all poetry copyright Sheryl McCurdy 2001-present
Washing Out To Sea
|
GONE ALREADY
Somewhat hesitant in the loving
And too damn eager to slam out
Walk jauntily into the blue sky of anonymity
Beyond the incessant lullabies of pounding feet
No pattering that but
Hard crashing of clogs barreling down narrow wooden hallways
Screams of orgasmic delight next door
Smells of the fetid meat market too long lingering and shifting shadows of you
Perched on a couch checkered with ejaculatory emissions and pizza
Smoking
Your gray eyes already traveling I 80 in escape
———————————————
Big and Empty
somehow I got
this far
midnight crescent moon lit walks beside the point
until yesterday I thought I was
doing okay
doing without
but now I feel like
like an echo’s
echo
merely a shadow beneath the blinding sun
bleached out
drained and left out
for the wind to blow
me like a man made
plastic Walmart bag
dancing alone across the
big and empty
fields outside my home
TOO LOOSE
I’ve been undone time and again by you
Unlaced, unwrapped and untied
Left out in the open too damn many times
Until I can’t help but finger the frayed edges of my sanity while wondering
Whats left now except
The end of unraveling
S McCurdy
SECRETS OF A MANIC QUEEN
I learned to play hearts in the psych ward
But only after I suffered the initiation my student nurse crispy whites requred
A bald schizophrenic tagged my correctly as new meat
Accused me of wanting to castrate him since birth
Then threw a ceramic ash tray across the room
Skipped it across the black and white checked floor like he was playing hopscotch
The spinning disc landed beside a woman exhibiting tardive dyskinesia who was licking her face
She stopped for a moment startled then gradually melted into a seriers of tics
I responded to the accusation with a hearty “I do Not!” I’ve seen enough balls this month to last me a lifetime!
(just completed my rotation in urolgy thank you very much)
The bald one satisfied slumped away caressing his jewels and demanding a smoke
A manic depressive to my left beamed and expansively shared with me How the queen of England taught him to play hearts.
MORNING CUP
well past 6am I study the sky
percolating;
coffee beans ground and donuts frosted
now there is time to watch pink and lavender dawn
beneath the edge of night
the moon totters heavily toward the West as I sit
hands warming around a thin lipped cup
the newspaper folded neatly to my right
alone, I raise my glass and toast the break of day; sip gaze sigh
——————————————-
Wanting Warmth or Dancing Light
Do the bones of the earth
Long for quivering flesh
Once again
Aching for the solid comfort
To be wrapped in warmth
Or do they dance light and free
Embracing the coolness
Without envy
Under the dark sky
Beating the tombs as drums
——————————————
LAUNDRY
Though obscured by panes of cotton sheets
Harnessed between the ancient elms
I knew that silhouette
Mother hanging laundry in March winds
Head bent to the task
Mouth pursed about wooden clips not Marlboro
I did not help but hid and stared instead
Smelling the clean bleached day
Watching the billows of our bedding engulf her
Snapping and cracking like a whip
—————————————–
Good Deed
Although spent from our bike ride
we stopped at a road side stand, ate warm melon,
spat seeds between the spraddled legs of Aunt Bertie
who sold us fry bread from her cart,
and loaded peppers into her empty shed
———————————————–
FROM AUTUMN TO WINTER
Together we have walked along the dry gutters
Where small children once floated paper boats
After the spring rain showers
Together we have crunched the leaves of the naked trees collecting there
Waiting for the kiss of the November breeze
We talked of the price of gas, the coolness of the day, and everything
Except us and the fact that we were as dry and lifeless as the curling foliage
We tromped through by the side of the road
Sometimes we walk in silence for days
A narrow wooden beam we quietly balance on
Nodding slightly as we pass one another for weeks
Then suddenly we realize that time has been vacuumed away
And the gutters are brimming with winters snow
Not the dry crispness of autumns falling leaves
————————————-
TOO SOON THE SUN DOES SET
November sunset comes too soon
The ancient ones become restless
Greedy for the gold and pink stripes of august nights
Craving them like candy
Their eyes glaze
Their bodies lean into the durable medical equipment of choice
Melding into a single snail pace movement
Aching bones and bewilderment etched
In deeply lined faces
They traverse to the commons room
Where Halloween puzzles have been abandoned
Half finished jack o lanterns stare up from the table winking
Confused, the elderly parade continues
Now under the wing of �that nurse�
She steers them to their appropriate rooms
Reorients as best she can
Then leaves them safely tucked under flowered quilts and velour blankets
Cursing the sunset of November nights
———————————————
Border Unbound
O’ that dive through pink!
