A bit about me



Beyond Today

He’s not weak or undone; life’s forgiving
his sins as he trespasses on her heart
unintentionally. Blue eyes open,
tongue dry and still dancing with sharpened wit,
his ease with the world and words riles.
 
Distance works its magic to suspend time,
remove her from the past – and the future.
Adrift between the two, she hears his voice
whisper, smells the scent of him in a breeze,
and feels his warmth beside her in the bed.
 
Drunk on memory, she closes green eyes
damp with tears from dreams asking for release.
Life overflows with possibilities;
tempts her to look beyond today with hope.
 
 
Siobhan
03.01.10

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Remain in the Moments

She cannot remain in all the moments
of yesterday, craving as she does, warmth
in today. She knows her tomorrow is
just a blink beyond her sight, patiently
biding time until her mind clears of thought
and she merely feels her way into it.

Stars hidden behind clouds once bleak and cold,
an omen of pain unending, break free.
She greets the morning as they fade away;
promises of future clarity shine
in their shadows as the sun takes over
the sky. Streaks of red and gold in azure
highlight the possibilities ahead –
she wakes, finds love stirring inside again.

Siobhan
12-26-09


Flight from Denver

Seated at a small table in the cold
airport, sipping a glass of wine, nibbling
toasted ravioli she does not want,
the woman waits – her future balancing
at the boundary of his arrival gate.
Don’t borrow trouble, before it steps in
to your life…
his voice echoes off the wall,
recalls years before, when they were happy –
yes, those times did exists. She’s insistent
even when he tosses doubt into her
memories; she cherishes the glimpses
of love she found in his kisses, his touch –
then lost when the flight from Denver landed.

Composure her trademark, she holds back tears.

Siobhan
12-17-09


 

Words
 
For us, words have been both weapon and salve.
They’ve been tender strokes of passion and love;
served as tools of destruction and sorrow.
I cherish the former, mourn the latter. 

We used them to pledge – to hold and to have;
tossed them back and forth, dropped them from above
as bombs aimed at maiming, tried to borrow
time with them as if it did not matter
 
how the other felt at that moment. Lost
with deaf ears and broken hearts, our words fought
battles neither of us could win – the cost
too grand for either. If only we’d sought
 
each other, perhaps we would not be here –
oceans apart while still so very near.
 

 
Siobhan
12/7/09


Inside My Heart
 
I work through the pain – realization
that yesterday was and today is and
tomorrow truly never comes around.

And if we were to reach tomorrow, what
would be waiting for us? While this baggage
will fade into a memory – will it
disappear? Unlikely. It could become
the chain that binds – and yet separates – us.
A precious reminder of what was; what
we had, who we were once upon a time …
unrealized potential still silent.
 
Quietly, inside my heart, I hold on
to the memories, to the tenderness,
to love that still breathes as life goes on.

 
Siobhan
12/2/09


Boxed Angels

I do not question that love was the strength
that kept us together and will, in ways,
keep us together ever – and then some.
 
We reached heights I had never imagined;
lows I only feared in nightmarish dream
when the past wrestled with our present life.
 
No fingerprints can be found on the point
when poison took control of heart and mind,
pushed irrationality in between.
 
I collected angels for a long time,
perhaps hoping for peace and renewal,
a place away from where we found ourselves.
 
They’re all packed in boxes now, and like them,
we wait to be lifted to life again.
 
 
Siobhan
11-24-09


Hold On To Memories

She stands at the window, watches shadows
stretch out across the street and hide the past,
confuse the future, mix them together
until neither is clear any longer.

Eyes flutter shut as she relives his touch.
With the breath of a sigh, she’s reminded
of sensations he tantalized her with –
his whispered caresses and soft kisses.

Wavering between the new moon and full,
her imagination flows with the tide.
The pull in the pit of her belly draws
on the remnants of desire, passion
she hasn’t forgotten, doesn’t want to.
She holds on to memories – and the truth.

Siobhan
11-20-09

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