souls

I’m not that smart

Posted on by Chrissy

It’s raining in the light today

and soon the dark

will control my mind

but reading your poem

exclusively for me

made my heart swell

felt like a tiny pebble

in this great ocean

we drown or swim in

or float

ordering our morning coffee

smiling at the same waitress.

And there you go again

asking me the same

question years later

hoping for a different reply

but I’m not that smart

leave me cry

over my broken ripped out heart

insult me again

hate me

for I love that you’ll be so close

and in the spur of the moment

I’m there

don’t ask me to think about

it

because in seven minutes

I’ll regret my no

as your plane lands

perhaps mine already left.

I ordered my afternoon coffee

I’ll be discussing how education

has failed the young

a panel of experts

will point me out

as the woman whose life

changed in November

when a car crashed

and broken glass

stopped her

from replying

and living

her life.

I know nothing

I wish I was smarter

but you have

all the power.

breaking into a thousand pieces

Posted on by Chrissy

it’s not what you did it’s that you did it at all

how you dissected me into beautiful fragments

of my soul.

no one else could do it like that

you took the best parts of me

and showed them to myself.

all my self-doubt drowned

at least for a bit

until they resurface

when i’m naked in the bath.

you clutched all of me

with your tight grasp

and morning mantras.

how is it possible

to love like this?

to hate like this?

you will go one day

like everyone before you,

but for now

you can complete

the parts of me

that drowned.

The Mountain

Posted on by Chrissy

i have that pin you gave me when I saved

your life. it fell off the other day and I found

it under my bed. not really poetic. but

without it i feel naked. you came to me

when the day became the night at that

perfect sunset moment when the world

around me stops and I stare up

to forget the pounding of keys

and my heart.

i do not try to get on top of you,

you have a way of getting there first.

your wicked ways of wanting

your charming chase of chanting’

i got an A in literature and never

went to claim my award. no

university mattered as much

as the one you never went to.

i wanted to continue the idealistic

dream but money took over the

desire. as it always does, and i

still rock myself to waking up.

to sleeping. boxes of wine bottles

on kitchen floors. none of my

words reach you though

up in your empire of broken

dreams. you visit less and less

and forgot the melodramatic

way i enhance all the nails

on the wall. stop piercing me.

you struck me too far. no

distance is far enough. no

steps slow enough. you will

catch me one day when i

least expect it. as it should be.

no expectations or careless

imaginations. greeks crashing

the markets and democracy

the epic revolution. it’s in our

blood to see further. despise

the enemy, with empty pockets

and ghosts of the army past.

no one ever forgets history.

i’m going to the mountain,

because that is what we

call Mont-Royal, there’s

a word for all the insiders

that the outsiders claw at.

a few speak them.

a few know that guitar riff.

but most doubt their own

heritage. or wave it off.

check your veins.

you’re alive.

hell is near.

trashing

Posted on by Chrissy

in the middle of the day. Jack sings

while I wrap gifts, get paint in my

fingernails, no fake colors here.

you talk about me as if

i can’t hear or read. follow or not.

do whatever pleases you.

i’ll be here, listening to the

same ol’ songs tapping my foot

any time of day. jumping

naked on the bed. bra flung

over your tie. panties

long gone (did i even wear

them?) did you forget

i write stories? i invent

scenes, acts, characters.

did you forget i have a

problem? label me

hypersensitive; crying over

everything you say about me.

i ignore for a second or two

and then i’m running

as usual, you say. don’t forget

to bring milk, you shout

as i grab my purse and keys.

you’re going out like that?

yeah, and fuck off.

fights, trash talk

bite me when i come back

with my bag of skim milk

and tight shorts.

you know you want to.

the drive, the music,

the wind made it

all better, don’t you see?

i came here for you

and i’ll leave here

in spite of you. and all

you say is you’re not

impressed with any of it.

sell my life away.

sell my thoughts.

my peach bra, my almond

eyes, sell it all like

a whore. isn’t that what you

think? i forgot to make supper,

i forgot your shirts at the

dry cleaners, but i remembered

how you touched me

while I was sleeping.

Same sky

Posted on by Chrissy

I must have learned something last night

perhaps you thought I knew

you always think I know what you will say

and usually I do, but yesterday

you said that perhaps I gave up

a long time ago. The car needs

a wheel alignment like my love.

Straighten me out with kisses

along my back. Imagine an ocean

then dive straight to my bottom

plunge deep,

I will still be there breathing

kissing the stingrays

glowing like clownfish do

dreaming, erasing, writing,

in that state of distraction.

