best friends

and so they jumped
off the golden gate
knowing they'd meet again
somewhere
maybe in hell
maybe in a movie
or maybe in a book

like thelma and louise
they were outlaws
but just hadn't broken
any laws yet
except the unwritten law
which says
you must be good girls
you must be bland girls
you must be
life support systems
for the only thing you own
that really matters

and so they jumped
off the golden gate
leaving giant bras
and licorice cats
and fountain pens
and plastic dishes
and old old dolls
and mountains
of things behind them
their legacy of things collected
piled up around them
as the emptiness stayed
inside them...

-Cory Raymond

preparing to leave me

the old, old woman
my friend
forgets to remember
more every day

talking like dreaming---
scraps of what's real
all stirred up
together
with things
that never were

doves in her mind
beating their wings
scattering
the pieces of her life
the sticky notes pasted
on the woman
she once was

she talks
and talks
her strong contralto
now breathy
and wavering

a haphazard tear
forms and rolls
ever so slowly
down her velvet cheek
once artfully painted
now exposed

her pride put aside
her wispy white hair
glittering silver still
hangs lank
and unattended
like a garden
of memories forgotten

she looks at me
closely
and clutches my hand
for a moment
as if to anchor
us to the present

then she tells me
about the friend
she once had
a long time ago
never suspecting
that I'm the one
she's talking about

"oh, the times
we had together"
she says
her eyes young
and bright

i nod and
i smile and think,
"oh, the times
we had together
indeed."

she loves
my memory
but she doesn't
know me
i've been fixed
in her mind
in another time

i mourn her passing
even as she talks on
remembering
forgetting
preparing
to leave me...

-Cory Raymond

sometimes ever after

"This is about a place that my dear friend, Linda Sue, and I dreamed about going to in August, 2002." - Cory Raymond


so they carried their bags
full of rocks and seashells
and their shoes full of sand
home where they decided to make
a magical wall with rocks and seashells
and driftwood and ocean-polished glass

it would not be high, just a demarcation
of their territory
a notice to all that this was theirs
the magic would keep out
anyone who did not possess a key
to their minds and hearts
but would allow entry to all
who aspired to gentleness
who practiced kindness
who spoke softly and let
their dogs carry the big sticks
for them

cats of every color
would sit on the wall
and sleep on it
and sing on it at night
celebrating the moon
and their catness
eyes glowing in the dark
with visions human eyes
failed to perceive
feelings human hearts
could not contain

people would sit there too
sometimes
and drink champagne from
chipped coffee mugs
and talk about
a different world
a beautiful place
and laugh and pet the cats
and hope to live
happily sometimes
ever after...


-Cory Raymond

the poetry makers

I think of them as tiny people
that I carry around in the pockets
of my mind
along with lint
rusty paperclips
missing buttons
and small change from a misspent life

they tiptoe through
the disorderly conduct of my thoughts
collecting bits and pieces
of people and places
books and songs
comic strips and movies

things that drifted into
and out of my life
a hastily discarded feeling here
a long-forgotten idea there
possibilities scattered like ashes
in the rubble of my regrets
all shaken, not stirred, with a few missing links
that came from who-knows-where

day in and day out
for over sixty years
the greedy little scavengers
followed my sloppy thoughts around
happily hoarding
whatever I left behind
like tiny little pack rats

somehow they knew I needed them
stuck as I was
at the bottom
of a cracked glass
filled to the brim
with the stuff of exquisite isolation

so, now they clamor for my attention
eager to give me back all those things
lost in life's translation
a word here
a word there
grain after grain of hope
their gift to me
I think I'll call it poetry...


-Cory Raymond

Introducing: Cory Raymond

Well, now. I know this blog is about the community around me, but the internet is an interesting place, and I have met some interesting people doing some interesting things through it. One of those people is Cory Raymond, a poet whose blog I started reading because... hmmm... I can't recall. Perhaps she commented on a poem of mine. Anyway, she is very creative and friendly and I like her poems, so I am going to feature several here.

Links:
Her poetry blog