Post-coital Aegis

Post-coital Aegis

He's out of town again
Another strange hotel
Laying on a new to him bed
That doesn't have his imprint from old dreams

She waits at home
Always waiting for something
Always worried about those new beds

She takes a sponge bath on those mornings
Keeping a patch of skin he touched from the soap
so a trace of him isn't completely washed away

And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home

She never drinks all the coffee he made before he left.
Adds new grounds on top of old ones
brews a desperate blend
mixing what was left with what will be

And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home

In the evening he will call
And they will talk about the somedays.
Someday she will have no babies to take care of
and she can go with him
Someday he can retire
and they will never sleep alone

And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home

She sleeps on his side of the bed
Before sleeping, opens his closet door
just enough so that the light inside comes on
Letting the light spilling out be a candle in the window

And then she sleeps on the imprint of his old dreams


And she waits
And she worries
Until he comes home

          Annie Miller
       7am June 13, 2005

Annie's Prayer

Annie's Prayer 

Sweet cupid soothe his sorrowed heart 
And brush away the tear stained lock, 
From his still worried brow. 
Gentle as a baby's breath, 
Remove the arrow you did strike. 
A glorious red center spot 
In my sweet lovers soul. 
Remove the pain, 
erase the want. 
His suffering hold at bay. 
Even if, to lose the pain, 
My name he now knows not. 
Then, as to him, 
guard soft, 
guard sweet, 
And love-pierce his heart again tomorrow. 
From she which sits upon his hearth, 
And can his dear lips borrow, 
And keep secure and safe this heart 
That was my own, once ripped from me. 
But as to me, 
You leave ALONE. 
And never touch his arrow.
I choose to hear Love's Echo's Quest ... 
To comfort in this sorrow, 
And hold my memories close. 
Now as to me; fly, FLY away.
And never aim again at, 
For my heart has become as stone 
Forlorn. Apart. Aloof. Alone.
For my heart has become as clay,
Love cured, 
Kill-fired, 
Empty vat 
Hard --- white --- as ancient bone. 

Sent from my iPhone

Soul's Echo

Soul's Echo
Deep inside my warrior heart, 
There lies a shameless spark
Of Pollyanna hopefulness, 
To dreams dreamed in the dark.
I dream that my human essence has a single echo, 
A sole echo, somehow split apart … 
And now it lives inside another,
A man like no other, 
Who resonates to my heart. 
I occupy a wasteland, vast and barren 
with canyons everywhere,
and when my soul does cry out 
no soul echoes answer there.
I travel light, yet weary, 
the hot wind in my face.
I travel long and clearly 
I cannot find my Soul's echo's place
I dream of always, ALL ways.  
I search for you, in sleep and at wake! 
My soul cries across the gully and waits for soul echo's sake.
Still waits for Soul's echoes sake.
Do you dream of this echo? 
This shadow of your soul?
Do you search yourself, in secret?
Or do you finally let go, 
then seek some other goal? 
Do you finally forget? 
Forget...
forget...
forget....
Echooooooooo's Soul?
Annie Miller 8/19

Sent from my iPhone

Telempathy

Telempathy by Annie Miller

Sitting in my big arm chair and reading a new book 
feeling you there across from me 
as you pause and glance up to take a look
softly smile with the joy of me in your eyes
then a hesitation, and the smile shines a little less
the gravity of it all takes its toll
a sadness shadows over you
of regret and haunting heavy wishes

I wish I could rise to take you in my lap, 
rock your head against my breast and kiss your temple, 
kisses light as faith where your heart beats near my lips
kiss until the thoughts ease a bit
kiss until the guilt falls asleep

but I cannot rise to hold you
I cannot heal with touch
because you are not really here

And my empty arms ache like a mother's full breasts ache with need to feed her crying child
My empty arms ache with need to feed my soul 
and it's distant echo

you are two thousand miles away
a different place 
a different life
a different room
a different comforter who doesn't comfort

yet I know as sure as I am
that you feel me near 

and when you forget to forget,
look up and do see me then

smile deep inside your mind in that distant secret spot that is still our home
allow a moment of light and lightness 

before your self imposed sentry makes you pick up the sackcloth,
carry on the heavy weight of the ashes you eat daily
as if it were water you must drink to live

Annie Miller
3:00 am
7/9/02


Sent from my iPhone

Dragon in Ice

Dragon in Ice  by Annie Miller

Like iceberg wind on winter sand
My words blow bitter cold
Frozen sandpaper 
against the gate of my throat

The pressure of anger unresolved,
a lava passion contained
There is a secret pleasure in heated words,
a warmth to the unrestrained

my self imposed politeness
make nice is how you do it
a censor in the quietness
dont let the monster out at all

else you may lose your world.


unhobbled …
he will devour 
everything you love.

