Searching Poems. David Vargas

Transcription

1 Searching Poems David Vargas

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3 Contents Epigraph 1. As They Really Were - Creative Fiction 2. Hold Me - Poem 3. I Attempted - Poem 4. Your Name, Oh Your Name - Poem 5. Searching For Tulips - Poem 6. Weeks and Weeks - Poem 7. A Moment Left In Them - Poem 8. When Did I - Poem 9. Me By Me - Poem 10. Your Presence, My Atmosphere - Poem 11. Hope - Poem 12. My Little Voice - Poem

4 Sometimes I forget I have a voice, I forget my brain is as idiotic And intelligent as anyone else's. I forget Because I don't want to be forgotten In the tension formed between us.

5 As They Really Were I lie in bed. The sheets are new against my skin; Goosebumps slip up my spine; I close my eyes. You re funny, he said. It s warm out and the sun made his hair look mahogany, And you re cute, so I guess we re even. The sun s rays shimmer his own skin. It wasn t until the end that they both saw themselves as they really were. They knew before, of course, but it wasn t until they hugged for the last time that they saw. It s dark but for the orange glowing lines crossing the ceiling formed by the vertical blinds they bought the time they went to the hardware store together. Neither said it at the time but they both felt whole as they waited in line at the cash register. Like they were already married, grocery shopping, putting mild salsa in the cart because they knew the other liked it. I dread the mundane. So you dread everyday. No. I work to make everyday the opposite of mundane. Exciting. Sounds like your running from something. What? He hears the offense in his voice. The ripples of a question that needed to be asked What is this? are stronger in the beginning than in the end. I don t know. A lull, a crash washing away what is, I love you. and leaving, like a glimmering light, all that is left. He feels

6 His shoulder blades in his palms as His arms wrap around him. He picks him up and leans back. He feels his abdominals flex against his own and squeezes tighter, inhaling him, when he realizes he is smelling his own forearm. He sets him down. Neither look at each other as both pull away and say goodbye. Here, let me spray just a little. No. Just a little, he moves towards him, removing the bottle cap, No! You know I don't like it. With a playful smile, he raises the bottle. They hear the spritz and his arms jolt up, taking most of the spray. Damn it! he begins to furiously wipe his arms on the bed, I said no! Fuck! He steps back. He wasn't the type to cuss. Not when he was mad or upset, angry, or enraged. He just wasn t, so he didn t know what to do with, fuck. Neither of them did. Nowadays the stupidest things sent him into a piss. He grabbed his coat and left, slamming the apartment door. Worst of all, they knew they were overreacting. It wouldn t wash off. I can still smell it. I roll onto my side and the still-cold sheets curl me into a ball. My arms rest next to my nose and I closes my eyes. The molecules enter my body and tag my blood. They mark every cell, entering channels, maneuvering plasma and nuclear pores until they reach me. Twisted, encased me and infect me.

7 Hold Me I keep looking, alone, Looking alone; Can't believe I'm looking alone. I don't want to find what we had, But I keep searching, I want it; I want it so bad. Looking through the wild For what we let go. It grows all around me; It reaches high, it grows. Hold me, wont you? You Held me once, Hold me again. The trees grew too fast. Too tall, too wide, no roots. It had to stop; it stopped. I can't help it: Hold me. Help me again. To hold you, On so tight, stare Down those demons. Hold me, Held me, Hold me again.

8 I Attempted I attempted to stand and speak For the little one in me, Chart a path For the one who could not see. I attempted to fly away With a black cloak around my neck Only for it tear, gravity Pulling me back to earth. I attempted let myself Trust himself. To exchange words With a self. To give myself And receive a self. I attempted to stand back And see myself, see your self. I attempted my most Precious self. Oh, my little self. I attempted to change What did not need to change To grow with one who could not grow And be with one who could not be with me. I attempted again and again, For the little one in me, Walk a path For the one who could not see.

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10 Your Name, Oh Your Name How many times do I have to saw your name For it to become something else, For it to mean as much to me as Andreas Or Mark? I like to imagine you hear me when I say it out loud. That you hear my sound. That my thoughts Spark yours and you say my name too, That you say your phrases and wish You could say them to me. You know what I mean? It s as if saying it makes it true. It exists. Those syllables are yours. You ve claimed those sounds and They belong to you. Remember how I kept saying them? How you seemed confused by my obsession? I was saying them for myself, For the 17 year old, years ago. I cock my head and strain my ear. I can hear my cry in the mountains. I can feel the echoes in my chest But I let them pass. I strain to hear more, my future self. What am I saying? What am I trying To communicate? And then I hear your voice. Your whisper. Your rhythm. Your tongue engraves your name in my ear and My past and my future stop. Your breath galvanizes your name and All I can do is wait for the wind and rain because only they Can take it away. In their time, they take everything away.

