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life is phair
Poetry
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I heard
the words my mother sang
so clear and true and young and free and without fear
ring in every room of the house that is now my home
a place she never entered
but a place she knew well for years before I was ever born
a lifetime of her living before my conception
the song's a peaceful song
it echoes with vows before God
and promises of hope
and a chance or more of recreating creation
the song is as old
as is the original wish
His love
on this earth
would not extinguish
without regard
to the passage of days or the rending apart of ways
or the forgotten lives that withered on the branch
or worse
those pure and ripe and ripped
fresh from the vine
only to be smothered by some world wearied heart
she sung it then with unbridled passion
and in my memories it continues still
that way throughout this
cold dark winter's
night
Kate,
if you were here,
you’d see
the green and foamy
Atlantic in full retreat
leaving miles and miles of
rocks and shells and sandy
beach challenging to the bravest of feet
the wind, tonight,
is a physical presence
it ripples against the current,
whipping persistently Northeast
towards Boston
and, there’s me
looking away
searching without success
for the now unseen place
I’ve spent the better part of the day
But, my attention returns quickly
to the shore; I need my sand and sea
the night’s too hot to bear without
the ocean of relief
waiting so patiently before me
the salty sting of a reminder
amid the chilled breeze
with a splash of cold reality
I’m submerged
again in the frigid depths
all of this
really happened on
July 25, 2006
Sorry to be missing you
You combined
Ross, Daniel, Dan, Matt, Jarrett, Jamie, Kevin, Lauren, Emily, Brian, Matthew, Partahi, Rachael, Ryan, Caitlin, G.V., Minal, Austin, Jeremy, Erin, Jocelyne, Juan, Henry, Michael, Julia, Waleed, Mary, Leslie, Nicole, Reema, Maxine and
Professor Liviu Librescu
to create a whole
We are Virginia Tech
We are America
And we will miss you all
so
very
very
much
After Insulate, Secondi, and dessert at Bridgeman’s
The sibilant s slices across the dim, hard wooded room
breaking the brooding with an unintelligible whisper
A breath of a secret, newborn in the shadows,
spoken but not revealed to just any idle bystander
A message meant not to be shared beyond the confines
of soft full lips to a warm red ear
Candles flicker in the sigh that follows
and almost extinguishes the reply
“No.”
Bob Said
I leaned in
to kiss him
goodbye
and he spoke
‘love you’
so clear
so firm
I could only believe
it was true
my eyes glistened with tears
my breath caught with hope
at the sound of the words
I had waited to hear
for years
‘love you more’
I replied
and stole another kiss
he giggled and grabbed my nose
my little buddy
my brave little boy
Just About Them
identify
and
classify
separate
segregate
isolate
marginalize
and
ostracize
eviction
ejection
elimination
divided
and
diminished
beat
broken
conquered
futile
I didn't want
to love you
didn't want to
shelter a heart
as flawed and
broken as my
own but then
you wrap your
tiny hand around
my finger tip
fresh, warm, pure
leaving me mute
humbled and hopeful
by the beauty
of your perfect
soul
submission
be gentle with me
it is my first time
I've never been this far before
the skin is new and pink
and soft and tender
to your touch
I could bruise with a look
and bleed from a word
a miss aimed blow
will destroy the small part
of me that is
waiting
like a stranger
at the door of
my own home
while you decide
marguerite mullaney
fall 2000
Dec. 25th
2002
at 5:44 pm
after a day long
pelting, windblown struggle
it became a white Christmas here
our first since 1974
my first Christmas in this house
my father's favorite home
the first since
Dec. 25th
1974
the last Christmas Boston saw snow
the last Christmas Thom spoke
our last Christmas
when we were whole
life under reconstruction
in the stillness
after the din
has faded
the welcoming silence
surrounds me
sheltering me
from the
echoes of chaos
the maddening distractions
of memories
stinging with regrets
which would keep me
from the task in hand
clearing away the past
the pain
making way for today
the new way
my turn
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Job's Sisters
yet another
agony
arrives
in the seemingly endless
series of torments
that
descend
on us like
a steady September rain
soaking
chilling
reminding
us with every stinging drop
we are truly abandoned
by God
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aging
slipping
slowing
fading
failing
ebbing
ending
dying
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ALZHEIMER'S
yesterday becomes today
when the gray sets in
and all that talk talk
is just a bit more razzle
but much less dazzle
friends depart as
life becomes managed
rather than lived.
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illiterate
this ain't no cultured Boston
the city of the Brahmans
of the MFA
of the Sargents
of the swan boats
this is just south of there
smirking and sneering
Smart asses can't get to Harvard from here
it is the Boston of bars
and brawls
and bowling alleys
you won't find Mayflower roots
on our family tree
the last one of us to climb on top
only managed to get his head blown off
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A man in black
there
in the outer most edge of my vision
he waits
black and white and dead all over
motionless, he stands
chalk pale cheeks, bloodlessly thin lips
cold stone chiseled features
darkly starch stiff, permanently creased
a subtle head shake, no
he has not come
to tip his hat toward me
not my time
to become the object of his affection
to receive
his unwelcome, inevitable invitation to join the departed guests
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