Saturday, January 19, 2008

Denial


Denial

My back is to the candle,
I'm faced the other way.
The human heart can stand anything,
if it looks the other way.

Misfortune cannot break me.
I’ll seek another way.
I won't see the shit that happens,
I'll exist another day.

The coldness is unending
living life outside the fray.
When all is said and done though,
I’ll have lived my life my way.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Friday, January 18, 2008

(P) Alliteration


(P) Alliteration

pale, pink, plastic
placed persistently
presumes to placate
pretends to pacify
a painful
pitter-patter
pump

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Beauty




Beauty

Beauty without the beloved
is like a sword
through the heart.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Monday, January 14, 2008

Stuck


Stuck

Like a cartoon light bulb
turning on above my head,
it occurs to me
that I no longer need you.

But the moment passes
on squeaking, wobbling wheels
of a dessert cart
and I am stuck...

Stuck in viscous
chocolate syrup and
a strawberry torte
heart.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Tears In a Tea Cup




Tears In a Tea Cup

Where did you go?
I am alone.
Tears gather in a tea cup.
The cat won’t drink from the saucer.

I see your scrawl
across the page.
You knew me
that long time ago.

I hear your drawl.
Doesn’t matter what the words,
in my ears
they were all true.

Kindness, you spoke of
simple, sweet kindness.
Something died.
The challenge was in living it.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Friday, January 11, 2008

Winter Rain

Winter Rain

Time is long;
wants are too;
needs don’t
even figure.

One question mark
mocks;
makes;
all this busted beauty.

Flash a light
on every quandary;
look deeply at each
nickel-colored  sky.

Unfurl one perfect
imperfection;
send it skyward;
ask for everything.

Thunder out
the blackness
of tree-bark
drenched in rain.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Thursday, January 10, 2008

So Inconvenient

So Inconvenient

It is so inconvenient
that you should show up now,
when I have made up my mind
not to love again.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Don't Think Twice


Don't Think Twice

I fell in love with Dylan
his Dylan voice
sang Dylan songs
into my ear.

I asked him who he was.
His crinkled blue eyes
looked deeply into mine.
He said,
“The answer is blowing in the wind.”

I told him that I loved him.
He tipped his hat and smiled.
“Don’t think twice
it’s alright.”

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Shame on you


Shame on you

Shame on you.
What have you done?
Your heart’s dried up.
You think you’ve won.

But after all is said,
and after all is done,
you will be alone,
and I will be the one.

I will be the one
to never be alone.
I will be the one
to find a happy home

I’m sorry life has been so cruel,
you felt that you must hide.
I’m sorry. Yes, I’m sorry,
but I have really tried

To give you all the love
I’m sure that you deserve.
To cherish you and give my heart
in practice and in word

I hope that you find happiness.
But I think that you will not.
Then one day you'll look at me
and see what you have lost.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Monday, January 7, 2008

Present in the Past



Present in the Past


Slipping fast
the love is gone.
Gone, gone, you setting sun.

Present in the past
I hear Neil Young,
“Gone, gone, the damage done.”

Now at last
the battle’s done.
Gone, gone, your monkey won.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Coney Island



Coney Island

I loved to watch you dance.
Arms and legs akimbo,
eyes closed,
a smile spread across your face.

Others on the dance floor had to move out of your way.
They gawked;
you never saw them,
or if you did you never let on.

Those fools only
made me stand taller,
and dance harder,
proud to be your partner.

I loved to listen to your laugh,
that unique blast
part hic-up,
part guffaw.

On a hot day late in August,
after too much wine the night before,
we rode the cyclone
again and again.

Later, amongst a few off-season stragglers,
in the coolness of the circus tent,
we sat on the bleachers,
holding hands.

We watched a sword-swallower
do her tricks
I whispered something obscene,
you laughed loud.

She looked and asked,
“Is that your real laugh?”
And I asked “Is that a real sword?” .
then we ran away laughing.

In the hot sun again,
we asked a sweet old lady to take our picture.
She focused your camera on us
and motioned for us to back up.

Farther, farther,
and farther still.
You, ever the New Yorker,
thought she was trying to steal your camera.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Faith


Faith

Withered
on a vine,
like
raisins;
raisins;
sweeter
than grapes.

Grapes
altered,
grapes
transformed,
no longer grapes,
now, something more.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Bequest


Bequest
(for P.M.)

I wanted to leave
you something
a Blue Jay’s feather
drifting down
from nowhere

Maybe the tulips
I planted
near that tree
will poke through
a late spring snow

A tide-worn
shard of sea glass
with an initial
mine or yours
washing up
in a wave
at your feet

I might come to you
while you sleep
and tell you things
I meant to say
long before
I went away

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Friday, January 4, 2008

Measures



Measures

The measure of a filament
a weightless bit of nature’s tatted lace
ill-gotten
all that’s left of
a fallen leaf.

The measure of a human soul
twenty-one grams
of Robin's-egg-blue
won by deception
held in the palm of my hand
for one short summer.

The measure of human beauty
every inch
in the eye of the beholder
a honey bee,
a smooth piece of plum colored sea-glass,
and a poem.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Visible Thread



Visible Thread

Opened
Faded
Un-insulated
I am the visible thread
of a spider’s web.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Give and Take



Give and Take

I give
you take
multi-colored silk
from a magicians
breast pocket.

I push
you pull
circus clowns
from a Volkswagen beetle.

Lindsay Riggs Brown

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Shelter


Shelter

Half-
way in,
human
sounds
disappear.
Timbers creak
in the highest pine.
Perhaps, I will build
my nest in there;
a shelter from the storm

Half-way in,
sitting on a fence;
waiting for the world to catch up.
Enamored by a chipmunk’s stripes;
obsessed with the thought of a mockingbird’s native song.
Perhap, I will build my nest in here. a shelter from the storm

Lindsay Riggs Brown