Ever since I wrote this post, people around me have been finishing their sentences with “pa-rum-pa-pum-pum” and attempting to “celebrate me” places. In an effort to stem and turn such unforgiving tides, I come bearing gifts.
Here are 3 original poems, with 3 songs interspersed. I wrote the poems; they are meant to stand independent of the songs, as a series of short vignettes, with winter as the common backdrop and inspiration for all of them in some way.
[**Please note that a poet and a biographer are not always the same thing. But that every poem I write is, in some way, deeply personal.]
I.
Your sweater is here on the chair
Just as you left
Arms dangling
With no one to hold
I shiver and ignore it
A needle tickles vinyl gently
Scraping away at memories
Treble clefs evaporate
Like smoke from cigarettes
I leave lights on to fall asleep
Clasping hands together
As if in prayer
I stroll with you
Through deep woods and dreams
To talk for hours about
The world we belong in
You kiss me and I remember
The scratch of worn wool
Your affinity for argyle
And the winter we never had
II.
You and I build men of snow
Crafting with care each rounded belly
And bosom and head
One atop the other
While we discuss the finer points
Of coal eyes and modern warfare
Rushing inside with pink cheeks
I realize I love the way you look
For carrots and buttons
Pressing them together in our palms
We make our noses touch
And consider the merits of igloos
III.
Herald angels sing
By the fireplace
Warming their hands
Discerning foreign tongues
And the contents of casseroles
A sleeping child in their midst
Whose hands once cradled
The rising stars
In Case of Fire, Use Stairs 