Funny People

by Iphios

We are funny people
Seeking each other
To share mundane details
Of our lives:
Passing drivers ed,
Getting stuck
In traffic and
Reading a lovely book

Filling out the long silence
With tiny glimpses
Of our day to day
If not of our wounds
Dug deep—
Our addictions,
Depression and
Miserable families

Never the in between
Not our days in work,
Not about our friends
Where we’ve been
Or who we’re seeing

No, never that
As if the spaces between
Bear the unsacred
Not to be uttered
Not to be shared
In the tiny pockets
Of our meeting

How then do we define
This awkward space
We’ve sit in for so long?
For we are neither friends
Or lovers but funny people
Seeking each other
To capture the sacred.


Open Spaces #2: An Improbable Quiet

[ Open spaces is a series of poem inspired by some of my own paintings.]

An Improbable Quiet

I knew the sound of fury

of glass shattering as a

gin bottle flies across the air

land a few inches shy

of my mother’s scared face.


I knew the sound of breath

struggling out of a mouth

as a hand held my neck

squeezing through flesh

and fragile bone.


Every sound I knew

echoed fear worn

like skin and pain

numbed with practice.


Every sound I knew—

creaking doors, leather

hitting plump flesh,

bones breaking as wails

and howls escaped human lips

were truths tattooed in my soul.


I thought I knew every sound there was

until this…

a quiet—

of wind through blades of grass

of the sky sighing in welcome

of my own tears

murmuring  a joy I thought

forever impossible.