So where to go from here?
How to help silence the worst ....
How to help heed the best?

I see no solution near.
Can you find a muzzle for the beast,
without muting all the rest?

TAB
12/21/01     4:16:28 AM
Sent from my iPhone

"The Conjugation of Paramecium"

The Conjugation of Paramedium by Annie Miller
"The Conjugation of Paramecium" 
December 5, 2000 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~    
  
In  my  lowfat  salad  days  
when  the  major  carbs  I  consumed  
were  of  the  hops  variety,  
back  when  weighing  125  was  too  fat,  
I  was  a  student  of  science.  
  
Oh  so  smarty  pants  me,  
smirking  on  a  full  scholarship,  
double  majoring  
in  Biology  and  Chemistry.  
I  loved  the  lab  work,  
perfected  the  way  to  ace  a  pratical.  
  
Biology  was  my  nature.  
  
And  nothing  sparked  my  passion  more 
than  that  sense  of  discovery  
everytime  I  held  a  scalpel  in  my  hand  
or  turned  the  dial  to  adjust  
power  in  my  microscope. 
  
Ohhh  those  days  ...  
those  wonderfully  different  days.  
Black  and  white  only  light.  
A  world  of  structured  absolutes.  
  
Where  I  was  certain  I  could  find  
(if  I  didn't  already  know)  
the  answer  to  any  question.  
A  hubris  
that  only  having  children  could  destroy.  
  
I  loved  the  romance  of  the  words  
as  well  as  the  scientific  method,  
there  was  a  romance  under  the  order.  
  
Phrases  like;  
Mendel's  Laws  of  Heredity,  Bacillus  thuringiensis,  Transgenic  animal,  Electrophoresis,  Chromosome  walking,  Genetic  engineering,  Immortalizing  oncogene,  Cell  Organelles,  Medulla  oblongata,  Carolus  Linnaeus,  Double  helix,  Escherichia  coli,  Genetic  assimilation,  Deoxyribonucleic  acid,  Vitreous  Fluid,  Dichotomous  Key,  Xiphoid  process,  Ilium,  Ischium,  Lacrimal  duct,  Mitochondrial  Eukaryotes,  Proximal  view,  Occipital  ridge,  Corpus  callosum,  Islets  of  Langerhans.....  
  
This  list  could  go  on  and  on  and  on  ...  
so  many  beautiful  exotic  sounding  terms  ...  
and  all  sounding  so  magical  to  me,  
talismanic  words,  
more  powerful  than  "open  sesame". 
  
So  many  words,  terms  I  adore,  but  my  favorite?  
  
That  one  must  be  "The  conjugation  of  paramecium".  
  
"The  conjugation  of  paramecium".  
  
Say  it  with  me.  Doesn't  it  speak  of  science  in  the  mystery? 
  
A  Paramecium  is  a  little  slipper  footed  single  celled  creature.  
Ciliated,somewhat  like  a  dandylion's  skin  
before  the  wind  takes  the  fluff  away.  
Paramecium  ... 
A  fuzzy  furry  creature  shaped  like  a  fat  pea  pod.  
It  usually  lives  in  fresh  water  
and  is  so  small  
its  barely  visible  to  the  naked  eye 
just  a  tiny  pinpoint 
in  a  jar  held  up  to  light. 
details  can  only  be  seen  under  a  microscope.  
Paramecium  ...  
paramecium  caudatum  
the  species  of  choice  for  basic  academia 
to  teach  cell  division. 
  
See,  paramecium  usually  do  it  alone 
Aesexual  reproduction  or  Mitosis  it  is  called. 
The  poor  thing  decides  its  time  to  be  two  not  one. 
and  does  it  on  its  own. 
  
But  when  things  get  bad 
and  the  world  gets  mean 
and  it  fears  extinction 
it  seeks  out  others  of  its  kind 
and  finding  someone  simular 
gets  close  and  closer 
first  making  sure  they  are  the  same 
  
and  then  it  gets  closer  still 
  
untill 
  
they  touch  and  then  touch  more 
and  they  find  each  others  notch 
and  get  even  closer  still 
then  they  shiver 
and  they  shake 
and  they  quiver  like  
a  mini  earthquake 
  
and  they  exchange  bits  of  themselves 
they  share  their  personal  architecture 
a  few  building  blocks  here  and  there 
and  the  shaking  stops 
and  they  seperate 
  
hoping  the  connection  
and  the  giving  
make  them  strong  enough 
to  survive  another  day. 
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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