout and run into the rain. It falls on my face. I can't see anymore.

THE BIRDS ARE CRYING

The birds are crying “Whoooo, whoooo, whooo,”

in the morning sunlight that sweeps the land at 5am,

a dapple of sun on the grass.

I am not shattered. I am whole. Like a dandelion

in the breeze, I rise and find myself enjoying

life more and more, by myself or with someone.

I know there are shadows in the morning, less

in the evening during summertime, and I play in

the kiddie pool with my four-year-old son,

I still tell him his daddy is off at war, and that he is

sick and dying, even though he cheated on me with

my third cousin and is now living with her in Las

Vegas, Nevada, near the Alien Highway.

I don’t know if there is such a thing as aliens,

or how they move through space, without a spaceship,

or with, and if they speak a language that is different

from our own, or maybe they just like writing like

me, I form a little “o” of words, my head nodding

in rhythm to the music, tonight I sleep and dream

of a man who is worthy of my love, worthy more

of my son, worthy of how we live.

It’s not what you say but how you say it,

and dive to the bottom of the ocean and come back up again,

and again, and again.

I MADE A HOME.

I Made a Home

I made a home for me and Bob.

He was an expert on garden Hoses.

He would get up early in the morning

and feed and water the horses,

while I was still asleep-I am thankful

for the time I get to spend with Bob,

he is adorable and faithful,

and he loves me. Bob and I met

at a local bar some time ago,

and he asked me out, liking how

I looked, with my flowing red hair

and billowing smile. Though I never

liked my smile, it was a bit redundant,

and I was a bit suspicious of him

at first, because no man had ever paid

any attention to me before-I was always

left at home with someone else's kiddos,

the baby-sitter and occasionally the

nanny. I wasn't the teacher's pet by

any means, and I loved where I was,

hoping and praying we would have

children.

SONGS PART 1.

Dirty

You got me dirty dirty

you got me hangin' tough

I wanna wanna

but I've had enough

I ain't got no money money

but I sure as hell ain't yo honey

You got me dirty dirty

but I've had enough

You lead me around the ring

but I'm hangin' my ground

I want this to be a relationship

that will last forever,

but you're sailing out on thin ice,

and you don't want to seem to forget her-

our love is what's paying the price

You got me dirty dirty

you got me hangin' tough

I know you wanna wanna

but I've had enough

(dirty dirty,

dirty, dirty, hangin' tough)

Live Without You

I'm wastin' my time with you,

I don't know what I'm doing this for,

I'd love to live without you,

our love is now the final score.

You used to only be a heart beat away-

now the dawn is coming, and

the sky has gone gray.

I don't know when you'll be back,

or if you were ever mine,

your love was one thing you lack,

and I'll get over it in time.

Take me away, away, away,

the skies will now fade,

a gentle light is coming,

remember all the time we have made.

I'm wastin' my time with you,

your love I don't deplore,

yesterday was over and through,

today I'm wanting more.

Take me away, away, away,

today I'm wanting more.

Waste of My Time

I waste my time away.

Shadows fade to yesterday.

I am torn of weeping willows.

The clock strikes another moment.

I am gone; broken like rinds of stone.

In my heart, I am alone.

The light has gone dim to yesterday,

Like the ides of March, and the eve of gray.

In the jungle of the lamb, the moods will sway,

And I hear the sound of silence all around me.

The ghosts talk to me, but I don’t say,

Whatever I believe, whatever I know.

Inside me, my faith will grow,

And the tides will ebb, and the water will flow.

LESSONS FROM A CAT: MY CAT SPOOKY.

LESSONS FROM A CAT: The Cat My Mom Calls “Spooky” by Apryl Fox

My mother had always had dogs except for when she was a little kid.

But after she moved, she decided to get a cat.

I told her I wanted a black cat. Now, a lot of people think black cats are bad luck and they are superstitious, but I like differences more than what is the same. My mother looked at all kinds of cats and finally we decided on a cat that we had found on craigslist. We contacted the owner and she sent us some pictures and we agreed that we wanted to pick up the cat. It was located in Lennon, MI, and we drove all the way there. It took about an hour to get there.

The black cat lived in a mobile home park. The owner said that the cat usually spent her days locked in a bedroom. She had adopted one of the other cats as one of her children, but otherwise, she kept to herself, sitting locked up in a room all day, eating and sleeping and getting older.

But we adopted her anyway and we put her in her cage and carried her to the car and put her in the back seat. I sat with her the whole ride home, peering into the cage and talking to her as if she were a real person so she wouldn’t be scared.

