Tag Archives: time

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College 101

Categories: Poems, Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

holdosi / Pixabay

College 101

Modern Dance, bodies in rhythm to Van Morrison, Enigma.
Great in History. Strongly encouraged to publish all the
spilling words, heartaches, confusions, anger, dreams, worries.
A magic wand in a pen. Alleviate destruction. The destructive.

Nursing an infant while writing essays, studying dates & names
& practicing steps in the apartment hallway. Be somebody, be
somebody, be somebody, hear the beats, not beatings.

Assistant manager, tired eyes, how to get away quicker. Forget
Teaching, MFA hopes. 2 year program ought to do it. Dance, dance,
Keep dancing. Forget the yelling. The handed-over paychecks. Crazy, unrepentant eyes.

Perfect score on Case Brief. Great comments. Mock trial won. Who’s
Mocking you now? Only Him, Time. You’re pressing & pressing against it, that red clock on the wall. Mother given 2 years, won’t take meds. Elmo keeps smiling & Pampers keep piling. Storybooks & tears. Night terrors. Gotta leave, gotta go, can’t stay.

An artist paints you. You run into his arms on a rain-washed night.
So, this is what being made love to is. You think he must be unreal.
After some time, you deliver yourself instead to demons. Grandmother scolds you for leaving, running, learning LOVE. No one is glad for HAPPY.
Except your mother who says Yes, Him. Say Yes to him. You watch him drive away, miles upon miles out of your life. Things collapse. You see
an old college friend, beautiful, smiling, working for some firm. You

Imagine she will marry a lawyer, or become one. You keep thinking poetry, da-dum da-dum da-dum. Drumbeats & heartbeats & fuck the world is always spinning too fast or too slow.

Years pass. Plans unraveled. Maybe a 1 year this time. Appreciate Art, Appreciate Music, your son singing Sinatra with you, how you read from Shakespeare together, whom he calls Shakesbeard. Then you homeschool. He chooses Sylvia Plath from the bookshelf, finds a copy of Anne Sexton’s Collected Poems and brings it home to you, so proud to hand it over. He learns about those women- says “Mama, you won’t ever kill yourself, will you?”

Medicine. Boring. No poetry there, but you make the Dean’s List. You hang your certificate like a rag doll on a coat rack. Everything feels out of place. Hours & hours of studying terminology. All you remember now is Sarco means “flesh.” You stare at your arms & think about it. This makes you remember your RX is due for a refill, as is your life.

-Heather Lenz
March 17, 2016

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Soon

Categories: Art, Poems, Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

photo credit: Heather Lenz

photo by: Heather Lenz

Soon

Who are you to tell me
what I need or who I am? Point out each
supposed flaw

When I am a tree, still & quiet–
barely alive among your wreckage.

You pick my fruit when I feel warm &
leave me barren. It is always winter
when you sit on your throne in my shade

like a winning god who fools everyone. &
you devour all that is left of me, even the sapling,
that once grew beside me.

The lightning in your eyes severs my
branches, those that once reached
toward numerous stars & gathered
windswept rain.

I’ve become rooted in your
corroded soil. I am full of rust now,
stories & wisdom too painful to name.

You go about your days feeding
off the last of me. Soon
I will burn to the ground.

Soon.

& few will know or understand
what started that fire. They will
shake their heads & say

“A damn shame about that odd tree
that stood for so many years”

Then they will probably shake your hand
give their condolences,
& walk away.

-Heather Lenz
Feb. 2016

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So I Thought

Categories: Poems, Tags: , , , , , ,

 

Bonnybbx / Pixabay

 

So I Thought

All years of would-be, could’ve been love-
All of them behind me, some residue of
A dream at the bottom of an abandoned
Wishing Well,

weeds consuming the landscape.
Some shadow of a girl dancing
with light in her eyes.

And you keep treading water, and I keep
sinking downward, never knowing

what to expect in
such dark waves.

I look for coral reefs and
see my reflection in some
old mirror, cracked by time and pressure.

I see I am no Siren, even though my hair
is red and my skin fair, even though

I thought I had enough songs to last me
a lifetime.

-Heather Lenz
January 14, 2016

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Farewell Summer

Categories: Poems, Tags: , , , , , ,

 

nikolapeskova / Pixabay

“The trees shook with wind and suddenly he was looking out of Quartermain’s face, and he knew how it felt to be inside a haunted house, alone.” –┬áRay Bradbury’s ‘Farewell Summer’

Farewell Summer

You press flowers against
Your heart. Empty chambers
long to be filled with

bright constellations,
deep conversations.

The last lonely nights
of summer. Time beats fast,
even when you are still.

& Plath keeps killing herself
in volumes on your bookshelf or
in your hands.

Crows shuffle & caw
with morning coffee as
you forget to get to know
your Self again.

Your child marvels
at future possibility.
You fear he is outgrowing you,
but love spoken calms.

You tether your soul to his,
knot the pain of laboring him
into an angry world.

Like the Bradbury novel
you read, autumn can be heard
stirring all around the
Dandelions.

You can almost see out
from your father’s aging eyes.
Can feel him sighing
in isolated dusk.

-Heather Lenz
2014

This poem was published in Issue 1 of BAD ACID LABORATORIES INC.

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