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Erin Hughes Poem
Considering all the do's and don't's
in any given day
To savor all the in's and out's
in every special way
While messing with the up's and down's
to wait for them to bloom
Incorporating low's and high's
expecting them too soon
The stress of all the when's and how's
to labour for the love
The purpose of the then's and now's
to see push come to shove
For all the sense of why's and where's
connecting as they lie
The sureness of the if's and but's
to know there is no 'try'
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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Erin Hughes Poem
April 2 - It's a Wednesday.
This day seems different than most.
There are random thoughts passing through my mind.
Bits and pieces of my past appear in my videomemory.
Complete with smells and emotions from the original experience - at least from what I remember.
Through no prompting what so ever-
and no apparent connection to what is going on in my real time - these thoughts fill my head and heart.
It stirs in me - melancholy, and a yearning,
for what, I can't decide.
It scares me too.
They say that right before you die
your whole life passes before you.
What if that's what I'm seeing?
Each memory is at the same time
independently beautiful yet meaningless.
Together they make up a string
of moments that encircle the throat of my existence.
Some of them are from long ago far away
some are from what seems like yesterday.
My heart feels heavy with a desire
to make a connection between them and me now.
I don't understand how to do that
so I just struggle to feel each one to the deepest part of it. Breathe it in and squeeze the sweetness out.
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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Erin Hughes Poem
dry….my skin, the third week of winter
the desert, on a clear day
dry….your lips, after a thousand kisses
my pockets, while I stood in the rain
dry….your heart, after we made love
that roast, I cooked one Sunday
dry….my eyes, the day you left
the garden, where nothing grows
dry….my bones, without your flesh
the martinis, we made together
dry….the humour, we found in our failure
the vessel, that held our souls
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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Erin Hughes Poem
he collects unlived moments
in clear jars
with tight lids and no labels
he has baggage he will never unpack
on the floor of every closet
dark and silent like moss
He waits for the neighbor
to bring him leftovers - She cooks
like the mother he never had
and the wife he'll never want
he wonders why
the nights bleed to day
and this year has bled him dry
his goal is distant, dim and bitter
but the here is pain and the now regret
and the past is notwithstanding
he wishes he could hope
while he hoped to have wishes
but he feels no gray between the black and white
in each movement forward
there is backward motion
and progress is measured by the love avoided
he looks everywhere but does not see
what he cannot stop from breathing in
“that” which fills his lungs and soul
he longs for something he can not tolerate
desires something that burns him from the inside
tries to hold the very thing his heart rejects
as each unmarked memory and every unfelt touch
haunts him like unpaid bills
he moves through the muck in weighted hip high self-righteousness
he goes because he cannot stop
he breaths because he cannot cry
and he accepts that he cannot feel
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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Erin Hughes Poem
That house that's down the road
the shutters pealed from tears
it's sorry looking roof
regrets not being whole
Inside the wind that blows
is filled with bitter waste
that smells like long lost love
and tastes like cautious joy
The stairs wind round the hearth
and lead to rooms of despair
while windows break from sorrow
and doors hold back the shame
The closets hide the truth
and hallways shed the dark
the basement bears the spirit
while floor boards sink with fear
In day the house does smolder
from past and private pain
at night the house goes cold
in shadows laced with gloom
From downstairs to the top floor
from inside to the out
it stands there, weak and lonely
the house that's down the street
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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Erin Hughes Poem
Being in love with you
was a lot like holding my breath.
At first it was easy,
and really kind of fun.
Then I got light headed
and started to see spots.
It was painful!
and then I thought:
“I'm going to pass out!”
so I stopped.
And now I can breath again!
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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Erin Hughes Poem
If there were two and one was you
in a place where we could love - in lieu.
A time when we were all but fools,
when core and shell both broke the rules
As pain and comfort worked their way,
and life concealed it's shock, dismay!
As flow and ebb filled up the day
to lighten the load so we could stay.
I wish we did not fit together
like bull with horn and bird with feather.
Your heart did change much like the weather,
as I was bound by love - my tether!
So when the chain of waste was broken
and you left me with words unspoken.
The burn was from the fire smokin'!
A tender scar was left, “your token”.
Copyright © Erin Hughes | Year Posted 2005
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