Dangerous, Treacherous, Hazardous You

I know how your hands feel
intertwined in my hair or
pressed against my back or
clutched between mine.

I know how your lips feel
pressed against my cheek or
nibbling on my ear or
Moving slowly against mine.

Stop.
I sit up and move away.
Away from the warmth
of you.

Stop
those hazardous lips
treacherous arms.
Dangerous you.

-SarahBaughman

Stories

“when I say remember
Your eyes reflect, give back.”
You ask me to tell you a story,
As your fingers make dizzying trails
Across the back of my neck,
Sending shivers down my back that
Distract me.
A story? I ask. About what?
You don’t know. Make one up.
So I start.
I tell you there once was a girl,
I start this way because I am a girl
And after all, I should tell you a story
About what I know.
So this girl, I say,
Has a car.
A car? You ask.
Yes. Shut up. I reply.
You are always interrupting my stories.
You remain quiet and your fingers are still
Distracting me.
She has a car. I say.
And she’s driving her car at night.
At night? You ask.
I sit up from the spooning position
We were in.
We like to spoon.
It makes us feel closer
Because we fit together so well.
Do you want a story? I ask.
You wrap your arms around me.
A hug.
I just want to hear you talk.
You whisper.
I’m distracted.
You always do this.
I stare at you and
Your eyes are sparking
With concealed mirth.
I’ve never finished a story
You’ve asked me to tell.

Family Poem

When I think of Mom

It’s Wal-Mart.
Take a left after entering the store
Right back to the Christmas isle.
All those plastic trees
Balanced precariously
On display for all to see.
To buy.
You took a rubber lizard
And tied the tail
To a random tree branch.
“decorations!” you claim.
It’s random. It’s bizarre.
It makes me laugh every time
I remember it.
and
Dad would be
So embarrassed.

August, 2009 Sioux Falls, SD

We were in the middle
Of hundreds of
Adolescence, dripping
In the August sun.
My little sister and I.

The lead singer,
With his football pads
And hulk gloves,
Spat out lyrics
About his momma and
Dancing on cardboard.
We knew every word.

A group of short,
Annoyingly giggly,
Girls stared at us.
As we two white
Girls from Iowa
Rapped along.

Why Won't You Just Go Away?

foot slips back
as I step forward
her frigid breath burns
my open eyes
blink.blink.blink
a flowing response freezes.
absent is the warm deluge
that caresses, nurtures, and colors
the world.
in it's place
her solid tears cling transparent
to bend, bruise and break
branches.
it's cruel, callous, uncouth
the way she never leaves
continuing on
in her constant torrent
of frozen vapor.

RR- Simile and Metaphor, Writing and Knowing, The Music of the Line

RR- Simile and Metaphor
“If such a world were possible, It would be a severely impoverished one.” Pg. 94
“But in surprising ones that reveal new connections or cast a different angle of light on an idea or experience.” Pg. 94
“Good metaphors and similes make connections that deepen, expand and energize; they stimulate the imagination.” Pg. 94
“but now it’s a simile that, if it turns up in your poem, should be sent to the Toxic Language Dump- a place we’ve invented for all those expressions that are deadly for the art.” Pg. 95
“Once you lose someone it is never exactly
The same person who comes back.” Pg. 96
RR- Writing and Knowing
“We’ve been told again and again to write about what we know, but we don’t trust that advice.” Pg. 19
“This is were we begin, by looking over our own shoulders, down our own arms, into our own hands at what we are holding, what we know.” Pg.21
“Good writing works from the simple premise: your experience is not yours alone, but in some sense a metaphor for everyone’s.” Pg. 21
“But our daily experience s, our dreams and loves and passionate convictions about the world, won’t be important to others- to potential readers of our poems- unless we’re able to transform the raw material of our experiences into language that reaches beyond the self-involvement of that person standing at the window…” Pg. 21
“If it worked for Whitman and Dickinson, for Williams and Forche and Dove, it can work for you.” Pg. 24
RR- The Music of the Line
“There are no real rules for line breaks.” Pg. 105
“At first you’ll feel very much at sea, but gradually, by experimenting and listening, and by noticing how lines works for other writers, you’ll begin to gain a sense of control.” Pg. 105
“Nothing storms out of these perfectly balanced lines.” Pg. 109
“These and other line breaks cut across the normal flow of sentences and are disorienting at times, mimicking and recreating the powerful emotions the writer wishes to convey.” Pg. 111
“The poem is an outpouring that allows the reader no opportunity to stop and consider.” Pg 111