Monthly Archives: December 2015

10 Thoughts She Has


please tell me where I can get some solace.
it’s late and it’s cold and I am still growing,

you come around,
edge farther or closer I can’t tell
my image skewed sideways.

pictures frame the walls,
they’re dusty, they’re old,
they’re yours.
you collected them.

I admire you for your courage but
sometimes you take it too far.
in another life,
I was your father.
or so you say.

makeup is not a choice.
my hair is not an accessory.
it is part of me.
I am pretty.

somehow I cannot
be in the same room with you
I feel a bit collapsed
my chest heaves,
I breathe.

there is no good use saying it
but I feel odd.
the generations before me were
too stuffy,
the ones after too lawless.
money can buy you anything now.

I breached your trust?
you’ve got to be kidding me!
I was the one out on the land,
scouting around, snuffing out danger.
I was a damned good soldier for you
I think I know why you stuck by me anyhow.

for a plane
is not as trite
as it might

when I finally get back home
It’s snowing
and there’s your face
in the window.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry


A Bad Sign


I’ve based this all on a shaky belief
whereamigoing whereamigoing whereamigoing
i believe i was put here for a purpose
i believe i have exploited that purpose
in an innapropriate manner.

i am nervous on all fronts
i am standing, teetering
you who asked me to remain calm
my ocean of lovers and friends
my ocean,
i have lost you all.

i thought i was a believer of
doing the right thing
but i was just on the edge
happily unaware,
and on the edge.
now im over,
now im a different person.

i see that face of yours and its all i am;
that face with those features,
it’s all i can cling to.
but even that is elusive.
and everything means very little.

i shed my skin
like a snake.

in seperate, non-correlative parts
a bit myself but
mostly a shadow of my frame.
i want to cry but tears dont come out.
it isnt a pleasant sign
and i can’t enter a new domain.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry 



I do not want to know
what you are really like
(it’s safe to say that
utter ignorance is
utter bliss)
because with every new thing I learn
your image slips
like needles over the same groove
worn with being seen
I don’t want to run dry so soon
but it seems i may

I want to be still with you like
a lake in a breezeless sky
a wordless speech in a
soundless film
a motionless statue in a
personless room
that’s bliss.


Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry



I can’t get away
from the lurking dangers
but at least you helped me
get back on my feet
and stayed until I could
collect my balance.
it was nice of you.

you just shrugged, you smiled
you said it was the thing to do.

the thing to do.

why are you so perfunctory?
why do you stand in the room,
just stand?
all you have do do is stand

but I can’t get anywhere
so I try and pretend
that I do.

I’m in a scrim that
fits neatly over my perception
but substantial enough
and you’re standing in there
this isolated bubble of

dampened noises
muted colors
like you’ve turned all the signals down and
every’s real quiet and soft.
I like that about you.
didn’t you know that?

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry



these are the things I will admit only to myself, and perhaps to someone who is important:


I’m in the chamber of
dust, dusk
musk, mist, fog
I am living in a cloud,
and people have to look up to see me,
but the thing is I’m afraid of heights


I’m afraid to be home alone
even though there are people around
I’m afraid
when everyone is there but you
you’re in a different house,
the one in your mind,
only no one’s in that one either.


I find more and more that
the less extravagant,
the more hearty
the less dainty,
the more buried in the soil
the less drenched and dripping
the more pragmatic
the less ethereal,
makes my blood run and burn.