eyes drawn toward the seam of the sky
dawn
never does conform
offers up new hope
each morn one wakes to face the maze
life
filled with dreams we gird with shadows at the midnight hour
O’ they do twinkle now!
clean, brand new
bright
visions once a sputtering fizzle
begin, at break of day, to brew
—————————————-
SHE CAN’T SING ANYMORE
She doesn’t comb her hair
Wears black shawls with foot long fringe
Swinging
Opens the dumpster for scraps of life
To convince her of reality
I wonder about her sanity
Relish the glimpse I have of her childish abandon
Linger when she arrives to inspect my recyclables
Wish I were her for a day
She dances at midnight alone
Beneath the streetlights
Mothlike
Fluttering in a soft black shawl
Muttering
The words to an unknown song
I wish I knew her better
Wish I knew that tune
She walks in the heat of the day
Wrapped in layers of wool
Looking for something or someone
And I can’t stop wondering
Who she was and what she did
Before her song
Became a toneless humming
————————————–
DECEMBER 27
Two nights after Christmas
We lay flat out on the
Cold pavement watching
Ten o clock moonlight
Chase strings of clouds
Across the sky and wide open eyes
Full of wonder
Gazing until the numbness pressed too
Tightly upon our bodies then we
Rose stiffly to stagger inside
Tingling in painful warmth we talked of miracles and
Drank hot chocolate brewed in our home
Humming with electricity
———————————————-
meditations for the restless soul
Utter silence captivating
beating heart muffled
silence pulsing through veins
like golden
balm soothing butter
smoothing screaming pains away
salve for the restless soul
volume way down low
waters tuned to a faint babble
silence settles like a shawl about the shoulders
a heady scent in humid air
pressing but not oppressive
warmly protecting
encased in cotton batting
floating in a boat moonless at midnight
drifting amid clouds of quiet
cog wheels slowing to a crawl
empty as an overturned vat
spilling water drip by drip by drip
until all a puddle
evaporating then joining
peaceful clouds set adrift
utter silence muffled pulse
ultimate Bliss
——————————–
FROM A DISTANCE
Every last dream that was ever dreamed
Started its journey from the bottom of an endless sea
Rose to the surface struggling through the currents fighting to breathe
Wanting to live
Newborn and clinging to the wild white caps of water yet,
Unafraid
Hopes and wishes of mightier seas were still its aspiration
Blindly trusting someone to pluck it from the dangerous waters and gift it wings
From a distance all bob and curl on the turbulant waves much the same
Some that will be soaring to greater heights and
Others that will swirl into oblivion, and slowly sink
—————————–
I am melting
I have been longing for the candy air
That once tasted so sweet
To me
Of lilacs and cut grass and rain
Though
I cannot turn off my brain
The clickity clack clickity clack
Wheels turning all the long night and all the dragging day
I smell smoke
And the hint of a winter killing frost
The taste of burning
Does not go away
I am melting
Like the wicked witch of OZ
Slipping lower and lower
A puddle on the floor
Anticipating the fiery sun star
To boil and then evaporate
Me
———————
Still No More
Once
Delicate
Scallops of ripples
Flounced across quiet waters
Kissing the sandy banks and then
With a flirty toss began again to
Undulate sinuously returning
Occasionally revealing the
Pearly underside of
Her wave
Once
And now
Delicate turns
Choppy and
Churning
And roiling
Boiling beneath the
Surface
Frothing in a murderous rage
A whirlpool
Twisting around and around and around
Trapping the calm
Inside
Caged by a wall of icy breakers
Threatening to crash
Upon
Shores once sandy smooth
Now strewn
With the remains
Of a silent soul
Still now
Not by choosing meditation
But paralyzed
By
Grief
And fear and
Retrospection
——————————-
Refresh My Soul
Daydreaming…nodding head and sigh
whispered dreams of paradise
fasten to the heavy lidded eye
Lush grasses moist with dew part for feet that wander through
Until at last amazed to see Edens Garden come to view
Pausing awestruck eyes alight on pool of clear cerulean sky
Lustrous pearl of glowing delight – grasses flowers and trees on every side
Heavy laden stocked with luscious blooms,ripened fruits and seeds
Hark – a fish jumping out the pond arching silvery back and looks as if to wink and say ‘welcome to my garden. I hope you’ll stay and play’
