Cornelia St Night

Some of My Own Poetry, Before & After Seeing Friends Read @ Cornelia St. 

Promise
Promise of a future
What it is supposed to be.
The world without bombs and violence
The 60s redux without the love
Bullets and shrapnel
I promised to only love books
I promised to be the one friend to stay
To look beyond your bipolarity
And bad breath
Promises to myself cannot be undone
And fidelity is stronger than wisdom
Unfortunately

I'm glad the Dead are Dead
My father loved Patriots day
He'd get us up at 6am
To watch the bobbing of muskets
The smell and shape of gunpowder
Acting like theater
Acting like a reenactment
Of a violent gesture
Done for noble causes
History as propaganda
What is a parade, but a marathon
In slow motion
And with in funnier costumes
Test of endurance
And drums
Heart pounding
Hand clapping
Of families and friends
And friends of families
Waiting to give
The hug at the finish line.

When lilacs last in the courtyard bloomed
And April was the miracle of nature
Nothing yet washed away by rain and tides and wind
The sandy hurricane
Rearranging the shorelines of our lives

When I dreamed of your mother
Flying to my window
Asking me to take care of you
When I believed in Love
Altruistic and rich in openness
Finally, my honesty had found a home.

What I have Learned from you
That souls open themselves
A flash of light
Or the flash of a raincoat
Let me show you me
Something I find holy
But you will run screaming.
I dare you to be unimpressed.

I stayed.
It's not the mountains it's the coast.

I keep the conversations.
The emails,
Everything that you routinely delete on your end
I keep the memories
Because you throw them away.
Because of your amnesia.
It's not the man, but it's the ghost.


SEEN NEAR WASH SQ PARK: "JAWN"- Philly Slang for {noun}