nine horses

{photo credit: me}

book one of my christmas books.

nine horses: poems by billy collins.

mr. collins is my favorite. i was introduced to him in college by a boy i had a fleeting crush on, and, unlike this particular boy, billy caught and captured my full attention, reeling me in. he writes mostly about simple things, everyday occurrences, but the words he uses are so magical and vivid. he turns something like forgetting a book and walking back into the house to retrieve one into a philosophical quandary.

"i go back to the house for a book"

i turn around on the gravel 
and go back to the house for a book, 
something to read at the doctor’s office, 
and while i am inside, running the finger 
of inquisition along a shelf, 
another me that did not bother 
to go back to the house for a book 
heads out on his own, 
rolls down the driveway, 
and swings left toward town, 
a ghost in his ghost car, 
another knot in the string of time, 
a good three minutes ahead of me— 
a spacing that will now continue 
for the rest of my life. 
sometimes i think i see him 
a few people in front of me on a line 
or getting up from a table 
to leave the restaurant just before i do, 
slipping into his coat on the way out the door. 
but there is no catching him, 
no way to slow him down 
and put us back in synch, 
unless one day he decides to go back 
to the house for something, 
but i cannot imagine 
for the life of me what that might be. 
he is out there always before me, 
blazing my trail, invisible scout, 
hound that pulls me along, 
shade i am doomed to follow, 
my perfect double, 
only bumped an inch into the future, 
and not nearly as well-versed as i 
in the love poems of ovid— 
i who went back to the house that fateful winter morning and got the book.

see what i mean? wicked sweet. billy was the poet laureate of the US from 2001-2003 for good reason.  i hate to say his poetry is "accessible" because it makes me sound like a poetry snob or some polished highbrow, and i am far from it (you're not surprised). so, instead, i will say his poetry can be enjoyed without the use of a poetry concordance. this is something i appreciate. it's how i prefer to write poetry (when i do), and i think when you can write about something simple such as a rainy day or the shape of an orange, and keep your readers' attention, it is quite a talent.

check him out and read a few of his poems if you care to. i'm already more then halfway through nine horses, but i'll definitely be going back through and taking in a few of the poems more slowly.

do you have a favorite poet or poem? do you know of any poet whose style matches billy's? i'd love to know!

fall back

{photo credit}

found this poem through emma jane's blog. what beautiful words. she is quite talented. fall is my favorite season for so many reasons, and i think she hits the nail on the head. read on. 

i felt the fall air today

for the first time this year.

summer set,

fall tiptoed in through

the back door,

softly,

almost unnoticed.

she brushed past the kitchen,

she strayed down the stairs,

she gussied up in the mirror in the hall.

she didn't knock as she

pushed in sideways through

my bedroom door,

barely clearing the crack.

i sighed in my sleep,

briefly stirring as she

kissed my forehead

and held my hand.

"everything is starting again,

my love. everything will change.

everything will grow as

the leaves drift down to sleep

on loamy, grassy beds.

the pieces will fall back into place,

your heart will heal and mend,

as the summer sun will end."

i smiled at her speech,

the kindness in her eyes.

"don't take too long, dear fall,

to bring my pieces back to me.

my bed is cold.

i don't want to feel the

winter chill

without his hand."

"winter was lonely and long,

spring was all pastels,

garish and sad.

summer was rash and hollow,

full of reminders and regret.

but i, my love, i blow the

leaves about, clear the dust

from strained and aching eyes.

fall is your shelter,

fall will bring you peace,

fall makes it all fall back,

the puzzle in your head and heart

finally solved.

sleep now, dear heart,

and do not dread the cold.

until your heart is back in his hand,

my hand won't leave your side."

as i slept

she brushed my hair,

sang me mountain hymns of

sprites and kings,

lionhearts and their maidens.

i dreamt of my lionheart,

our chilly days past

and future, falling into place

in her crisp gaze.

welcome fall.

i go back to the house for a book

{photo credit}

I turn around on the gravel

and go back to the house for a book,

something to read at the doctor's office,

and while I am inside, running the finger

of inquisition along a shelf,

another me that did not bother

to go back to the house for a book

heads out on his own,

rolls down the driveway,

and swings left toward town,

a ghost in his ghost car,

another knot in the string of time,

a good three minutes ahead of me —

a spacing that will now continue

for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I think I see him

a few people in front of me on a line

or getting up from a table

to leave the restaurant just before I do,

slipping into his coat on the way out the door.

But there is no catching him,

no way to slow him down

and put us back in synch,

unless one day he decides to go back

to the house for something,

but I cannot imagine

for the life of me what that might be.

He is out there always before me,

blazing my trail, invisible scout,

hound that pulls me along,

shade I am doomed to follow,

my perfect double,

only bumped an inch into the future,

and not nearly as well-versed as I

in the love poems of Ovid —

I who went back to the house

that fateful winter morning and got the book. 

-billy collins

i was reminded recently of how much i love this poem. 

the photo was taken by my gorgeous and talented friend, tierney. 

check out her work on her facebook page here. 

virginia is for lovers

{photo credit}

who is whose lover?

who does the barista go home to at night,

and what does he say to make her smile?

does the man in the grey coat

have someone to adore?

and if he does,

does he kiss her and hold her tightly?

{photo credit}

has the old couple lost that loving feeling?

or do they still cuddle in the dark

and watch black and white movies

with cereal bowls of popcorn?

does that thin teenage girl
have a boyfriend to call
when she gets home from the mall?
will they spend hours on the phone,
talking about skittles and homeroom?

{photo credit}

and the librarian.

when was the last time she had a date?

i guess we’ll never know

by her stone-faced expression,

the tale of two cities

three-fourths of the way open

in her lap.


you're welcome for that silly poem i wrote in college. you like how it doesn't rhyme? yeah, i'm edgy like that. seriously, folks. whether or not you have a significant other in your life, valentine's day is a day to show all of your loved ones that you do, in fact, love them.  how will you be doing this? i'll be bringing candy valentines to work to hand out to my co-workers. i will also be dressing in pink and red because a lot of people hate that color combination, and i like to push their buttons. tomorrow night, my roommate and our friend liz are planning a valentine's themed dinner. think steaks, roasted potatoes, caprese salad, fondue, wine for toasting. cheers and cheers!

happy valentine's day!
xoxo, lacey

dancing towards bethlehem

{photo credit: weheartit.com}

dancing towards bethlehem 

if there is only enough time in the final 

minutes of the 20th century for one last dance 

i would like to be dancing it slowly with you, 

say, in the ballroom of a seaside hotel. 

my palm would press into the small of your back 

as the past hundred years collapsed into a pile 

of mirrors or buttons or frivolous shoes, 

just as the floor of the 19th century gave way 

and disappeared in a red cloud of brick dust. 

there will be no time to order another drink 

or worry about what was never said, 

not with the orchestra sliding into the sea 

and all our attention devoted to humming 

whatever it was they were playing. 
-billy collins

oh, billy. you are my favorite.