Sunday, July 18, 2010

love poems

There is nothing more deranged than a teenage girl. During this drawn out reverie, my mind keeps coming back to Ramona. My baby who is a girl. Someday I'm going to slap my hand to my face and say, "what the hell is wrong with that girl?".
I just hope she never discovers Sylvia Plath.

So, in honor of that. In honor of being sick with love and very young; some love poems that are only slightly deranged:

coming clean

On a clear day you come pretty clean
and I can see you for miles.
Going north
I found tides of you
and boats white with destination.

I've found you
and you are lost again,
you do this easier with the cold.
I bought a big coat
to not think of you, it is not of you
that I teach school; I've buried myself
with books of penmanship, I can hide
from you while grading,
grading him, grading math.

But only on clear days
your house stands white.
And your brown smokestack
navigates me,
knows that I step on snowy steps,
on broken boxes to look deeply into you.
This morning, found
and found to be lost again,
I found a great land in your
deep wide steps.

you love others

You love others
and this drops me into a deep draining pit,
my neck is gone,
my toes went long ago.
Water stole my face and my name,
and it can not matter because you might be in love.


  1. Nice and Plathian. My friend Farrah wrote about a poetry reading in Brooklyn a few weeks ago, where all the poets read from their teenage works. Maybe you might be interested. You might actually be interested in her new post too, about Nancy Hirschmann's article "Mothers Who Care too Much."

  2. Gosh Dan, this is even cooler to me because I had the same idea simultaneously. I almost posted a comment on her blog, but I would be totally out of my element. Being a mom blogger and all...but I want to....I want to so BAD.