by Chris Vaillancourt
It's been the storm
rising on my windows.
Washing my thoughts
into a leafy garden.
I stand there,
wet and shattered
and I hear
silences.
Empty pockets of gloom.
I smell regrets
and worse,
guilt in the flesh.
Uncertainty in the soul.
It's been the end
when it began.
I shiver
cold and indifferent.
Whispers all the rage.
I whimper
drinking wine
from silent straws
and touching nobody.
Only silences and whispers.
Only memories and tomorrows.
It's been like hell
driving on this
thought-wave.
Cruising past renovations
and contemplating the
storms of past tomorrows.
I hear promises and
shallow sunsets.
Empty holes in
empty coffee cups.
The kettle is boiling.
No one is there
to drain it.
It's been another day.
This I knew
at the onset.
So I turned and grew
into silences.
Strong whispers
tasting
the fires of the night.
November 29, 2009
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2009
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November
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- WHEN I GET HER LETTER
- Flowers are for Pansies
- These Nails Cause Me To Hesitate
- Fires Of The Night
- What Sign of Absence?
- I REMEMBER HAIFA BEING LOVELY BUT
- WAR
- advice to the newly divorced
- memorial day at the twisted parrot
- christmas
- ritual respect
- peach tree
- '61 was a hell of a year
- Black Maps
- On Relationships
- like yeats
- Booty Duty
- Before He Goes Bare
- IMAGINING HER
- reaction to the evening news
- The Jazz Musician
- Grounded
- THE CHOCOLATE COVERED STRAWBERRY
- THE DAMP KISSES WE WILL NOT HAVE
- TODAY I WANT TO SPIT GIGILO AT HIM
- LIKE GETTING THAT NOTE MONTHS AFTER
- Yellow Snow
- Ball-N-Chain
- First Tulip
- New Things
- The Art of Forgetting
- THE PHOTOGRAPHS, THE FILMY WHITE GAUZY CURTAINS
- The Hammer Gets Thrown Out Again
- The Real Me
- Conflict
- What I should have done
- NOT ONLY DID HE
- SUDDENLY IT’S WHAT I THINK OF
- All So Easy
- THE DREAM OF MY DEAD GRANDMOTHER’S HOUSE, THE STRA...
- THE TOO DARK TUNNEL OF A HALLWAY DREAM, DESPAIR, T...
- Brain Of Hitler
- One Day After Work
- The First Hooker (or Dead Eyes In Chicago)
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- hungover
- AFTER TOO MANY NIGHTS DRUGGED
- “IN THE VIOLET HOUR” ON A PAGE, MAYBE IN A POETRY ...
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