Archive for life


Posted in poetry with tags , , on February 28, 2015 by Sarah aka Sarjé

Imminently pleased, momentarily

Thinking I had won a game only I was playing,

On a field, on a train I thought someone I knew

had boarded.

“You have made me feel so alone,”

The mirror says, crystal.

I’ve been beside myself through this journey,

and it seems still nothing has changed.


No Strangers

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on December 17, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

See the darkness in me,
Feel the weight of that little black hole.
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Laugh: and lift me, impossible, improbable.

Probability doesn’t seem to factor in,
Gravity and I have never been friends.
You and I are no strangers–
Falling is second nature.

Strange how much it feels like flying,
Undeniably intended.


Checking In

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , on November 18, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

I’m okay. I feel good.
We check in, and ask–
how are things going?
We resort to talking about food.

Nothing’s new, all is well.
This stuff bothered me,
No big deal though, you know?
Just another thing to sell.

Holidays are coming.
Stressful? Sure.
Just keeping on, through
everything, even if bumbling.

No, no one new, it’s hard.
Holidays can be, you say–while
happily married, another on the way.
Easy; when you’re not on-guard.

Constantly insecure, and unsure
of those around me, the
come ons, the veiled challenges.
And I can only be demure.

So I’m okay. I feel good.
Right now. Safe with you,
here, no onion layers to peel
away. Out there? Should

The Weight of Watching

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , on August 28, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

In the distance, I watch
as leaves fall–
some still spring-green and fresh,
surely too new to drop away;
some turned crisp from
the heat of many sunny days.

I feel myself drooping
from the weight of watching.
I am a hollowed-out acorn–
empty and exhausted,
incapable of any movement–
except, eventually, down.

Some Folks

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on August 23, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

Some folks will turn a happening
Into an event.
Some folks will turn a crush into an
Some folks will make a little love into
A lifetime.

Me? I ain’t some folks, I’m all folks and
No folks.
I ain’t gonna judge your moments, your loves.

God knows I’ve had more than my fair share.

Beauty Is (I)

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , on June 16, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

Beauty is a quiet, long, clean line–

the thin angle of your nose or your

hip, hip, hooray, so small compared with

collar and rib, so fully compact.


Beauty is short, loud, and curvy–

the smell of my perfume hitting you,

a celebration of width and fullness,

shoulders, breasts, wasting away.


Beauty is bold, brash, and calm–

the tongue-taste of summer wine and

somber kisses, the succinctness of sense:

smoky along the line of your lips.

The Graffiti of Aging

Posted in poetry with tags , , , , , , on June 14, 2014 by Sarah aka Sarjé

The dusty ghost of old paintings haunts the walls:

reminders that I am not the only tenant in this world.

This is the graffiti of aging–the skin of experience

has found a wrinkle and is beginning to fret, a disused

guitar that needs some strong, grey steely strands.

The spirit of youth is wily, though: a coyote I cannot

outrun; shaking spray cans and laughing. And the question

becomes–not can I catch up, or could you? But can we

choose a color suitable for both the old and for the new?