Soft the breezes blew – enough to cool the brow
Reeds did whisper near the shore a haunting soulful tune
Sandy beaches white with grains were silky smooth to feet
Hollow logs were placed in perfect line of view of sunset warmly melting yellow orange against cerulean blue
Slip into the water naked as a newborn babe
Feel the lap of water warm as toast in sun and coolly fresh in shade
Swim or float or dive in shining water sky
Rise from waters edge to feel blossom scented cooing winds kissing skin til dry
Then – starry sky will light a path through orchards lacey trees
Leading back those souls refreshed and plump with joy from new awakening
————————-
Once Upon A Prairie
Hair thin, wheat bleached
Standing tall under the Nebraska sun
Ramrod tall she was all bone
And sinew strong
Made for holding toddlers in
Check and pinning clothes
On lines between gnarled trees
Hoeing gardens and hauling water
From the creek a mile away
The sun is so thirsty in Nebraska
She scowled at the haze
Rising each day to scorch
Hopes for dewy mornings into submission
One day she cooked breakfast for the children, her man
Washed dishes and pulled her sheaf of hair
From under a brimmed hat
Walked outside and dove into the long grasses
Wave after delicious wave in the wind
She swam
———————————–
Remaining Wild
Deep inside the prairie grasses
There lives my heart
Roaming free
Wild beneath the wings of hot breezes
Basking beside the shores of winding creeks
Pressed against the mossy banks beside the willows
High above the furrowed fields beating in the breast of the eagle
Even in despair even then, you will find me there
When the days are white with heat and shimmer and dance with a life of their own
When day after day the same old dusty ballets are performed
When the cedar trees are wailing under the burning of the searing gusts
When the dying corn bends toward wilting knees praying for the rain
Even then, even then
My wild prairie heart will remain
————————————–
GONE ALREADY
Somewhat hesitant in the loving
And too damn eager to slam out
Walk jauntily into the blue sky of anonymity
Beyond the incessant lullabies of pounding feet
No pattering that but
Hard crashing of clogs barreling down narrow wooden hallways
Screams of orgasmic delight next door
Smells of the fetid meat market too long lingering and shifting shadows of you
Perched on a couch checkered with ejaculatory emissions and pizza
Smoking
Your gray eyes already traveling I 80 in escape
———————————————
Big and Empty
somehow I got
this far
midnight crescent moon lit walks beside the point
until yesterday I thought I was
doing okay
doing without
but now I feel like
like an echo’s
echo
merely a shadow beneath the blinding sun
bleached out
drained and left out
for the wind to blow
me like a man made
plastic Walmart bag
dancing alone across the
big and empty
fields outside my home
———————————–
MAGIC MOON DUST PERHAPS
Frequently I am startled to find myself awake
Fumbling in the darkness
To escape the ghosts
Tripping merrily in my room
I rise up from the bed
My pink nightgowns soft hem dusting
The Seventeen creaking stairs
As I make my way down them
This scene is so familiar
The soft moon glow
Gleaming white and cool
Outlining the curtains
Illuminating my children
Twisted in their innocent dreams
Hair awry and the sweetness of their lashes
Against their apple red baby cheeks
The incessant drone of the attic fan
Reminds me of the crickets
And then I think
It was sucking up great big gulps
Through the open windows
As if starving for a breath of freshness
Then spilling it out to settle wherever
And I wondered if that was the problem
All that fine lightness in the house
And me breathing it in
Filling up my lungs with the moon rays powdery talc
Magical dust that was trying to transport me
Into the evening sky
I could almost feel my feet lift off
For the tiniest moment… in flight
=================================
CARRIED AWAY ON SPIRALS OF SMOKE
Lifting push pins
releasing snapshots from the old wall
curling memories flutter
like butterflies in a breeze
and they fall
they fall
to the floor
like so many leaves
on a crisp Autumn day
feet shuffling through
and then raking into a pile
they burn
they burn so well
a tiny spark growing to a fiery blaze
sending out a pungent smell
finding a way to escape
that scent carries me along
on those spirals of smoke…
to a place I once belonged
============================
