memories and dust

[revolutionR]

How many tears do I have to pour out
how many sky cuts of ruby tears bleed
my insides are floating in a river of them
raining down in torrents of droplets
a coming down with no end in sight
a cryin all day and all the endless night
sudden in storms of emotion and fury
all my pipes burst all my thoughts cursed
all my lucky charms kissed thrice
to attempt to hold back the damn
you you you are so so so missed
I was such a fool and now it's all in a pool of heck
I'm a total wreak without you, no gettin around it
the liquid from my eyes is like whiskey on fire
and I goin down like morphine in a needle full of pain
rain rain rain until the whole world is drowning in it
goin insane insane insane until I sob in dripping ink
in flash floods of running streams of flurry
splashing out into big puddles of outrage
ridden in riddles of self cross examination
draining from me into gullies and ditches
and I think of those sons and daughters of bitches
that treated you like an object for their own riches
as if people are not persons with feelings and dreams
of their own, so I grown and tare out my guts
and watch the fluid of me travel gravely into life's ruts
into the streets in sheets of winding water
filling the gutters with my sense of dissolution
what's left on me, but some memories and dust
all the rest has passed on into the starry ocean of you

[judih]

quiet applause
you have made the statement walk up and hold its liquid form

[revolutionR]

Pisces her, water sign
sun in cancer now, likewise water sign
I have a tendency to want to use Yiddish
so much dreck so much mashugana
I had to learn about the family she came from
they called her Memie, after Mem Sophie
only her grandmother gave her love
that's what kept her sane growing up
only I really knew her, but she held all
that trauma inside from the way the mother
treated her, and forced the brother and sister
to treat her the same, the Dad was a lawyer
who was off screwin other women
but she loved her Dad anyway
because he was nice to her when she was a little girl
I always remember her listening to Leonard Cohen
and she liked Joni Mitchell, such a gentle soul my Mem Sophie
she never complained, I remember right after I first met her
she needed a pair of shoes, as we were walking down the street
one night, she found a pair of shoes in a out door thrift store drop
bucket, they looked like clown shoes to me, she was my little tramp
with her curly long brown hair and her big cat like beautiful eyes
and her sweet smile that lit up the world, she followed me
into the poetry readings, and one time she read her poem
in North Beach and got a standing ovation, she was my salvation

[saw]

palpable heartache...grieving can take on a life of its own, so can regret....and they cannot be ignored......it's a process that unfolds in unexpected ways....tears are the salt of the earth..