Tag Archives: hands

Bracelets, Ducky Love, Rings, & Song

23 Jun

<a href=”https://mattspotentialpoetry.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/image-062212-from-okc-pictures.jpg”&gt;


I realize when I look at you
baby, that I love you so,
and I need to hold you close
and dance-

We started this dance
so long ago now,
and your eyes are
telling me you are
getting tiredearly
in the morning. Those
amazing eyes I dreamed
the other night I was
seeing through my hands.
My brain
my heart-
science saying-

that I love you, and I need
you to stay forever-
and it was winter
when we met- and next
spring we will be
married. And I just had
to ask you that night-
I proposed- I could not wait
To hear you say, “Yes.”
Had to tell you that day
I brought you to the ocean,
and you brought me the
ocean motion love reaction-
but it was cold, and
I abbreviated a prounoun-
Do ya think I was

And tonight I caught two fireflies
in our Santa Claus Jar- and we let
them go early in the evening. I could
let those flashing bugs go- as the sun
set cleaning mirrors- because you
are everything I need- those
amazing smiles that ride waves
to your eyes- more than one

Scenery don’t really matter- it
ends up all the same- it is that
sweet kiss I always miss- but
old mythology persisted to
raise its head- just throw
a mirror in front of the medusa-
save us from that turning to
stone- the sweetest honeyed
lips I ever want to know-
they make the whole world
disappear when they form
words delicate yet true-
you always talk to me baby-
even when I leap from here
to there. You are with me always,

I am
ripping down our sun blanket, and
saying we need to go stargazing-
a state of grace with you
the Universe.

I am left juxtaposing different
of consciousness- from
strawberry milkjello
onward to dreams-
and ever onward-
a proposal-

soon a ceremony.

On an island will we be-
I really didn’t think
things could ever be like
this- the two of us
my very

And it is tired,
And I am getting late-
and that Mockingbird
is singing from his nest-
songs of home
that always
lock up
the rain.

This poem
when cut up
would become
simple clay
red clay-
scraped from
the wheels
of our red
Monte Carlo
with one
flat tire.
Home is the result-
Of course.
And I remember falling into
Your eyes well before it was
a late spring concert finale-
before I even knew ya, truly.
My phone flashed your two
Display- it to me was like
Some fantasy planet captured
By an amateur astronomer with
Kids, dogs, cats, like Tim-
Remember the menagerie
And his nerd cabinet?
Left hand:
One white thread bracelet- one month old-
Amasing- one thread, and it is still hanging
Right Hand:
Red & Gold- black string knot- three months old-
Cape Hatteras National Seashore-
camping at Oregon Inlet-
flying kites on empty beaches-
teaching you how to
Pink & Red handmade
in India across the
ocean a Christmas
gift from Jo Jo-
it had- how many bells?
Now, six months later- all the bells
have fallen off- but we have caught
them together in our hands.

Orange & Yellow
picked up at that
uber strange

If we had not been so tired after
our cross country trek- and a
tire going flat- and the ole
Monte Carlo was a kroovy
red in that strange parking
lot- the cashier flicking us off-
remember that? When we first
stopped in Virginia back in late

And a rope bracelet-
possibly hemp
possibly not-
with a centered
groovy green
oblong oval bead,
and with small black
bead tieoffs dangling-
from Chippokes-
our matching
nigh three months

Other bracelets have
broken or been retired
for preservation.

And of course the rings-
it all started with that
fifty cent machine-
two white and black
engagement rings.
Now replacing those
with one groovy
ring we stumbled
upon in that little
was that on sidewalk
chalk day?
And the island of
Chincoteague is
An island without
We’ll have to cross the
Chesapeake Bay via
Three bridges
And two
Tunnels- a movern
Marvel of technology-
A wonder of the world
On a list.

And tonight there were two lightning
Bugs in the Santa Claus jar. And on
The island there will be a great
Wave of family coming-
Jo Jo, Aunts, Uncles, and

She Prayed With Mangled Hands

16 Jun

She pulled her arm free of his grip
barely seeing where she was going
she took a long look down a
flight of dim steps, and spilled
down them into a thousand
dollar alley.

The sign above her blinked
“Slot Machines &
Fortune Tellers,”
but all she found
was a worn escalator.

She stumbled in and
hoped to find the extra
time she needed. The
late hour seemed to
settle the senseless
crowd around her.

She pulled her hand
out of her pocket and
a rain of broken glass
and blood fell down,
but she found the
salvage of one good

She was hoping to break
the bank not become
another transitory body
reaching out but never
finding that elusive
world of riches.

Soon the night and her
fury were gone becoming
a morning of soggy womb
sheets forever stoned in
each eye losing thousands
as the cold water worship
rushed through her mangled

She stepped out onto the
balcony and daylight
assaulted her and robbed
the graves behind her eyes
as the children outside
on the street below found
belief stamped upon the
morning paper.