the world and words of a writer

gretchen is a writer floating between australia and manhattan

Category: writing (page 10 of 112)

i’m still thinking in french…

Ma vision effacée. Tout à coup … voir;
Il était au-dessus de moi, déjà à l’intérieur.
Mon cœur a appris à refleurir. Ace de tasses.
Et le ciel est plus bleu, la lumière du soleil d’or.
Inspirez un moment, expirez toujours.
Nuits pleines d’étoiles après des années de l’obscurité –
Ne voyant pas la maladie jusqu’à ce que vous êtes mieux.
Il a enflammé mon âme, une étincelle de pinceau.
“Je suis juste derrière vous,” les premiers mots prononcés –
Tourner la tête à un regard aux chandelles.
Réparation amour comme il n’a jamais rompu.
Mon silence a commencé à parler d’une nouvelle façon.
Lorsque les feuilles engourdissement, puis vous revenez. Sentir…
Redéfinition de quelque chose qui est réel.

My vision cleared. To suddenly… look up;
He was above me, already inside.
My heart learned to bloom again. Ace of cups.
And the sky was more blue, golden sunlight.
Inhale one moment, exhale forever.
Nights full of stars after years of the dark –
Not seeing illness until you’re better.
He ignited my soul, a paintbrush spark.
“I’m right behind you,” the words first spoken –
Turning my head to a candlelit gaze.
Repairing love like it’s never broken.
My silence started speaking in new ways.
When numbness leaves, then you return. To feel…
Redefinition of something that’s real.

baby. i just…

To(o) Much

I turned. My
Head facing a…
Howl. Like
Slowed.
I
Stop(Ped). I rode
A window to(o)
Touch.
He put a…
(Pen in my hand)
(Octave in my…)
Breath. Do you
Know the rhythm.
I. Strike.
Everybody talks
About
How we wrote right
And left
Handed while
I walked. Pas(sed)t.
Baby…
… Slow. (Mmm)
Ocean.
I scribbled. A
Way. That prove:
To,
Much.

welcome (the world)

welcome (the world)

he introduced me
not knowing
there is no one i need
to know. and while
these women gossiped
and laughed and bantered
my lungs expanded
while my eyes closed.
they said: she’s an alcoholic.
she isn’t one
of us.
they spoke and spat
mouth running mischief.
when this happens –
protection shuts
me down. before i rise
i take time
to consider. to think
about the color of his e(yes)
and accent of his voice
and things he does
not say
while he was trying to know
me. i was
never. one of whatever.
i hope he pleases her
before me
because i am nothing
but one second
of time. that
does not exist.

your socks

The last night I saw you was the only night my dog ever pissed on my floor. She did it while you were here doing drugs in my bathroom that were delivered by my dealer in a silver BMW about twenty minutes ago.

These are things that happen in Manhattan.

I’ve known you for almost two years now and you have begged and pleaded and played on the weakness my divorce cut me with and broke both of my knees.

I’ve given you a lot. Too much. Things I will never get back. Things you will never deserve. But if you ever thought I would give you the number of my delivery service – you played yourself. Continue reading

éveil internationale

I’ve been writing in French lately…

éveil internationale

et ses paroles sont devenues
mon pinceau. mon inspiration.
mon amour.
soudain,
je pensais en français…
pinot noir. creme brule.
baisers à Manhattan en –
rêvant de l’Australie.
et mon monde
élargi. couleurs
que tout a commencé
quand j’ai regardé dans les yeux.

international awakening

and his words became
my paintbrush. my inspiration.
my love.
suddenly
i was thinking in french…
pinot noir. creme brule.
kissing in manhattan –
dreaming of australia.
and my world
expanded. colors
that all started
when i looked in his eyes.

Older posts Newer posts
Content Protected Using Blog Protector By: PcDrome.