Sunday, October 14, 2012

Grenade in Your Corn

©Stacie Sandall

I exploded into your life.
You had no helmet on.
The shrapnel dug within
long after the line was drawn.

No Kevlar worn upon your heart,
my ammo snuggled deep.
Unaware of things to come,
I maimed you in your sleep.

I was the grenade in your corn,
projectiles unavoided.
I left you bleeding, broken-hearted,
and utterly disappointed.


©Stacie Sandall

I've no desire to rise.
Life beckons, so I fall to its mercy.
Crawling, sighing into the sun,
drinking it in as if I'm thirsty.

A fighting stance with wobbly knees,
the empty stare mirrored back.
Stale water in the bath,
I linger empty as a sack.


©Stacie Sandall

Endure the shame.
Run the race.
Dance away
pain's bitter embrace.

Its gnarly hold,
its ice-laced stares,
toe the line,
pay the fares.

Blindsided and tossed,
bound and gagged,
strapped and stripped,
pierced and dragged.

Driven mad
from beasts within,
consumed alive,
he swallows sin.

Memory Awry

©Stacie Sandall

soft ink stain
wiped blot
escape through the crack
dream a'rot

dropped chalk
opened head
shaded seed
voice is dead

Beneath the Tree

©Stacie Sandall

Mold and mildew
will stretch, my sweet,
while tulips burrow
beneath the peat.

Birds will perch
upon your head
and rob you of sleep
of your earthen bed.

Fingers raw
from nails of rust,
pain dissolves
as putrid dust.

As creeping roots
ensnare your wrists,
the soil will cake
inside your fists.

The shadows cast
by breaking dawn
will fade to black
when you have gone.

Draft of a Love Letter

©Stacie Sandall

Cold leaves blow hither and yon.
The words were there, but now they're gone.
Soaring sunward, dancing high,
flipping, fluttering in the sky.
Pages brushing hand-blown clouds,
diving, cutting through the crowds.
Overturned and over-tossed,
watermarked and quill-embossed,
frayed and fractured, gutter-bound,
dulled and damp, the dragging sound.
Whipped and trodden, center-bent,
twice forgotten and never sent.
Ripped and tattered, corners torn,
faded, sun-kissed, weather-worn.
Ink undone, tangled to pen,
poised and ready to begin again.


©Stacie Sandall

Strange harmony.
Possessing spell.
Let the noise
paint the expansion.

Rhythm in Sleep

©Stacie Sandall

Looking at me
from across the room,
our eyes dance
to the steady beat.

Our deejay hearts
play the same song
and begin to sway
in the crowded heat.

The knowing glimmer
in your eyes
reflects my feelings
back at me.

the vicious passion
in your smirk
speaks the rhythm
that will never be.

As the pulsing decibels
fade to gray,
I turn my head
and close my eyes.

If I concentrate
and cease to breathe
I can can finish dreaming
before my heart dies.

Where They Don't Grow

©Stacie Sandall

Leaf-adorned soldiers
struggle to stretch
from a seasoned nap.

Bark-laced rubble
amongst cracked earth
and frayed grass.

The deadened nerves
of earth's thick skin
saddens even I.

Let the foliage fall,
kindred spirits,
and succumb.


©Stacie Sandall

Watching you sleep, hair whipping wild,
our toes entwine beneath the sand pile.
Legs entangle, lips embrace
while nervous fingers explore your face.
Moonlit poses on the beach,
bodies mesh, hearts out of reach.
Want and need both pass us by,
replaced with lust and alibi.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Only a Dream

©Stacie Sandall

You are in every breath I inhale.
You hold up every step I take.
You nourish me with your wrinkle-nosed laugh
and quench me with every smile you make.

Your absence splits my heart.
Your distance tears my soul.
Your closeness mends the wounds
and nurses me back to whole.

Eyes deep as cloudless sky,
light emits from within your core,
wit sharp as silver blades
and makes me beg for more.

One day you’ll dip your knee
and boldly take my hand.
Those embellished words will spill like rain
and fall upon the sand.

Dear Jesus, let me keep him
and grow older by his side.
I pray and beg you’ll hear my plea
and he’ll say I’ll be his bride.

Full Circle

©Stacie Sandall

how the dust you trampled on years ago
can end up back through your door.
Though you can't remember where you've been,
the small reminder brings a smile to your face.
The broom can lean in the corner
for a little while longer.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Angry Scissors

©Stacie Sandall

Three pairs of angry scissors smirk,
dripping with sweat.
Warm, wet pencils stand and salute
the fallen piece of paper they once called friend.

Ramblings 2

©Stacie Sandall

Bread grunts
as peanut butter sits on him,
pinching his cheeks,
and giving him an Indian burn.


©Stacie Sandall

Screaming, naked dust
darted down the hallway soaking wet.
A raving mob of drenched rags swiped angrily.
Dust lunged under the rug
and giggled.
The mob grunted
and stomped away in retreat.


©Stacie Sandall

Dragons danced up in my head,
like blades of grass in my flower bed.
They changed directions in the breeze
and soared above my mental trees.
They sang to me of castles vast,
of villages and peasants past.
They whispered words of a soothing spell,
and spoke their tales of knights, as well.
As the sun descended from above my eyes,
the dragons and I said our last good-byes.
Off in the air, they flew back home,
and left me unafraid to roam.

Nine Hours in Front of a Computer Screen

©Stacie Sandall

The blue mouse pad looks like an animal was chewing on it.
Some guy I didn't know I knew
is talking of things I forgot I did.
My hat is squeezing the top of my head into a point.
A girl resembling a blimp is floating from her keyboard.
Now the room is empty, except for all the stuff.
The whir of the farthest ceiling fan
is drowning out the nearest.
The sugar from a warm soda is running through my veins.
I have to go pee.

Fly Away

©Stacie Sandall

I like to watch them play,
screaming in the cold, unforgiving wind.
They toss and turn.
Up they go without a sound to the tops of the trees.
For a brief moment,
I swear they sprouted eyes.
I think they are laughing inside.
Then they fly away.


©Stacie Sandall

Listen to the shadow,
the little broken-winged blackbird
laying in the wet dandelions,
soft and delicious.

Sky Is Falling

©Stacie Sandall

The amber sunset twists down the sky
while they lay motionless beneath the clouds,
their finely sculpted bodies
woven like unattended vines.
With eyes of laughter and mouths of pain,
they wait for the sky to fall.
Silver shadows climb damp branches
as darkness thickens.
Surging clouds shake the night.
The waning moon trembles above,
reflecting nature's motives.
Stones beneath aching backs
fight against the burden,
while blades of grass wave above
to the night air song.
Cold earth dances atop their faces like sleet
as their sky rains down.