Earth Trembles

I am Earth.
And Traveler,
I can feel you in the twilight

I can feel your steps coming to me
treading to the sound of my heart pounding
crossing mountains

I feel your hands
dark fingers exploring milky crevices
your open palms pressing on the cool and moist

soft face against face
climbing higher
your body strong against me
crossing mountains

I feel your thirsty mouth
drinking from me
and I give more to quench you

I feel your breath
hot, moving swiftly over restless seas
touching me like moonlight on waves
your breath
hungry and humming
heavy and hushed
stirring dust in hot deserts

fields sway like music when you exhale
trees bend low at your impatience
waters swell

the moon moves the tides in my hips
you open your arms and the sun rises in them

ebony shroud blankets white flesh
frost melts away from me
sweet dew, slippery lips on lips

Earth trembles
mountains crumble beneath your gaze
beneath your fingertips

Seas rush in to me
and leave in the sweet rhythm of our selves
your breath, still music,
heavy in the air

Gaia quakes
exposing secret places
dangerous and beautiful

Traveler, I still feel you.

I Dreamed a Shore

I dreamed a shore
where the waves did not go out
the waves did not come in

crests frozen white
sand beneath captured in chaos
not asking to be swept up
not asking to be brought home
or brought anywhere

eternal and hidden
not having known the difference between the surface and the deep
the surface and the darkness
now dancing in the infinite tide that has ceased

hidden
pressed upon by the sheer will of the Moon
released now, in a havoc not understood

and the waves return to where they were first conceived
when I believed
that the tide would rock me gently
and keep the promise of that first rythym

Coming to me
Leaving from me
Coming to me

Arms Open Wide

Heart and arms open wide
Leaping from that mountainside
We landed, wild, in waters calm
And though it hurt, there was a balm.
For in this pool, so strange and new,
You had me and I had you.
I had the moon, you had the sun
One dream ending, one begun
For treading where the water’s deep
The love goes with us when we sleep.
And though swept up in currents strong
We were not alone – but not for long.

For rapids lead to oceans wide
And each of us can feel the tide
That pulls us to a distant shore
Far apart, we swim no more.
Back up the stream-there is no way
And so begins a sadder day.
No climbing up that mountainside
Where once we leapt, arms open wide.

Your absence shall not break my heart
For it was broken from the start
And like a breath, I took you in
Knowing I’d breathe out again.
Best to rest here on the beach
And watch beginnings – out of reach
The endings are so swift, and yet
The start is harder to forget.
For tomorrow can not take away
The feeling we had yesterday.
And now for us I’m hoping for
The courage to still leap once more

The Ocean is Too Big

I see your head above the surface
in the sun’s frenzied rain
that dances on the sea

Moving toward me?

And beyond, a sailboat –like a ghost
Forever sailing
Longing for a shore. Like us.

The Ocean is too big
But still I feel you

The Ocean is too big
And yet I dare to cross each night
Hopeful and exhausted
Drenched in longing
Strengthened and Weakened all at once

I will paint this.

Drip my brush in mercury
Dip my brush in mist
Some marmalade

Some rays of night and sun and summer rain

Dip my brush in all the words that are yet formed

Dip my brush in longing
Then dip again.

Toaster Troubles and ADD

I ran out of matches this morning and I haven’t been able to uncover the secret hiding spot for my lighter—or anything else for that matter – being the perfect poster child for adults who Twitter with ADD. My list of lost items is expanding and now includes my purse, car keys, three shoes, clean clothes, my favorite coat, certain sections of my floor, and on a regular basis – my bed. But back to the matches.

I had none. But I had a toaster. As I leaned my face dangerously close to the pink-hot elements to light my cigarette, I began to ponder this appliance – REALLY ponder-- asking myself just how I felt about it. (This has become a recent and bizarre habit of mine – examining objects to see if I have an opinion about them that can be expressed in 140 characters or less. And one way or another, I usually do.)

But, I digress. Back to the toaster. As I peered down into the slightly-scorching slot, I recalled that the sales clerk offered me an extended warranty on this little sucker. Should I have bought an extended warranty?

The toaster is called a “Perfect Toast Moulinex” -- not a bad name in the world of small appliances, even if it is a little heavy-handed with the promises. “Guru of toasters! Toaster Wizard! Expert at Toasting! Toasting Media Sensation!” You’ve seen it all before. This “perfect-toast” four-slicer is wide and white – which not only makes for a nice alliteration but describes me quite nicely, as well. Into these spacious slots one can fit shamelessly thick bagels and homemade slices of bread. It also saves energy by turning off the elements you are not using. Imagine! Why, that one environmentally friendly feature alone could probably save you enough energy to leave the water on while brushing your teeth – once.

But there is a problem with this little baby. It toasts so very slowly that I find I am transported back in time trying to recall a science project I did so I can hook the thing up to a couple of potatoes and really see some action. Unless I have something important to do -- like edit a four page essay down to a 140 character tweet-- I wouldn't even think about popping in a doughy treat like an English muffin, which must be cooked to a golden brown before that little starchy carbohydrate can be soaked in butter. And talk about lighting cigarettes! Well that simple event can take all day. Never mind the occasional cigar.

Yes, I admit I smoke. It’s a horrible habit and one which I plan to give up as soon as I have the desire to gain 15 more pounds, which will also deter me from devouring those thick-sliced doughy things smothered in fat. But back to the toaster.

I had owned this toaster for three years before I discovered you could remove the crumb tray. Let me describe:

There are two little slots at the bottom of the toaster which I thought were for carrying the thing around, if one was so inclined. But lo and behold, I recently discover while taking the toaster for a brief stroll around my kitchen, that it is NOT in fact equipped with handles but rather with crumb-tray removers! (This experiment in toaster-toting, by the way, left me pondering how I felt about my broom – but that for another day.)

Well, you can imagine how heaping with sludge this crumb tray was. And not just filled with crumbs! I found a cigarette in there too! I was so excited, I searched the inner workings of other appliances for my lighter, car keys, and purse, my smallest child — but to no avail.

The whole point is that modern toasters are not like the ones I remember from my youth. Back in the day, you could roll up some newspaper, stick it in and watch it catch fire when you ran out of matches. All in all, it’s a disappointing owner-appliance relationship.

Would I recommend buying an extended warranty for the Perfect Toast Toaster? No. You would never want the recalcitrant thing to last a day beyond what is absolutely essential. I am heading this very moment to dumpster-dive for a really efficient cigarette-lighting toaster. Now, if I could just find my car.