Thursday, 5 February 2015

2 Poems by Pamela C. Vandall

Distortion

I am in love.  Not with you
   but with the moment
    you hesitated
and I captured you,
   kept you suspended
   on the cedar planks
of the Capilano bridge.
   I know you won't change, will
   never enter the gaping
wound that ethers below.
   It's easy to hold you
   --love this thin can be held
from the outside-in.
   You dangle above
   my watering eyes, double
exposed yet more focused
   then I ever could be.
   I love the way you look,
the way your hands flutter up
   like fledglings in mid-flight.

(Previously Published)


Matrimonial Cake

The honeymoon is over and now I hurl
things at your head for impact.  I usually miss
the mark but make a point.  Other times I punish

you with silence, sprawl out on the sofa
till I choose to make up our bed.  When the mood strikes
I list off all the things you've done to hurt me,

lay it down like bricks between us and then stare
blankly at the wall like it's the frame
of our future  --dark, cold and unforgiving.

I have to admit I've defended myself
with lines from chick flicks, peeled out of the driveway
for dramatic effect.  I've picked up the phone

laughed heartily into the receiver
and then made romantic dinner plans
with the dial tone.  Other times I've left

the yellow pages opened up to divorce
lawyers, left my computer on match.com,
a passport and bikini at the front door.

I recall the time you smacked me and I applied
lipstick and rouge so I'd look more tender to you,
an English rose wing tipped in black petals.  I do

these things because of the matrimonial cake
we served at our wedding.  Mother reminded us
of its bumpy top, sweet filling and firm base.

Neither of us remembers how it tastes
but we both agree there were many dates
and after that it crumbled apart in our hands.


Bionote

Pamela is the author of two chapbooks of poetry: “Something from Nothing” (Writing Knights Press) and “Woodwinds” (Lipstick Press). Pamela’s first full length poetry collection is forthcoming.  She was recently nominated for a Pushcart.  When Pamela is not writing she's sleeping.  She believes sleep is death without the commitment.  She lives on Gabriola Island, BC with her husband and two children.

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