the heart laid bare

Archive

VERBAL PORTRAIT OF A CAT OWNER
Unanswered
Bedtime
the one time
prisoner
iris
adore
delicate
Untitled 10
never him
lockdown
procrastinating
advice to the imaginary man of my hypothetical dreams
the tenth month
purple hearts
vigil
a glossary of terms
a week forever ago
The sixteenth
the curse
Under seige
Beyond the blues
Introspect
Balloon
push
a strange distance
SWIMMING ALWAYS DOWNWARD
A ONCE-FAMILIAR LANDSCAPE
No Apology
the thunder
tinder
critical shortage
the sky we thought we knew
CIRCA SOLEM
almanac
baby
dearest orlando
FIVE MONTHS
A LETTER TO THE UNDESERVING
cactus heart
would we
the fall of giants
paradise lost
Dad
after you've gone
time
a smile from the eyes
trepidation
why so cold
fix this
swallow me
untitled 8
insular
cry alone
robin
quicksand
laces
D.I.S.C.
stripped
waving goodbye
your open eyes
enemy within
mortal
untitled 4
sleepless
OUTSIDER
untitled 9
come dream with me
in the face of adversity
one word
the dark of the night
untouchable
one and one makes two
you burn me
see me
this shaken core
my lover
helen
my room
his words
foolish
rita
chalk drawings
the longest night
stupid skeleton
CLOTHES MAKETH
FIRST LASTS
STELLAR
TODAY
I WATCHED A MAN DIE TODAY
THREE WEEKS
this slippery slope
untitled 5
Arrows
First Kiss
The Talk Of Love
Nicotine
Blackout

robin

As a child, I watched you
You came into my house all pixelated and manic
Wove your crazy antics
And disappeared on the half hour with everything neatly tied up,
Just in time for the news.
You were someone I knew would always be there 
At the end of a day of scholastic torment.
You always made me smile.
I felt as though I knew you.
 
And in later years -
The years when every slight is an unforgiveable insult
And every injury a grievous wound -
I struggled with my own shadows,
And even though I knew you fought with demons of your own,
You were always there.
I could lock myself away
And watch you take a smoky stage,
Rapid fire words
That would always make me laugh
When the world outside was doing its best to make me despair.
 
I watched you put on your masks and walk the world as someone else.
I watched...
Spoke the words along with you;
Learned the poems;
Read the history;
Fell in love;
Believed in the healing power of laughter.
I knew it could be done...
... you’d done it for me for years.
Every heart that ever broke in me was healed in part by you.
 
I never for a minute thought you wouldn’t be there.
 
You could have walked up to any one of ten million people
And said “I’m not ok, and I need help”
And we would have let you in.
We’ve been inviting you into our lives for years.
You chose a lonelier path and I wonder if you ever knew
How mighty you really were?
 
This grief has robbed me of the elegance of my words
And I stumble through this, struggling to find a way to say:
Adrian Cronauer, Genie, Jack, Patch, Mork, Rainbow Randolph, Fender Pinwheeler, Parry, Dr Sayer, Peter Pan, Mrs Doubtfire, Alan Parrish, Dr Maguire, and John Keating - Oh Captain, My Captain -
Nobody else could have brought you to life.
You held a closer place in my heart than I ever suspected
And there is a hollow place at my core where the laughter came from.
Who you were in the masks, and who you were behind them,
And who you were when all the masks were off, when you thought you were alone...
You were loved.
 
The mighty have fallen,
And we are poorer for it. 

© mjc 13 August 2014

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Biography

Daughter, sister, aunt, godmother, friend; self-confessed hermit, confirmed cat person, sporadic baker, irreformable yarncrafter, voracious reader; occasional wit, voluble shower vocalist, frequent sacrifice on the altar of brain-to-mouth filter fails, unrepentant purveyor of puns and dad jokes, writer and poet.

I have always lived by the theory that no matter what you do for a living - if you are compelled to write, if you wake up in the night to scrawl the contents of your dreams on a notebook beside the bed, if no event in your life seems complete without you recording it, if you are drawn to comment upon the world - then you are a writer.

These are my words.