I’ve been staring at this cursor blinking in Word Press…

Who remembers Blockbuster?

I had lists as long as my arm [not written down, of course, but in the dysfunctional rolodex of my head] of movies I HAD to see. Friday night rolled around, I confidently marched into the video rental store, and <crickets>

I thought of state capitals, where conifers are found, brands of hair gel, but couldn’t recall one single title I wanted to watch. There I’d be, walking the perimeter of the store, scoping out the ‘new releases’ waiting for my memory to join the party [my brain: cumulus clouds are puffy and white, stratus are layered and cover the entire sky, cirrus are thin and wispy…] DAMMIT!

I digress… I recall this phenomenon as I’m considering what my first blog entry should be, ‘tongue’ tied, stricken, empty. “Get it together woman,” I mutter to no one in particular. Then I remembered [finally] I wrote a poem very recently. It’s technically my most current creative work [this blog notwithstanding], and it feels, well, perfect.

No intro or explanation [though I reserve the right to change my mind], no fanfare or subliminal intentions from me, just an offering for digestion.

without further adieu…

more

Time slows
Need grows
Heart shows

Frantic. Frenetic. Frequency.
Screaming
Moving in me; wanting more
Breathe. Two. Three. Four.

Touch me
Hear me, I cry!

Then

I’ve lost the words.

He sees
He’s blind
I see
His mind

Show the secret
Maybe…
Open the door
Exhale. Two. Three. Four.

Scared. Sacred. Scarred.
Healing moment, I turn away
grasping my hand, he is, is he?
Anointed, I’m desperate to stay.