Mouse Eyed

Poetry, Film Scripts, and Prose by Isabel Kestner

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June 7th, 2010

 

Dream Again

 

His eyes refuse to close.  Somehow the lids

have become a drive in movie screen

playing silent horror movies endlessly.

 

One does not always need sleep to have

nightmares that wake them from rest.

 

He prays for sleep like a child trying to race

his way out of the maze of bad dreams.

 

Wide eyed all night and no longer a child

he can only wish he had dreams, even

bad ones. 

 

If only the nightmare would end and

he could dream again.

 

 

 

June 6th, 2010

 

The Aftershock

 

“This is just the aftershock,” I tell her

as she trembles with eyes half here,

half in that night with visions as clear

as day of that face no amount of

therapy with ever erase.

 

I tell her today’s date.

 

I tell her what time it is, where we are,

who I am, that I love her. 

 

I tell her that she’s safe now.

 

Yet she trembles still with every

cell in her body remembering

every painful permanent detail.

 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” I tell her, knowing

full well every comforting word I say is a lie,

knowing these memories will continue

 attacking her for the rest of her life.

 

I tell her it gets better with time,

it gets easier, knowing  it never will,

knowing she does not need the truth now.

 

She needs the lies to help her back here,

help her back home from one more of the

hundreds of flashbacks she’ll have her whole life.

 

I tell her kind lies until I can see her eyes are here,

until she has returned to this curse she’s left to live now,

until she looks at me with half a smile, believing

all of my lies.

 

 

 

 

May 31st, 2010

 

Untitled

 

Your heart was not edged in gold

for love is no coin or currency.

And all the riches of the world

cannot buy your lonely heart

out of its painful poverty. 

 

 

 

May 22 2010

 

Memory of Destiny

 

We find just enough light to cast a shadow

while we look for the brightness that seemed

to shine somewhere in a half faded memory

that after all the years feels more like a dream

we invented in a desperate attempt to hope

that we could make something good come true

that we could find more light than just enough

to cast a shadow on all the broken places

we walked naked and trembling through while

searching  for that brilliant light that we call

a memory, but it is no remembrance

of our history.  It is the memory of where we

are heading, the memory of our destiny.

 

 

 

Enough of Arguing

 

I am tired of words and even this music is getting old.

There is more than what our lips say.  Sit with me.

Quietly.  These words have become too good at arguing.

Say nothing tonight.  Let me listen to your breath.

Give this angry language a rest.  Let me hear

your heart beating beneath your breast.  Words

cannot compensate for what our voices have done.

The syllables of I’m sorry mean nothing.  Read

the apology in my eyes, in these eyes that loved

you in the instant of a glance, loved you before

lips moved, before names were spoken, before

promises, before arguments.  Hear what my heart

is saying without word, without sentence or sound.

Hear how much I love you. 

Know how wrong my angry words were.

 

 

 

May 1st, 2010

 

 

A Father’s Final Hours

 

You owe me nothing for this

for sitting here, hours upon hours, while

the minutes slowly creep towards eternity’s door.

No, there is nothing you need give to me

for these fingers kept clasped in yours and

the frequent caresses across your paling skin.

I ask for nothing in return for staying beside you

while you now can no longer fight, no longer hit, or

yell or terrorize.  You owe me no apologies now.

You couldn’t give them anyway, not with so many

tubes and wires trying to keep you tied to the earth.

You have no obligations or debts left due to me.

But if, in a few moments,

when you face the God that gave me to you,

you want to do something for me,

you may tell God that I forgive him

for letting you do what you did to me.

 

 

December 30 2009

 

 

Too many doors are closed.

Too many keys are missing.

If only I could unlock you.

If only I could unlock me.

There are too too many

doors closed, and more

doors closing every day.

And never enough keys.

If only I could learn to be

a key maker, oh, the doors

I would open.  So, so many

doors that must be opened.

So many many locked doors

and millions locked alone

behind them.  If only

I could make keys.

 

**********************

 

The sound of cars racing towards promotions

is not loud enough.

The rumbling of the trains carrying the weary

home is not loud enough.

The caravan of school busses bringing children

home is not loud enough.

The cable news turned up and arguing about

arguing is not loud enough.

The airplanes, the fire engines, the alarms,

the thunder are not loud enough.

Nothing is loud enough to cover your silence

to cover your absence

to cover that you are no longer with us.

 

 

*********************

 

 

There is courage in words.

Look at the language your father

was too afraid to speak, language

of love, language of comfort.

See the vocabulary trapped

behind your mother’s lips,

lips that were told they had no words

worth saying.  See the stories

she’s still too frightened to tell.

Look at the strangers as their

eyes look away from injustice

afraid that if they see they may

accidentally speak, might without

intention speak up for the hurt,

the wronged and the battered.

