I Take Master Card
(Charge Your Love To Me)
I've heard all the stories
'bout how you don't deserve me
'cause I'm so strong and beautiful and wonderful and you could
never live up to what you know I should have but I just want to let
you know:
I take Master Card
You can love me as much as your heart can stand
then put the rest on
account and pay the interest
each moneth until we get this settled
You see me modern women do comprehend
that we deserve a whole lot more
than what is normally being offered but we are trying
to get aligned with the modern world
So baby you can love me all
you like 'cause you're pre-approved
and you don't have to sign on
the bottom line
Charge it upp
'til we just can't take no more
it's the modern way
I take Master Card
to see your Visa
and I deal with a Discovery but I don't want any American
Express 'cause like the Pointer Sisters say:  I need a slow hand
You were gone
You were gone
like a fly lighting
on that wall
with a spider in the
corner
You were gone
like last week's paycheck
for this week's bills
You were gone
like the years between
twenty-five and thirty
as if somehow
You never existed
and if it wouldn't be
for the gray hairs
I'd never know that
You had come
Resignation
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into springs
and the air cleans after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off this Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you like that habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I'm sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
though my life a mess
I love you
because I don't want it
any other way
I am helpless
in my love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it's been so good
for so long
that if I didn't love you
I'd have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me love
is so simple
the thought of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible
if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afriad of the dark
and I can't sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
beacause you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you 'cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
Balances
in life
one is always
balancing
like we juggle our mothers
against our fathers
or one teacher
against another
(only to balance our grade
average)
3 grains salt
to one ounce truth
our sweet black essence
or the funky honkies down the
street
and lately I've begun wondering
if you're trying to tell me
something
we used to talk all night
and do things alone together
and i've begun
(as a reaction to a feeling)
to balance the pleasure of
loneliness
against the pain
of loving you
Poetry is a Trestle
poetry is a trestle
spanning the distance between
what i feel
and what i say
like a locomotive i rush full speed ahead
trusting your strength
to carry me over
sometimes we share a poem
because people are near
and they would notice me
noticing you
so i write X and you write O
and we both win
sometimes we share a poem
because i'm washing the dishes
and you're looking at your news
or sometimes we make a poem
because it's Sunday and you want
ice cream while i want cookies
but always we share a poem
because belief predates action
and i believe
the most beautiful poem
ever heard is your heart
racing
You Are There
i shall save my poems
for the winter of my dreams
i look forward to huddling
in my rocker with my life
i wonder what i'll contemplate
lovers- certainly those
i can remember
and knowing my life
you'll be there
you'll be there
in the cold
like a Siamese on my knee
proud purring when you let me stroke you
you'll be there in the rain
like an umbrella over my head
sheltering me from the damp mist
you'll be there in the dark
like a lighthouse in the fog
seeing me through troubled waters
you'll be there in the sun
like coconut oil on my back
to keep me from burning
i shall save a special poem
for you to say
you always made me smile
and even though i cried sometimes
you said i will not let you down
my rocker and i on winter's porch
will never be sad if you're gone
the winter's cold has been stored
against
you will always be
there
A Poem of Friendship
We are not lovers
because of the love
we make
but the love
we have

We are not friends
because of the laughs
we spend
but the tears
we save

I don't want to be near you
for the thoughts we share
but the words we never have
to speak

I will never miss you
because of what we do
but what we are
together
Love Is
Some people forget that love is
tucking you in and kissing you "Good night"
no matter how young or old you are

Some people don't remember that love is
listening and laughing and asking questions
no matter what your age

Few recognize that love is
commitment    responsibility   no fun at all
unless

Love is
You and me
The Way I Feel
i've noticed i'm happier
when i make love
with you
and have enough left
over to smile at my doorman

i've realized i'm fulfilled
like a big fat cow
who was just picked
for a carnation contentment
when you kiss your special place
right behind my knee

i'm as glad as mortar
on a brick that knows
another brick is coming
when you walk through
my door

