Posts Tagged ‘love’

Love List

May 26, 2009

I love that I have one child left who still wants me to kiss her goodnight.
I love a sky that is heavy with snow.
I love telling myself that good things are just around the corner.
I love how solving crosswords will make me lose track of time.
I love a sandy beach and the feeling of the sun on my skin.
I love counting my blessings.
I love falling asleep.
I love that little catch in Patsy Cline’s voice when she sings “Crazy”.
I love having debates about religion.
I love looking up at the sky at night and realizing the stars have moved since I looked at them two hours before.
I love a full moon, when it seems to take up half the sky.
I love the music in a young girl’s voice.
I love how I never tire of laughing at Inspector Clouseau movies.
I love my teeth, now that I had them straightened.
I love watching a pelican glide a foot above the water.
I love talking about memories with old friends even though we’ve told the same stories for years about our wild youth.
I love that I get one more year to act silly with my 11 year old daughter, before she gets embarrassed by me.
I love that I can talk to someone from Brazil or China through the Internet.
I love looking at the way girls on the beach stand a certain way when they know boys are looking at them.
I love that I discovered positive thinking in college.
I love the taste of chocolate.
I love hugs.
I love to watch my son play basketball.
I love to tell older women they look terrific.
I love the prospect of another day.
I love that I’m still here.


Speak To Me

May 15, 2009

You hoard your words like a thin-lipped miser,
as if you’re afraid of spending your treasure,
and being left empty pocketed.
I try to pull them out of you, cajoling like a carny barker,
trying to separate you from your cash.
Who told you that words
were to be doled out like quarters, one at a time?
I’m an interviewer trying to coax the answers out of you;
an attorney cross-examining.
Should I give you truth serum?
Just once I’d like to see you open up your wallet,
spend some of your words.
Don’t you know you can’t take them with you when you’re gone?

I spend my words recklessly;
like I just won the lottery.
I’m lavish with them, I’m generosity itself.
I’m always chatting, yakking, talking, confabulating, blabbing, gassing, nattering, palavering. I’m promiscuous with my words,
I use them in dangerous combinations, I throw them like glittering coins into the fountain and make wishes with every sentence.
Ask me a question and I’ll give you three different answers.
My stories never end.
I go on too long, I know. People’s eyes glaze over.
I can’t help it, I’m word crazy, and
I can’t turn it off.
So I keep talking, fighting against the silence, filling up the air
between us with torrents of words.
Enough for both of us, and more.
Don’t mind me, I’m just talking to myself.
It’s better than silence; at least I think so.
Only sometimes, I wish you would answer.
I wish you would throw me a penny or two from your fortune of words.
I’m spending all of mine, you see.
Some day maybe there won’t be any left;
And then you’ll have the bankruptcy of
silence to
comfort you.