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Song for Mikhail

Posted February 12th, 2010 by LeahMae

This Life, she's a switch now and then--

Turns you off, turns you on,

Turns the page and you're gone

Still you rush to catch up with the wind when you can

You can hate her tomorrow; today she's your friend

 

This Life, she's a cheat now and then--

She's a--

[Now trill the r's here]

She's a trip full of trouble,

A sieve full of sand

Sets the snare for your foot as she kisses your hand

 

And the World catches cold now and then--

Cold milk on cold porridge,

Iced toe

The Cold Man's Second Dream

Posted December 27th, 2009 by LeahMae

The Cold Man's Second Dream

This dream builds a basement in a castle,
Where all the prophets ramble
Corridors unwinding, where they all can amble.
They gather round a hearth, and listen
to this story from the mantle:
 
"For uncounted generations now, I have been a stone
Light enough for a strong man to hold in his hand.
And one day I was built into this castle hearth.
The man who held me only for a moment,
who blinked his lovely eyes but once

The Cold Man's Dream

Posted December 27th, 2009 by LeahMae
The Cold Man's Dream
 
Lying still, his body in the drift,
his eyes blinking off the ice,
blazing red with cold they gaze up through heavens,
Past the irridescent swirls of silver pink and blues
through the warm blanket of white
Beyond, to the wet-black night
And for an hour he dreams.
 
"Why have you lain alone?" she beckons him
"If only I had known," he answers her
"Had I but known..."
But the hand that starts the fauc

Bittersweet Snowscape

Posted December 27th, 2009 by LeahMae
Bittersweet Snowscape
His hand turns the faucet that starts the flood to flowing.
Who is he?  Where does he live?  Where did he plan on going?
And what stood in his road?
What stopped his march and blocked him where he stood,
deciding what was bad and what was good?
 
A half-created tree,
turns gilden leaf and then turns silver bough,
not knowing why nor how.
 
My songbird rests upon the silver bough,
lined with crystal no

Social Commentary

Posted December 22nd, 2009 by LeahMae

Growing up is learning what should have happened that didn't happen.

Portage is so foreign from Kalamazoo, and I miss my home.  I was walking home last night along Westnedge, which becomes a festival of neon the further south you go, and there was a hyped up blond couple walking toward me carrying signs that said, "Christmas.  What did you forget?"  Just to break the ice I asked them casually, "Who do you work for?"  The aggressive male, not releasing the death grip he had on his girl's hand, replied, "I work for Jesus.  Who do you work f

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