small stones – March 27, 2016

art credit: Adrift, conceptual art by neveralonegame.com

why this revolving theme
a constant in my life

I find someone
grow to love them
and they leave

it takes a toll on me
to be open, vulnerable
to expose rattling bones

and so I wonder
why keep doing this
why seek friendships

resolve my destiny
embrace being alone

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What They Don’t Tell You — Poetry

What They Don’t Tell You

after the happily ever after
is how fast your life turns to grey

how you lose tiny pieces of yourself
first your voice —
nothing you have to say is ever that important
next your appeal —
you look nothing like the porn chicks he prefers
then your dignity takes a walk
followed by your self-respect —

and then you awaken one day with amnesia
you don’t know who the hell you are
nor why you are in this shitty marriage —
you are alone, friendless and jobless
in a dark hole with no help in sight

Marriage should come with warning signs
bells and whistles and quick exit doors —
or at the very least, a coffin in the bedroom
to practice death upon

©January 2014, Lori Carlson

I was reminded of this poem of mine after reading Patience’s poem

What They Don’t Say

It is enchantingly beautiful and hauntingly sad… Please have a read and support her blog LOVELETTERSTOAGHOST

For You — Poetry

For You

For you, I smile
even though the darkness
has settled into my bones
seeped into my veins
begging for release

You don’t need to see
this emptiness crawling
inside my weathered heart
nor the storms breaching
my weakened levees

I would poison you too
if this arsenic mind
crossed rivers to your soul
embedded itself
into the beauty you cherish

So I will smile
lie through embittered teeth
to protect your innocence
to prevent the nightmare
I truly am

©March 2015, Lori Carlson

Sacrifice — a poem

Sacrifice

As a child, I drowned fireflies
in the river because I envisioned
them setting ablaze the forest like arsonists
I thought if I strained my ears
I could hear them sizzle like bacon on a grill
as they flopped about in the water
But they kicked their legs, belly-up
in the cascades of currents; leaves
their only life rafts, pulled them further downstream
their beacons flashed a silent SOS
When their glow softened to dull ochre
I gathered the ones closest to shore
tied strings about their tiny bodies
and as though they were hanged men
I sacrificed them to the trees

One summer, I overheard
that Sadie’s baby drowned in the river
while she fucked a married man
on the river’s bank. I imagined
the baby’s tiny body: arms flapping
like firefly wings as he gulped
water into his mouth; his immature lungs
expanding as he cried a silent alarm
and his too-large blue eyes staring blankly
into the world of trout and bass below
Alms to Nature

Now, floating down stream
inner thoughts bobbing
arms extended
I pay homage to the river
O sacred deity
I inhale and plunge backwards
into the cool recesses of its currents
As bubbles rise, my breath escapes; my lungs panic
Desperate Child
Yet the currents lift me
I surface unclaimed

© 1995, Lori Carlson

Day One – small stones

Silence.
black fur curled, asleep
one perfect moment, alone