I am grounded, steady
like my sign
repulsed by water and by swimming
by aquiline faces
by fast, clear running words
I’m melding into the rocks
I’m melting into the soils
I’m falling into the flowerbeds
because that’s the only way
I can get
a clearer head;


only you
I want to talk to you,
but I’m by myself
oh god

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry

Suit Smile


i ride the car around
but someone will pull us over
we will see the man in his suit.

he has a lot of money.
he has a big stack
and a big stick too,
the threat of big words.

but i am not scared.
i like these types of people.
they are the ones i dream about.

the next morning i pretend to be sick
so i call in with the flu
but they will not pay me sick leave.
they are making a mistake.

i am thinking about
getting pulled over
by the man in the suit.

he is on my neck
in my mind,
the man,
my fiance and i,
we are at the park
we eat lunch from a paper bag.
but i don’t love him.
i love the man in his suit.

i want to get another speeding ticket
so i can see him again.
but he said it wasn’t speeding,
(very politely)
he said i was

i smiled.
the man in the suit smiled.
i caught him in his car
just in time
just in time to see him
turn his glance away.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry

Arboretum Love Song


for you,
i am trying not to run out of sunlight
so i settle on the peat moss love by the house
forged in dirt and soil
quiet and secret
and then i knew
that i grew
from out of you

the weeds lift and stretch and
your smile is the good day

I’m full of self-doubt
not sure if any of this is genuine because i’m not
rushing to see u, a burgeoning bloom adoring
but here i am writing poetry
and it makes you just as real
(to me and the perennials)

i love your smile and i want to soak into it
i love your frame and i want to graft myself onto it
i love your voice and i want to grow on it;

I think of us together, like two ripe persimmons,
flying thru the air,
kissing in the middle of nowhere,
trying not to care,
I touch you in my mind and i find comfort in it there

and yes, in the security of this garden I am
writing and burying you a poem,
so you don’t have to read or
remember that I love you.
I haven’t spoken this poem aloud yet,
and that’s good, I’m not supposed to.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry

Don’t You Want my Opinion?


it’s like a piece of meat you could go on chewing forever and
never swallow,
kind of fat but not yielding either.
im stuck here, im wondering about
if there are people around that look like you.
wouldn’t that be nice

i fit perfectly into you like a glove.
enough about metaphors
you don’t spare those.
i typed in “how to stop feeling vaguely sad”
into the search engine and i got

your name is archetypal
smooth like all those biblical fighters
there are a million others named you
but you bring a different stodginess to it
like brown bread,
like the piece of meat i could
go on chewing forever and never swallow.

i am taking into account the fact that
i have never said hello to you,
and that’s fine.
i am fine with living inside a cold apartment in new york
watching you move from within my window
wall to wall, mirror to door
you, getting dressed, putting on an old robe
reading a book,
flipping the set, clenching your jaw like you do

i don’t know if it means anger,
or supression,
or annoyance,
or if it’s just a nervous tick you acquired
waiting for buses, for trains.

i hold your hands, like gloves into my hands
your hands are on my waist
and i can breathe again.

then i turn on the corner of the street
and i see the cold condensed wind of my breath
and i turn around, remembering it is not really you.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry

My Imaginary Friend Told Me to Go through Regression So I Obliged Him


And he was there!
Take me!
Ocean of your breast
I called it a wall of
Last night a vision of him
made me relive being
a frightened little girl
waiting inside for the person i don’t speak about.
I went up to her
and told her who I was-
and I went up to
her innocent, naive oppressor
and said “my god! you’re younger!
take better care of her”
and then it was over,
my eyes drowning,
and he was
still sitting by my bed.
He took me in his warm arms
and I could breathe.
and I was pleased
impressed, how he always knew
how to make things better,
though he didn’t like me saying so
and he didn’t like me telling.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry

It’s Great to Enact the Escape


and the added bonus is,
i don’t even have to open my eyes
to see it.

i curve and stretch like a piece of putty
there’s no turning back, i say
and i say it like i’m proud.
i don’t have to move
and yet I’m moving
i don’t have to speak,
and yet i’m speaking
i don’t have to be places,
and yet I’m going.
i can be anything.

you glide and swerve like an indiginous bird
that’s right, you say
and you say it like you’re right
you don’t have to move
and yet you’re moving
you don’t have to speak,
and yet you’re speaking.
you don’t have to be places
and yet you’re going.
you can be anything.

we can be anything.

Copyright 2015 Golden Star Poetry