most time when you're around
i feel like a note
roberta flack is going to sing

in my mind you're a clock
and i'm the second hand sweeping
around you sixty times an hour
twenty-four hours a day
three hundred sixty-five days a year
and an extra day
in leap year
cause that's the way
that's the way
that's the way i feel
about you
How Do You Write a Poem?
how do you write a poem
about someone so close
to you that when you say ahhhhh
they say chuuuu
what can they ask you to put
on paper that isn't already written
on your face
and does the paper make it
any more real
that without them
life would be not
impossible but certainly
more difficult
and why would someone need
a poem to say when i come
home if you're not there
i search the air
for your scent
would i search any less
if i told the world
i don't care at all
and love is so complete
that touch or not we blend
to each other the things
that matter aren't all about
baaaanging (i can be baaaanged all
day long) but finding a spot
where i can be free
of all the physical
and emotional bullshit
and simply sit with a cup
of coffee and say to you
"i'm tired" don't you know
these are my love words
and say to you "how was your
day" doesn't that show
i care or say to you "we lost
a friend" and not want to share
that loss with strangers
don't you already know
what i feel and if
you don't maybe
i should check my feelings
Just a New York Poem
i wanted to take
your hand and run with you
together toward
ourselves down the street to your street
i wanted to laugh aloud
and skip the notes past
the marquee advertising "women
in love" past the record
shop with "The Spirit
In The Dark" past the smoke shop
past the park and no
parking today signs
past the people watching me in
my blue velvet and i don't remember
what you wore but only that i didn't want
anything to be weawring you
i wanted to give
myself to the cyclone that is
your arms
and let you in the eye of my hurricane and know
the calm before

and some fall evening
after the cocktails
and the very expensive and very bad
steak served with day-old baked potatoes
after the second cup of coffee taken
while listening to the rejected
violin player
maybe some fall evening
when the taxis have passed you by
and that light sort of rain
that occasionally falls
in new york begins
you'll take a thought
and laugh aloud
the notes carrying all the way over
to me and we'll run again
together
toward each other
yes?
Habits
i haven't written a poem in so long
i may have forgotten how
unless writing a poem
is like riding a bike
or swimming upstream
or loving you
it may be a habit that once acquired
is never lost

but you say i'm foolish
of course you love me
but being loved of course
is not the same as being loved because
or being loved despite
or being loved

if you love me why
do i feel so lonely
and why do i always wake up alone
and why am i practicing
not having to love
i never loved you that way

Untitled
there is a hunger
        often associated with pain
        that you feel
        when you look at someone
        you used to love and enjoyed
        loving and want
        to love again
        though you know you can't
that gnaws at you
        as steadily as a mosquito
        some michigan summer
        churning his wings
        through your window screen
because the real world
        made up of baby clothes                                       to be washed
        food                                                                   to be cooked
        lullabies                                                               to be sung
        smiles                                                                 to be glowed
        hair                                                                    to be plaited
        ribbons                                                               to be bowed
        coffee                                                                 to be drunk
        books                                                                 to be read
        tears                                                                   to be cried
        loneliness                                                            to be borne
says you are a strong woman
        and anyway he never thought you'd really miss him
Introspection
she didn't like to think in abstracts
sadness happiness taking giving     all abstracts
she much preferred waxing the furniture
cleaning the shelves putting the plates away
something concrete to put her hands on
a job well done in a specific time span

her eyes were two bright shiny six guns
already cocked
prepared to go off at a moment's indiscretion
had she been a vietnam soldier or a mercenary
for Ian Smith     all the children and dogs and goodly
portions of grand old trees would have been demolished

she had lived noth long and compeltely enough
not to be chained to truth
she was not pretty
she had no objections to th elies
lies were better than the silence that abounded
nice comfortable lies like    I need you
or    Gosh you look pretty this morning
the lies that make the lie of life real
or lies that make real life liveable

she lived on the edge of an emotional abyss
or perhaps she lived in the well of a void
there were always things she wanted
like arms to hold her
eyes that understood
a friend to relax with
someone to touch
always    someone to touch
her life was a puzzle broken
into a hundred thousand little pieces
she didn't mind being emotionally disheveled
she was forever fascinated by putting the pieces
together     though most times
the center was empty

she never slept well
there wasn't a time
actually
when sleep refreshed her
perhaps it could have
but there were always dreams
or nightmares
and mostly her own acknowledgement
that she was meant to be tired

she lived
because she didn't know any better
she stayed alive
among the tired and lonely
not waiting   always wanting
needing a good night's rest
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