dig

each freckle
on my tired arms
each mole
on my aching back
a tiny hole
where someone tried
to 'dig a bit deeper'
dropped their shovel
and ran

- Zach Ogden

(featured in the poetry forum 08.22.10)

Revelations and Resolutions

“as my eyes creaked open and the sun howled at me to wake up and soak it in, my legs twitched and i felt your legs twisted in mine, tied like vines, clasped like lovers hands, wrapped like your lips on my stomach 6 hours earlier as the storm in my mind finally passed and everything was finally 'o.k.' again (oh, the irony]. 'i'm the kind of girl that knows how to separate these things, don't worry' but I am because maybe I don't want you to. maybe i'm growing up and don't want to die a lonely man who had beautiful women but lived an ugly, empty life. maybe i'm finally blasting the stone wall i built around my heart to keep You out, because back then i didn't want to hurt, because i was 16 and felt enough of that and didn't want to feel anything else at all. i want to feel. i want to burn, i want to yearn, i want to learn how to love freely and deeply because life doesn't always run neatly. heartbreaks aren't mistakes, they only serve to remind me of how much i have felt and how much i have yet to feel.

so the next time you arch your back and giggle
while i whisper in your ear and swim in your hair;

so the next time we lay in your mother's cold bath water
and i realize i actually do care;

so the next time i kiss you on the cheek on my back lawn
with your beautiful cream dress and matching heels;

so the next time i wave goodbye to California and your hair
soft and warm like the sun's April smile;

so the next time i lay in my standard issue blue bed
crying because i never told my brother i love you

i'm going to tell you how i feel. i won't let it rot in my brain and poison my soul.
(i'm going to tell you how i feel.)”

- Zach Ogden

(added 04.24.09)

Dream’d

“i know you hate it but i watched you sleep last night. i watched you dream, your eyelids limp, and i hoped that you dream'd of me. you told me you were cold and i threw myself onto you, believing somehow that giving you my body would stop you from ever being cold again. we stripped and forgot - i didn't think about anything but you and us and how beautiful you looked, curls heavy and wet and brown like your eyes, like your skin like the Yukon soil I feel between my toes as I write this. maybe when we collided i desperately wanted your body to tingle like you make my heart leak. the earth lives within you, and i see it in your veins like the tree I dream'd we’d wed under, alone and lonely like the heart I buried.

so last night, when you writhed and shivered and finally collapsed into nauseous, gripping sleep, did you dream of me? did you dream of holding my hand? did you dream of sleepy love - the slow, soft, tongueless kiss we all need (the very kiss you give me every morning before i go to bed and every night when i wake up)? or did you even dream at all?

it's nice to meet you, baby, it's nice to finally meet you”

- Zach Ogden

(added 04.24.09)

Peace

summer rain graces my cheeks like god's fingers wiping away the tears and anger of why he would turn his back on her and strip her nerves of their sheath. it's a warm, dreary rain, the San Francisco rain that drives people inside and leaves behind soft ground and humid air for days after it departs. it’s the rain the leaves fold upward, hands cupped and praising, hoping to catch a piece of gods mind, his motives and actions. while her body started destroying itself, I broke away and embraced an ideology that filled my heart with hate that took years to drive out. i long for love but live in the flailing despair of losing someone. 530 AM I saw the sun rising over the Thames, shoulders buckling under the weight of my body, everything was okay. have you ever felt true peace? the peace of "everything is alright even if nothing is going right," the peace of love pouring forth from you, the peace of solace in god's smiling pink, cursive orange face peeking above the hill to the east lips pursed "peace, peace." the word's burned out after 40 years of lies, peace isn't no war in Vietnam, peace is no war in our hearts, peace is acceptance, peace is loving even if love isn't coming back, or even if you're scared that it might not be someday.

dandelions lean back and reach upwards, begging for the rain.

- Zach Ogden

(featured in the poetry forum 04.24.09)