11 Searching For Tulips Something about the rain, That acid rain, Floods my skin. The puddles in the sky Keep me honest When they dribble themselves down Or evaporate their way up and surround me. When I want to pretend. Something about the water, every which way, Some thing about the moisture in the air, Grieving with those who grieve, The chilly air and overcast light, Reminds me. What did I exchange with you? What did I give you? What did you give and what is left? Bulbs dying in the soil or Annuals plucked too soon. We can t know the answer. No. I do not know Time. If I did I d ask Time to take me back so We could stay or Take me forward so I can see decomposing-organic matter or Red-spring tulips dotting the path we walk. I don t care which. I just want to know.

12 Weeks and Weeks I think, over the Weeks and weeks I ve gone from fighting, With your hand in mine, To giving up With your hand in yours. I walk the town, The heat the only thing That touches me like the heat From your touch, your words, Lifting me to new heights. We were never equidistant. Weeks and weeks will become Months and months, years and years Layers of time stacked between us Rather than around us. I think, it was all so small, Those weeks. Time has made them weak With my hand in mine, Always equidistant.

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14 A Moment Left In Them I didn't fall in love with you, My boyfriend; I went with you. You, as you talk and dream. The boy whose fight for justice is As familiar to him as The taste of air on his lips. And still, still, I go. When I write in silence, Or shrink from fear, Gasp for safety Like frantic wind. When I walk in sunlight And wonder in wonder, Seeing explosions of life. But then I change, Time goes on. Glad All is done, but all at once, Believing we are meant to be. Two do not quite let go. Or they do, two meet as one. A change in time meant for them, Just a moment left in them.

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16 When Did I I have tattoos. When did this happen? Between my arms, torso and legs. A pain I come back to. I fell in love. How did it happen? Between my brain, heart and thighs. A hallowed trinity I sign to. When did it happen? that I let myself Draw blood from myself, Draw life from myself, Summon within me the fearless one. I know the color Of my blood, The color Of my seed. When did it happen That I forgot what it meant For my body, for my spirit To be stricken with feeling and emotion? My skin marked or body pierced, Without my memories; Lips kissed or body touched, Without my heart; Nothing without these parts, These hallowed marks.

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18 Me By Me I get lost In all of it. I am to understand you, Know your wants and needs, I am to understand the complexities of your matter, The cells replicating, The symphonic sounds of your letters, The study of your God. I am to know the way of your church. I am to be your gay. To be a lover to my love To be a friend to my love. To know love and lust, A sex God over you, Oh, a sexy fiend, I am to always say yes because No is shameful. Yet the only one, the one, I must understand is an Ever changing constellation; A universe unto themselves And I barely passed physics. Sometimes I think others know Us better then we know ourselves. It is there job, after all. We are programmed To be curious and discover How to be loved by others. Our lives becoming this odd scaffolding Of insecurities, to appease, until we realize The harm and we crumble. Maybe that s just me because I knew I had to hide parts of myself To be considered pure. I knew I had to pretend To keep things going. What power we have To be who we want! What power we have To make others believe us! With you and you, but not you. I am to know how to be a Christian This kind and that, with you and you.

19 How to be a lover to my love and my friend To know friendship and love and lust and To live in the tension, But who can discover me, who has searched And stopped and wondered? I have. You only know the me by me. Stop and wonder with me.

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21 Your Presence, My Atmosphere I saw you on the subway. You were in the other car, Two panes of glass and air Separated us. I knocked but you didn t Look up. I m hurt that you Didn t see me. I m embarrassed That I knocked. You were texting your new boyfriend, The presence of me not Entering your atmosphere As yours does mine. I imagine we will meet again; That somehow you ll convince me To try again, but I see how Absurd that is. I look down at my phone and Swipe through the home screen. I swipe again wondering If I m convincing anyone. I open photos and find us, The ones I haven t deleted. I see that I m not Convincing anyone.

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23 Hope When I remember my love For you, I long for it. When I remember you, My love, I shutter. I run and stop Because of you. I want you to pass Yet I shake. What hope is made of: To have affection for love, An aversion to you. When I remember my love I see its limits. Longing to know how to do it. When I see the limits I remember how hard it is To love without shuttering.

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25 My Little Voice Sometimes, when I open my mouth, My voice surprises me. I don t mean this in a poetic sense, Though it would be nice; It would be romantic. It is like, well, I usually speak so low that I don t hear myself, I only hear what I think I ve said, And when I force myself to Speak up, it startles me: My voice becomes louder than I meant, The intonation all wrong, It s implication out of my control. Even so, perhaps I should be loud. Let the fingerprint of my voice Smudge all the glass doors Built by me without my permission because When I am quiet too long I forget what is mine and What is yours. I forget my strength and Only see yours. But when I am caffeinated-drunk, I surprise myself, Recognize my voice, Hear the connotations I make, And all I want are my fingerprints all over the place. I become the dominatrix of my life. The submissive becomes my choice And I leave my marks on those I choose; The little voice becomes a tool I whisper in the ears I admire because I hear my voice and I hear myself.

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