Another One

“Oh, another one,”
Was the reaction to the news today
It’s become so routine that we’re numbed to the horror
Of all of those lives lost
The hurt and the broken hearts 
And the futures cut short
Imagine the tears and the blood pooling on the ground
And the survivors gagging at the sight of the gory bodies 
Of their friends 
The pain of a community torn apart by the loss
Of children with so much promise
Or maybe not promise but the fact that
They meant something to someone
Death is hard but it’s a hundred times harder
When it comes without warning and 
It is so abrupt and cruel and 
And 
It could have been stopped
But second amendment rights are more important
Than the lives of our children
Am I correct?
Though I still can’t understand why we 
Can’t destroy gun culture when
We have a long history of destroying cultures
Without a second thought 
Jan 29
Della's picture

Nomad


Darling, you can’t keep me

And I always tried to warn you I’ll break your heart

But if you need me

You’ll find me in the mist where the sky meets the sea

If you walk for a year and reach the edge of the earth where it drops off into an ocean of light

I’ll be there too and we can stand side by side and look down at the sun

You can find me in a colorful market selling spices in return for truth

I’ll be in the dungeon of a palace learning the stories of a dying poet

On a hot summer night you can find me on a swaying pier

Kissing a girl with an ancient soul and sunshine hair

I’ll be in the back room of a bookstore

Glueing together the pages of children’s books in search of the meaning of life

I’ll be in your memories of the park swings where we fell in love 

I’ll be everywhere and nowhere and at your bedside when you can’t sleep
Jan 29
Della's picture

Nostalgia

nostalgia 
noun

1) the lump in your throat that doesn’t quite turn into tears



Listening to my summer songs on shuffle

Like unfolding a towel that still smells like the sea

Polaroid photos tacked to the wall

Cheap plastic sunglasses and love letters forgotten in the pockets of jean shorts

Ice cream and canoe races and running on the beach path in the heat of July

The scent of sunscreen and sleepovers

Scraped knees and sun tans
 
Kisses in the woods and dancing barefoot in the middle of the road

Pavement so hot it burns and rowing on the lake

Running on the back roads barefoot at midnight 

Fair rides and romance and shorts on the edge of indiscreet

Garden vegetables and tangled hair and laughter 

So full of life there wasn’t room for anything else

Holding on to childhood as tight as we held each other
Dec 15
Della's picture

Society

Society told me
That being a girl meant 
Pink dresses and long hair
Told me that it meant painted nails
And painful shoes
Makeup and
Starvation
Society told me
That being me wasn’t enough
Told me that I should be an object
An perfect body
With an empty mind
Society told me this
When I was five
When I was six
When I was seven and eight and nine
And when I was ten it took root and made me
Angry
That I wasn’t one of those girls
I was supposed to be
Angry
That this was my future,
A life of feeling insufficient
A life of measuring myself
Against other girls
And that anger grew hotter until it was a flame
I was eleven
I hid my hurt in boy’s clothes
Ran from the stereotypes
Because I could not defeat them
Lied
Because I couldn’t tell the truth
Scorned other girls
Because I couldn’t bear to live as one of them
Sep 28
Della's picture

Waterfalls

Dappled sun that finds its way through the leaves and branches
Draws patterns on my arms, and it is a funny kind of quiet here, the sound
Muffled by the rushing waterfalls
A little chill creeps up my legs and arms and I almost, almost give in to the shiver
Toes curled against the slick moss black rock, here a shard of glass from
A beer bottle someone smashed; some idiot found their way into this sanctuary
Letting my towel fall from my shoulders and taking a tiny step forward
Deep, black water, cliff undercut and waterfalls tumbling down above
A log across one of the falls-I walked it once, slick and terrifying, but only to show off
Now, voices drift to me over the dull sound of the falls, friends coming
I got here first, ran all the way along the narrow path to be the first one in,
And now, they’re here
Better jump, and fast
Body contradicts me, no, no, no, too cold
May 04
poem 1 comment challenge: Crush
Della's picture

Since Forever

I don't know how it happened
I usually plan these things out
I say to myself,
"Yeah, I like him."
And it's decided.
decide who I like.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

But this!
This, I didn't ask for
I didn't ask to be reduced to the state
Of one of those girls I used to despise
Until I understood what it was like
To be tipped upside-down and set
Back on my feet
Stumbling in a futile attempt
To stay upright

I didn't ask for the unplanned,
Rush of adreneline when I see him
For the need to watch the door like a hawk
Until he comes through it
Then act like I was just casually glancing in that direction

I don't want
To have to run for miles until each breath burns
Before I can get the vision of his eyes out of my head
Blue, like fire when it burns the hottest
Don't want to have to write this
To get him out of my head
Apr 11
Della's picture

I Watch Her

I watch her, you know
I can recall every time her smile shattered
And she had to piece it back together
A little more broken every time
I have seen how she tries to shake the dread
Out of the folds of her clothes
To wash it out of her hair
That clinging dread
Of facing another day of living
I remember
The tears that slipped down her cheeks
When she thought no one saw
I have seen her stand still when they screamed at her run
Because running was not enough to escape the fear
That consumed her every time she inhaled a breath of air
The choking fear that she was not enough
I know
The way she stands crooked because she is afraid she does not fit
Into this life
I can see the way she looks at her reflection
Like she doesn't believe she's looking at herself
I watch her, you know
Apr 08
Della's picture

Home Is

Home is
The brook that runs fast
Cold and clear and the rushing waterfall
The deer tracks and the bears
That you can see or hear...if you're not too scared
The wild apple orchard, planted by birds
The fields of golden grass and
The forests deep with springing moss and boulders
And the ruffed grouse...an explosion of wings and pure terror
Until your heart can calm down once more and you laugh it off
The honeysuckle
When cut at the roots
Smells like sadness
But maybe that's because it's the scent I remember
From when I cried until I couldn't see and pulled the shrub up with bare scraped hands
And the scent now reminds me of loss
Maybe that's why I can almost smell it now
And even through my tears I can escape away into the woods and fields
Freezing up to my ankles in the stream
That's what
Home is
Mar 23
Della's picture

These Things I Say Are Not Hateful

I am not being hateful
When I tell you the truth
(It's called being honest)
I am not being hateful
When I remind you of the things
Our President has done to women
I am not being hateful
I am stating facts (and they're not alternative
When I tell you
We could have been so much more
Than this
I am not being hateful
When I tell you we deserve better
We all deserve better
I am not being hateful
You tell me everyone
Makes mistakes
This is true, but
Mistakes are not INTENTIONAL
Those women our President violated-
Do you think that was accidental?
These tears I have cried for my country
They are not tears of hate
They are tears of sadness
Can't you see?
Hate is not my aim
And yet you call me hateful
How could I be hateful
When I have no hate?
This is not hate
But I'll tell you about hate
Hate
Is hurting people
Mar 18
Della's picture

Conversations on the Chairlift

"Spill"
I've been waiting to say it all day
Waiting until we were all alone on the ski lift
Waiting until your brother was well out of earshot
Two chairs behind us
Even though no one could hear us anyway
We still lower our voices
"Tell me everything.  Every single detail."
We look down at the people on the slope
Shout random things at them and dissolve into laughter
Banging our heads against the metal bars
Then
You tell me
Everything
"Lucky"
I tell you
Because you are
We both grin
"True confessions"
You say
And we spill all the secrets
Large and small
That we have accumulated since
We did this last
Over analyze every action of the boys we like
See who can spit the farthest
Argue in jest about nothing
Wonder morbidly what would happen if we were to
f
a
l
l
The long distance to the ground below

Pages