Yet, during the snowstorm

I looked up at the Montreal sky

and thought this is what we share

the same sky

and then I heard it

the chirping in -10

I stopped of course, and searched

each naked branch of ice

as soon as I saw the cardinal

he flew.

He just wants me to know

he’s still watching

and other notes

from the grave

I can read.

Cemeteries too deep in snow

he misses my visits

so he comes

to me.

You’re lucky my mom

says.

How so?

He forgot me.

Never, you know you’re souls are one

from kids

so stop that shit,

just look for it

really look

and then I explain to her

how she once explained to me.

All under the same sky

but

completely

different lives.

Books not written

Posted on by Chrissy

It will always feel

like you are losing me

as soon as you get too close.

Today I wanted to stay home

and write all day

and tomorrow

the same

but what silly thoughts

are these?

Trust me, that as soon

as you need me

it’s time to let me go.

Can you cut off

all the media?

All that noise?

I can.

I have.

I will.

I must.

Can you track me down

to see how I feel?

Can you close in on me

from everywhere?

Surround me with your strength

disarm me with your gentleness

the gap between the two

obscure

wide and approaching.

I see it from all angles

of this square

or that circle

or whatever you want to

call a shape within my mind

within a form

within an outline of my love.

For if you have my body

it comes with a soul

united.

Others can separate the two

discuss politics like sports

stir wet and dry ingredients

simultaneously

but I can save the day

with my frosting abilities

my inner sparkles that shine.

Soul and body

not that hard to disconnect the dots

that are invisible.

Reading Little Prince

again,

it appears life needs no explanation

while I was boarded up

with nails

until  you

resurfaced me.

Believe me, I have always

known how to walk into a room

full of people I know,

the trick is to do the same

with strangers.

I have always known

everything about me.

He reads my eyes and

that in itself is another

book

not written

(yet).

IMG_7743

fate

Posted on by Chrissy

you said to leave it to fate
don’t make a date
the time “who cares”
the meeting
well, who dares.
Ain’t it funny how
time knocks us down now
how New York
was a daunting force
to carry me like a running horse
to your steps
in the cab in Brooklyn
we giggled and cried and this losing win
you get in my head
for a second
you get in my bed
and I would reckon
God would be hated
we would be jaded.
Even Aphrodite agrees
and Apollo he decrees
that lovers like us
make great statues
cupid & psyche
writing the blues.
I did dance at The W
with a good-looking crew
smoking on the street
I thought I saw you
but my heart didn’t skip a beat
in Times Square
and fuck I thought
“Life is not fair.”
And another week rolls by
and more tears I will surely cry
for you know you’ll always be the one
I don’t play dumb.
Third time is never a charm
it’s bullshit, causing more harm
better to go see Andy Warhol alone
sit on the steps you call home
and feel your presence
in your absence.

She woke up

Posted on by Chrissy

The morning is taking away
all my night powers
my prowls
my inner growls.

Take my tiny hand
squeeze it, pinch me
on this snowy land
make me real
hence, all that I feel
turns inside out
upside down
wrong side up
I’m a fragile box
handle with care
keep the descriptive words
coming
need their existence
like water now.

Chasing me was not so worthy
my gaps are enormous
you should flee
before it is much too late
for bloody undeniable fate
to make us one.

I can not look back
at age and rage
and every single page
I wrote.
I am feeling alive
along the train track
with that song you played
blaring down the grey street
reflecting my weak heart beat
leading me straight to you-
all the darkness
all the light
all the tragic loss
all the epic flights
landing close by your door
to knock on number 605
before sunrise
to see the exact colour of your eyes.
All this means something right now
and that is what matters most
anyhow.
Not asking but telling
(as she wakes up in the middle of the day).

Ahead

Posted on by Chrissy

I could not have met you
at a more perfect moment
not at a park swing
at ten
not at a party at sixteen
not at a bar at twenty-three
not at an altar at thirty
not at Central Park
under a full moon
at forty
but under the Montreal sky
on a dangerous street
looking up at the infinite stars
on a mild fall day
that warmed my heart.
I thought my hair smelled
like fish
but you assured me
it truly did not.
And I liked how you asked
so many questions
in so little time,
you said I was how
you had pictured me,
you know what I felt
you felt what I knew.
This is being Ahead
by a century, I thought
but I didn’t say that,
most of my thoughts
they come out slowly
like dripping water.
I said another line
and you understood
that even if I was a bit tipsy
you were such a gentleman.
I always remember
every
word.