See how frightened they are of

what words could get them

tangled into.  Yes, there is

courage in words.  Words

are actions that carry sounds

that can save, can love, can

free, can reconcile, can cure.

To speak, to truly say, to

let the truth slip past

the lips is a bravery

few have in this silent

speechless world.

Be courageous and let

your lips release your

words, let your lips

change this world.

 

******************

 

Nothing curves like your sorrow

at night in this bed.

I reach my arms out around

try to make you a bridge

so you can cross across your sorrow.

All night, my arms like suspension wires

hoping you will reach the other side by tomorrow.

 

 

*******************

 

When the words are so many

you can no longer understand any of them,

when the meaning has escaped leaving

strange and scary static in your mind,

when the definitions of love and life

and hope and friendship and faith

have all deserted the dictionary of your heart,

when there is no conversation, so sentence

left that could ease you or cure this,

when you reach the dark abyss of wordlessness

remember the African drum, the whistle of

wind, remember the pulsing pounding

blood banging in your heart.  Remember

the rhythm, the music, the beat, remember

the coyote calls without words,

the songbird sings without vocabulary.

When all the words are gone, remember

we are musical beings who built drums

long before we wrote dictionaries, beings

that sang perfectly comprehensible songs

long before we invented language.  Remember

that when all the words have failed you

the music still remains.

 

 

 

 

December 29 2009

 

 

There is no prison bar

so strong as what you

father taught you,

told you, ingrained

in your mind.  There is no

fortress less escapable

than what you mother

mislead you to believe

and beat into your heart.

The land is an evil barren

prison you can only work

work and work in for nothing.

There is no crime punished

with such suffering as this.

But somewhere, hidden in

the deepest untouchable

safe hold of the soul

there is a key that unlocks

this latitude of lies and

lets you escape to the

wide open wondrous

world outside.  And that

world is waiting for your

arrival with open arms,

arms wider than your

wildest imagination

all waiting to embrace you

once you make your escape.

Go and find your key.

The world is waiting for you.

 

 

***************************

 

I know you are no acrobat,

no great performer, actor,

imposter of someone they

said you should be.  I know.

If you were any of those

things, I would not be lying

here beside you in this bed.

I would not be lying beside

something beautiful and

true.  I know you cannot

force your body to bend

to the God of money, I

know, you cannot disguise

your scars or your heart.

And I know everyday

you look at me feeling

you have falling short,

failed to be all you

should be for me. 

If only, I could make

you know the only

way you could ever

let me down is if you

were to be anything

other than who you

truly are.

 

********************

 

 

 

If we start this

this arguing, this need,

this greed.  If we begin

trying to take, sealing

what we want.  If we

become a grabbing

for just want we each

want for ourselves.

If we stop being an

exchange of gifts

between two souls

that have not always

enough for themselves

but always enough

to give the other.

If we stop giving

this love, this courage,

this structural support

of shoulders and arms.

If we just start taking

there will not be enough

to satisfy one or the other and we

will fall from each other.

But together in this sharing

in this exchange together

we will always have

enough for three.  If we

continue feeding

each other’s hearts

there will forever

be plenty for you

and me

an us.

 

 

 

December 27 2009

 

February Freeze

 

I know even your ghosts are cold tonight,

with the winter chill whirling and

the masses of legs and coats passing

too busy to fill your cup or offer something

warm as a smile, a kind glace, or heaven

forbid a soothing conversation.  There were

cold, cold nights in the war you fought in.

But never, not on the farthest, snowiest

battlefield that broke you was it ever

as cold as it is on this city street tonight.

 

 

***********

 

 

I am not asking

for you to love every

sharp edge of my shattered soul,

not asking for complete devotion

to my sudden sorrows and

frequent pushing away.

I would never expect you

to accept every strange belief

the wolves that raised me taught me.

Not even wanting you to approve

of my delusional but well ingrained

insanely untrue views of certain

aspects of human nature and

the workings of the world.

I am only asking you to love

the collective of all of me,

to appreciate my kindness

though I was never taught it,

for your heart to fill my heart

that still loves though it has

been beaten and shattered

in countless cruel ways. 

I am only asking for you

to take all of me as someone

greater and more beautiful

than any individual piece of me

regardless of which parts

are good or bad.

And in return,

I will love the whole of you,

laugh with the joyful pieces of you,

cradle the crying bumps and bruises of you,

be patient with the frustrated and angry bits,

adore the courage that has raised you

above your raising,

Am an only asking

that we love one another with the knowing,

that we are like mathematics where

the whole is always greater

than the sum of its individual parts.

 

******************

 

Solitude is too shallow

of a word to describe

the depths of his empty ocean.

How a man reaches this

uncharted barren underworld

is far from any imagining

but somehow still

he has arrived

at the deepest

canyon below

the coldest sea.

No family.  No mother.