Remembrance
Well, the dreams don’t help any
Fully colored
Livid
Sharp as a brand new scar
On flesh
Keloids
You
Don’t know
How jagged
You
Left me
My skin
Will never be the same
=================================
SHE DIED QUIXOTIC
She wanted only the brightness of chandeliers to welcome her home
not the thick dark molasses shadows that greeted and held her fast
caught up in sticky claws reminding
no one is here for you
you are alone
struggling seemed too difficult
better to lie still under a thick blanket of longing and loss
morose with the weight of doom swathing a black path across her dying heart
give in and let flames consume her shriveled soul
she would never know the mystique of her demise would be nothing more than a sad glance in the morning paper
‘Ahh perhaps she had a terminal illness’ some would say, explaining her early departure from the kink they liked to call life, as they read the obits, and tossed down black coffee, kissed the wives sped down highways to upper class offices, had affairs with the deciduous secretary of choice on long lunches, came home late to supper with 15 minutes to bond with the 2.5 kids they had planted deep in the belly of the high school homecoming sweetheart who exonerated her husband at her monthly woman’s club meetings with all the members approval because:
He provides so well and actually who needs all that sex anyhow…really it just frees one up!
she would never know her dreams were just on the edge of the neon horizon waiting to burst forth in a painful birth
this was a poem based on 10 words given my Mark Stolk
quixotic,swath,uppish,morose,chandelier,deciduous,mystique,
exonerate,kink,molasses
Thanks Mark for the brain exercise…I don’t feel so flabby now!!
=========================================
Tears In Glass
I remember well that cold flat gray
The outstretched arms of our silvery leaved elms
Heavy with a mist
Unseasonably clinging to roof tops
We sang out Olly Olly Over in voices
Thin yet, with childish glee
We on the teetering edge of outgrowing such games
Pretending enjoyment for now and sometimes concealment of such
I remember too well that day
Age has not dimmed my memory of mothers startled gasp
The fear sinking my eyes down to the tips of my curling toes
She reached out her hand to steady and perhaps soften the news of your death
Her hand smelling of the onion she was cutting for the soup that day
I could not cry
I could not cry
My grief was too deep for public viewing
Inside and alone I spoke your name to the mirror
Tracing an imaginary path in the glass across my cheek
==============================
Mend Me No More
whenever did the end come
and why didn’t I know
and where was I
and where do I go
from here
does the broken part of me
that was
does it ever…
does it ever…just become
whole again
or is it replaced
with cracks and bridges
and tape
and wishful thinking
and…pain
I want no more of this
leave me
shattered and torn
in pieces
scattered across the floor
I want no more of this
I want no more of this I say
just go
mend me no more
===============================
I Am So Unaware
entering soft blackness
eyes open
gasping inside for air
the light of a rosy dawn
kisses my cheek
I am so unaware
greeting the neighbors
without a blink
shadows have filled me
and left me cold
the blood of my body
slows
I work without knowing how
everyone around me is so unaware
a corpse walks in their midsts
tentacles of ebony
shoot through my skin, my veins, my bones
securing themselves to my soul
then even prying open that
crawling into and spinning
a silent choking web
throughout
I am so unaware
and do not seek to leave this cocoon
that will become my final downy bed
but put down my head and slog
turning from gossamer silk
to impermeable stone
=====================================
Nerve Root Exposed
a scar
a nick
a dent
time chipping away
the seed. . . long ago spent
now flat
hollow insides
dry
flaking
chaff in the wind
~
a flight?
an escape?
a death?
a choice to be made
~
eating enamal
nerves exposed
pain and
more
pain
now for then…and then
for now
========================
Airplanes, Fountains and Blowflies
I noticed a black speck of something
at his gumline near his left incisor
Don’t you floss? I wonder as he leers
answer to this silent query
no surprise when the smell of his breath
hits my face
…an airplane made of beer cans circles over my head
CAPTAIN ARE YOU IN THERE?
