Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Archive for September, 2015

Easy Does It

I say I fall in love
too easily

but really

I am just open
to possibilities

and people are
so easy to love

it is all I can do
to hold it in
that flood
of love
that rushes through me

and I wonder
why I bother

because even
if it overwhelms
even if it swallows
and drowns

it is love
after all

There is no better
way to go

and if we stop
and if we start

we might surf
all the way to shore

Pacific in California. The green room inside of a wave.

(c) RCGA 2015


White Clock Revisited

First Man

I took down the clock
that you hung last year

it had lost a half hour

I kept watching it slow
but didn’t want
to touch it

Today I changed the battery
and reset the time
so now it’s a minute
in the future

instead of dragging
its hands
and fooling me
when I glance at it
into forgetting
how insidious
how easy
it is
to slide backward
to lose time

(c) RCGA 2015

Playing It

There is no such thing

There is no magic spell
or secret hiding place
no arcane shield
or paranormal method

that protects us
in all our aspects
from every harm

But think of this

even if there were
if we were able
in this mortal coil
of breath and blood
to find a way
to be

it would not be living

Only those in between
and that’s just because
they are beyond
true joy or pain
and only carry
the echoes
of those things

If you ask them
they would tell you
is not for us
is not what life is for
leaves you with nothing
but longing
when you watch
from where they are

Death is not
but it has
a plethora

(c) RCGA 2015



When I was little
she was a demigoddess
the breast I fed from
the teacher
the healer of skinned knees
with kisses and songs

When she broke
I didn’t understand
what breaking meant
but I learned
that it meant
pieces scatter
and take people with them
that it meant
lines are drawn
sides taken
and if you don’t choose
your choice is taken

even if you choose
you don’t get
what you wanted

I was the only one there
so she projected
every bit of everything
upon me

all her fears
became mine
by default

I did not own them
but forced into
the indentured servitude
of blood and proximity
I carried them
heavy and foreign
around my neck
her millstone
she was too weak
to bear

He told me that
she needed me
and she did

she needed someone
to hold all the things
she didn’t have room for
as she flew apart

she needed someone
to stand guard at the door
while she disintegrated
curled into a ball
salting the earth
I struggled to grow in

she needed someone
who would never leave her
and ultimately
I was the one
who never did

with the baggage
of years between us
I reached over it
and held her hand
wiped her face
changed the channel
told her stories
as if
she were
my child
of the other way

The morning they called
I knew when the phone rang
because I could feel it

the layers of her
overlaying me
slid away
as gently as her hands
had been
when things were
innocent and good
and no one took sides
or looked into someone else’s eyes
and said

You never loved me

(c) RCGA 2015

Mattie Belle 1931-2010

A little note… she was named for her grandmother, who was known by her nickname, but the name on her birth certificate was Amanda, a name that means “worthy of being loved”. She always wished that had been her name; perhaps she never understood that she was not only worthy, but always loved.

Perfect Mess

Thank you for explaining
the uncomfortable reality

that many people
are afraid
of their own fantasies
becoming real

to the degree
that when a person manifests
who seems too perfect
who fits all those jagged notches
in every puzzle piece
without even trying
just slipping into place

there are kinds of denial
that would float a barge
right through Cairo

So it’s not personal
of course
except that’s it’s the most
personal thing

that someone would
settle for something
because they don’t believe
in their little frightened hearts
that they deserve

(c) RCGA 2015


the model is poised

on the platform
robe slipping
from her shoulder

her mind is distant

from the eyes
translating her outlines
into paint and clay

her skin glows dimly

in a shaft of light
as her drape slithers down
a pool of fabric
caressing her ankles

she is elemental

planetary globes and
rolling hills
the long limbs of trees
and backs of cetaceans
deep valleys
the curve of a falling star

without moving

she moves the muses
agitating all the minds
that guide the hands
of artists
capturing her
within their creations
for just a moment
before she steps down

she walks away

(c) RCGA 2015

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