No father.  Orphaned

from the world itself.

No friend remaining.

And even the memory

of love long gone.

He is not even a fish

in this wilderness

of dark water.

Something primordial

something pre-evolution.

Something that has painfully

yet miraculously reach

that point of such nothingness

that only creation remains.

It is a slow and lonely process

he struggles with, first growing

fins, then gills, then swimming

again.  Finding his way up the

water towards a level where

a little light seeps in.  He grows

eyes, his own eyes, untainted

by society.  He is slowly

evolving into his own being.

See, it is only when all others

are gone, that one can find

one’s own self, can become

exactly as one was created

and not what one was made.

Floating closer to the surface he

creates his own lips and an

un-jaded fresh heart.  He sprouts

arms that only want to hold, legs

that let him return to the surface

of a world he left long ago.

And with his new eyes, with his new

heart, it is a new world he finds.

It is a world he will define

with his own mind

this time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

November 8 2009

 

Cross the Emptiness

 

At the edge of the great canyon,

the emptiness inside your ribs is clearest.

Air is all that you have left as you look at your

trembling hands wondering if they are too

weak to try now at this far too late time

to build, to hammer, to make it possible

to deliver you to the other side of life,

to the living, to where alive

is a heartbeat rhythm that fills

your flesh.  Build bridges you tell

yourself, build wings, build anything,

just get to the other side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aug 25th, 2009

 

Knowing

 

I have read the names of ghosts written on your back.

In the evenings, I kiss each one goodnight.

You keep your son’s broken heart locked in the

curve of your left side.  Your right shoulder prays

I will be his new mother.  A volume of painful

poems fills the back of your hand, spilling

into your cracked knuckles.  Your fingers refuse

to write.  And every muscle in your legs is

pushing the broken and the dead up and

out of their graves.

 

You recognize the faces of tortured women

trapped in the lower part of my abdomen.

You have met my lost brothers through

the ripples of my ribs across my heart.

You know the courage in the curve of my spine.

You know my knees have betrayed me many times.

You wish you had been there to catch me.

You have even found the endless laughter hidden in my toes.

 

We have navigated our histories and mapped

it all out on our bodies.  Knowing each other

so well that skin becomes nothing more

than a thin transparency that we can never again

hide behind.

 

 

 

 

Aug 4th, 2009

 

 

Somehow the summer still

grows strange flowers

we collect in blue vases

like prayers we forget to say

all the rose beads scattering

like raindrops in a lazy

sun shower and the

half forgotten trinity

we never really did

believe in anyway

Years ago we were

barefooted singing to

an audience of only God-

No agent no pr rep at

the almighty’s side

just the great divine

dining on our little voices

you and me swaying before him

like the summer flowers

we keep in blue vases

like the prayers we

no longer remember

how to sing.

 

 

 ***********************

 

You take the bang and clang

a little jagged rhythm you know

I will not play.  Over and over

it is half a marching tune half

the dance of the dead

and you tell me

every beat

brings you

somehow

back to me

to the blending

bend where

light voices

drift along

a warriors drum

and we are safely

somewhere

together

in the space

between

dancing

you and me.

 

**************************** 

 

 

You never shouted

spit fire wire boy dreams

the way you do when we

can’t find lips to kiss

like this and maybe that

how do you expect to

bring it back I’ll bring

the megaphone for you

to make love louder than

lips that can’t find lips

kiss that can’t kiss

what do we do with this?

 

 

********************************

 

July 25th, 2009

 

 

I Have Nothing Left To Sell To You

 

At the age of four I worked in my parent’s store.

We were known for having the best pizzas in town.

It was my job to grade the cheese.  I always cut my

 knuckles wide open.  So we sold my skin and blood

to hungry families who unknowingly devoured me.

At 7 I sold my innocence trying to get tourist to buy

 ice cream so my family could make ends meet.

At 12 I sold my pride to work in a Catholic School

cafeteria scraping the plates of my rich classmates

for a dollar a day.

At  15 I sold my convictions when I was forced

to work as a cook at the burger joint, though I did

 for a another year or so still remain a vegetarian.            

At 16 I traded in my honesty for a telemarketing job.

At 17 I sold my sense of worth to women who said

they were better than me.  Yet my coworkers

at that store still seemed to believe in me.

At 18 I sold a little cleavage at the pub every night.

At 19 I lowered my head, folded my hands

and sold my voice to an Asian motel owner

who hated Americans.  After that, I didn’t

think there was much left for me to sell.

At 20 I sold my sex for a chicken burrito, a

pack of cigarettes, and a place to sleep that night.

At 21 I’d sell you anything for a bottle of vodka,

just don’t ask me to smile for you.

By 22 I had nothing left at all to sell.

And now, even if I had every dime I ever made

it still wouldn’t be enough for me to buy my self back.