circling always circling in fetid air
an unwilling witness to all that happens here
Free to fly but tied to ever circling plane in fetid air
Irony so painfully clear
Greasy hair pokes my eye
concentrate!… Will it to go blind
Neon lights glow on and
off and on
spotlighting a hanging fountain
dripping foul water
Drops of oil glisten on threads
strung around its parameter
watch them climb the strings then . . . drip . . . drip
caged in by times oily grip
Neon light flashes off then on
then off
Blowfly lands on the corner of mouth
washing his face relentlessly
obsessive even in this ritual cleansing
before leaving for greener pastures – Mondays sandwich
I think…or Thursdays leftovers…
A doll stares unwavering
eyeless sockets her only anomoly
waiting patiently for pink dresses, ribbons and a tea party
ever faithful, blind to lifes travesties
Over head circling and circling an airplane
flies but never soars
fountain drips foul waters
neon sign flashes – shining on a hopeful face
and a blowfly washes…washes…washes
==============================
Cancer Is So Artsy
what kind of poetry
do cancer cells mouth to the gathering crowds?
what kind of dance?
what type of painting?
maybe a Picasso wannabe
what sound?
wind chimes, one melodic bar striking another and then another
dominos
following a haphazard
pattern less
random musical score
the sounds of harmonicly challenged notes
=============================
Refresh Button
button your lip
tightly
for you don’t need to
speak to the Lord
she’ all alone in her upside down house
basking in the startled gaze of the angels I believe
there is nothing on earth so vivid as the sight of that party
except for the patch of sunlight that perches across your hair
you seem unwise to the ways of this world you might be scolded
unaware of the beauty of letting those words fall into your ears
downy thoughts unhinge open fly from your eyes don’t they just wish
you could put life into them and let go
there seems to be a controversy about the way some people use their space
================================
SURROUNDED BY DEBRIS
I see you
you see me
we meet, greet on the street
and a fine sift of red haze
settles over our backs
our face
getting into my eyes
I rub it away
gritting my stained teeth and leave
backward glancing I weep
for me
no other way to say it
I see you from inside
you see me from a distance
but undercover i think
can No one else feel
glass shards spun into cotton candy
biting back
a dust cloud follows me
turning my vision into mud
tugging at my walking legs
quicksand
running to escape
I fall (just like the movies)
and i am surrounded by swirling debris
I decide to lay there and take it
as it comes
barely flinching as I am clubbed
==============================
An Infant Cried But Once
living for many months
fourteen
in the sewers stench and filth
hiding
many were saved by an anguished mother
killing
her newborn child one night
stilling
that constant hungry cry then
placing
the tiny lifeless body
gently
atop the group of stiffening corpses
silently
she screamed while standing alone
watching
the floating raft of dead drift by
cradling
her babe in the arms of death
rocking
in an icy bed her son
sailing
black waters underground
quieter
beneath the ghetto streets
quieter
now the crying babe has gone
never will a babies
wailing
sound the same again
to me
Inspired by an article about people living in a sewer to escape Hitler soldiers…for 12-14 months. A woman had her baby there…and you saw how it ended…
=========================================
Longing For Warmth; Bread.
the dank odor of a cellar greets me
as I open the door
lonely for warm bread
I open some crackers and put them on the edge of the window
maybe the sun will come out today
maybe the whole damn place will smell of home baked fresh
maybe a Thanksgiving dinner will appear on a long table
surrounded by laughing people who toast one another
and a child will ask for a leg
and everyone will laugh
and give him the prize
and his eyes will open pure wide
maybe Christmas lights will glitter like diamonds
and everyone will be dressed in warm burgundy clothes
their hands wrapped around a glass of cider
someone will be playing the piano
we gather and sing carols
arms around shoulders in friendly brotherly love
maybe the doorbell will ring to the giggles of children
dressed in outlandish garb
begging for treats with bags open wide
and I’ll pretend to be scared
and hand out candy apples and popcorn balls
and no one will refuse
because everyone knows I make the best treats
and they will thank me
and I’ll sit by the fireplace because it’s a little chill
and my dog will lay by my feet
and I’ll read a book of poetry
waiting for the bell to ring again
maybe I’ll just sit on a cardboard box by the window
watching a package of crackers
waiting for the sun
=============================