Now, on the web site, the owner had said the cat was two years old. But we had learned later on that the cat was actually three. I don’t know why the age was different, maybe the owner didn’t know what the age of the cat was, or maybe she forgot, or maybe she didn’t want to tell us the exact age of the cat. But I guess it didn’t really matter. We kept the cat and on the first day she didn’t want to do anything at all. The second day she didn’t want to do anything at all and she kept herself hidden away in the bathroom, behind the toilet. She was afraid. She wouldn’t come out and play. She wouldn’t eat.

So my mother took her to the vet and she got a shot and that was the end of that. After she got back home she started eating a little but she wouldn’t move very much. A cat is a lot like a person and some people cannot handle change. Some change can be hard on a person-or, uh, an animal.

After awhile we began to call the cat Spooky. She grew accustomed to seeing my mother and she even let herself be fed. Once she hid in the cupboard all day and my mother had to find a way to keep it shut. She even tried to get into the garbage, just like our old dog used to do. I don’t know why animals try to get into the garbage when they’ve already been fed, but okay. That was what my mother had to deal with the first couple of months.

Now she plays all the time and doesn’t sit in the bathroom all day. She has fun and likes treats and she likes to cuddle and get in the way. Much different from the cat we had met at the mobile home park so many months ago who was living in a bedroom and played very little. She was much different.

 So, you see, animals can change, just like people, it just takes time to get to know them and all their little quirks, and you will find out you like them after all.

I APPLIED.

I Applied

I applied at a college in New Hampshire

and was given a full scholarship.

My mom didn't want me to leave.

As I was packing, she told me about mules-

how they lived, what they did with their

downtime once school let out.

I didn't want to hear it but she kept talking.

She talked as if she couldn't stop,

then she broke into tears and hugged me,

hugged me close and whispered it was

the best thing for me, to venture out

into the unknown, to do things for

myself. She collected herself and left me

to do the packing on my own,

then on the day I was ready to go off to college,

everyone stood on the stoop to wave me goodbye,

not forever, just goodbye, as I start on my

journey towards adulthood, and boy

what an adulthood it was going to be.

I DIDN'T THINK I COULD DO.

I didn't think I could do what was supposed to be done,

clock into work and sit in the shadows for a half an hour,

then reemerge, like hanging from the rooftop singing,

in a half an hour I will be gone, I will be dead.

The shadows do nothing to comfort me but in my darkest

hours I am comforted by god and the uncomfortable

feeling on the back of my neck has drifted away into

oblivion, and I am here and I am there and I am everywhere,

I walk home in the pouring rain, everything looking sleek

and wet from the storm previous. It had stopped raining then.

I shake my umbrella dry at the door and go inside, then I

sit down in my chair and tap the desk, I tap the chair along with it,

this feeling of dark, dank coldness in my bones. I am resting now,

resting while sitting in a chair, resting in the darkest dark,

with no light on and the cat scurrying about somewhere, afraid

of the dark, hiding like I want to hide amidst the battle that is

my life, amiss the light that is not mine. I want to hide, but where?
Where is a good place to hide when your world is crashing around

you and there's nowhere to go, no place to turn to except down,

down into a dark tunnel that turns out to be a drug tunnel,

and you wish you could take the drugs but do not.  

THE DAY MY HOPE WAS RESTORED.

The Day My Hope Was Restored

The day my hope was restored was bittersweet.

I had nothing left to hold onto the night before,

I was sidestepping my thoughts and feelings

and I didn't care about anything else.

Then he showed up at my door, a priest,

with wavy brown hair and brown eyes and he

looked just like Tom Cruise except I didn't

know what Tom Cruise looked like because I

stopped watching tv thirty years ago.

My deadlines for my magazine are approaching

fast, and I didn't have any hope in me left,

I couldn't shake the fact that my magazine was going

nowhere,

and I didn't have anywhere to be.

The priest showed up, and he gave me a smile and

a wave, and pulled me aside and told me I was important

and I matter.

That was the day my hope was restored.

SEASIDE.

Seaside

Seaside seascape not what I wanted but I will wait.

Has to do with sitting or becoming something I didn't

want to have whether or not I liked it and what will

become of it. I am not whether or sure that this is the way

things should end up because I haven't been anywhere or

done anything. It's cold right now and I have the furnace

on and I'm curled up with a book and the dog is laying

at my feet, my old man is cooking stew on the stove.

It's a nice feeling, to be stuck inside in the wintertime

and then go out in the nice fresh air when the weatherman is

wrong and it's almost like summer in February and you

take pictures of your dog sleeping in your chair or go to

Farmer's Market and pick out tomatoes and potatoes

and whatever else you might want, like candy apples

and cinnamon muffins.

