Happy endings

We all agreed we wanted
those happy endings.
Wanted them so bad
we’d step on anyone else’s -
relinquish families, jobs, commitments.
Walk away into the technicolor horizon;
disappearing like a hobo
burrowing under an abutment.
Waiting out the night.
Waiting for the pink sky of new promises.

It didn’t matter who cried behind us;
we were singing the songs
of our abandonment.

We emptied ourselves of aspirations;
left only azure illusion.
We lied - mostly to ourselves.
Swindling and pilfering,
until our cache erupted -
littering finales upon
the sweltering ground.

Cold slaps did not wake us,
just sent us running toward
the last figments, clay-shaped
with misshapen fingers;
wrung jaws flapping loosely.
Loading our mantras
to fire at the wind,
we splayed our happy endings
across a brick wall.


© 2002 Melissa Songer

an incremental journey

the over-mind would know
would not notice polarity
the neural bridge scintillating
with glints of cellular communion

light defines gestalt
against a filtered shade
melds to color emergent
from the unknown
beaming its own lumination
striving to subdue the shadows
and banish ambiguity

from low in my spine
the light ascends
each turbine correspondent
to its unique energy
opening to
every sentient hue
listening to spherical music
as it magnifies
and justifies its brightness
and celerity

it’s a matter of heeding
the subtle language
a vibratory chatter
inside a velvet box
humming

I hear it
I swear
I can


© 2002 Melissa Songer