I found out yesterday I had cancer and now I want to

do everything there is to do in the world like have a bucket

list and do everything on the bucket list and have all the

fun I can hold.

WHAT I HAVE IS NOT WHAT I HAVE.

What I have is not what I have

when I have it and nothing is going-away.

I find myself wishing for something other

than what I have like a man and his baseball games

or drinking beer. I don't consider myself

an alcoholic but I like Jack Daniels and I like wine.

Wine is my favorite and sometimes I drink them

at parties which is a party wherever I go even

to the store there's a party because wine is there.

Wine is something I've been doing for a long time

and I can't get myself away from it or even how

and my mother was disappointed in me when I first

started drinking and the AA meetings weren't so bad

because there were cookies the kind that I like.

I Wish Grandma Had Lived Forever

I Wish Grandma Had Lived Forever

I find myself walking down the path that almost wasn't

there, a path that I have made myself.

I am going to my grandmother's snowy tombstone

on Christmas Eve, because she is my only last relative

I have left, everyone else has left me, even if they

are alive.

I find myself walking, contemplating about life,

really, and anything that has been thrown at me

these past years. I am thirteen going on fifty.

All these years I wandered, dark and lonely,

wishing on a star that wasn't there, wasn't present,

wasn't omnipotent.

I know I will never be content as I was when I was a child,

and we lost my pet turtle that one day, Danny, my brother,

hid him in a box and he had climbed out somehow,

or the box had fallen over and he had crawled away.

He apologized to me after the incident, saying he hadn't

expected that to happen, just like I expected Grandma

to live forever.

I'D LIKE TO FIND.

I'D LIKE TO FIND

I'd like to find my way in this place

of peace,

where darkness is not prominent,

and I can see my hand in front of my face.

Shadows are full and daunting.

I am not wanted here.

This world is not mine for the taking;

crows flock the land.

I see myself in ten years, on the verge

of life, on the verge of hysteria,

and I don't know what this is all about...

I don't know what I'm doing this for.

Is it for me? Is it for someone else?

Gladys the mule meets me every day after breakfast

from her stall in the backyard,

and the stall is cold and cruel as everyone else.

I can't begin to fathom what my mind can reach.

Is this a heaven's place, or is this hell? My mind is

numb, far-reaching. In this void I think I have

found my home.

A WALK THROUGH THE PARK.

Walk Through the Park

It was 4 30 pm in the afternoon and I was taking a walk

in the park.

Dogs ran by me like they didn't see me,

sometimes sniffing my leg but not saying anything.

I had just moved to Florida with my daughter, she worked

at a bar downtown, taking the bus to and from work.

She was a hard little worker, never complaining,

even when the guys would hit her behind and call her dahling,

as if that meant something to her when really it didn't.

She thought she was the bomb in her own way.

I missed her while she was at work. She filled my thoughts daily

while she was gone, and when she got home we would make

dinner and talk about what we did during the day-me,

usually nothing.

CHRISTMAS DAYZ.

Christmas Dayz

I am past thirty and the days are getting longer, colder,

more bitter. I find myself looking into the flames of the fire

place and dreaming of white Christmas, just like the ones

you used to know and all that rubbish. I wish I could

see Santa. I wish I could get a dog for Christmas and

walk him every day and feed him dog cookies like I used

to do with Ruff, my little dog from long ago. I miss him

now, him who is in Heaven, running with all the other dogs

that had passed on, running forever, his little legs carrying

him as far as he wanted to go, which wasn't very far,

or maybe further, I couldn't speak dog language then and I

can't speak it now. Very little I wanted for Christmas,

maybe just one package. And then I will be happy.

THE WINDOW.

THE WINDOW

As we grow old together, I am constantly aware

that you do not like me,

you never did, and you are only here for food

and a blanket.

We park you in front of the window so you can

sit and look out,

but that's not what you want to do.

You want to be a fisherman or an aviator,

and I cannot let you have both-for, out of fear of flying,

I have found myself yearning for my foot on

the soft earth.

I have found myself waiting for you to come

to me in the dark of the night, your footfalls

on the wood,

but yet you never come. You never please me.

Yet you are always watching, gazing out the window

as if deep in thought.

The Dawn That Fills the World.

The Dawn That Fills the World

The spot between a rock and a hard

place is where I want to be right now.

In the middle of it all, in between it all.

Just like something out of a horror movie.

I guess nothing makes much sense right now,

but in time, it will, just like the sun will rise

over the earth each day,

and the night will melt with dew.

The seasons will change. Day to day, everything

changes at the heart of the world,

and the world is at the heart of it all.

We are one. We are the earth.

The soil rises up out of the darkness like a song,

rises up, the flower pushes past its roots

and sings to the dawn that fills the world.