S.J. Goldner Poems

Burning thy bridges—dost thou make you happy, my daughter?
When all is said and done, will you not be standing in a heaping pile
of ash and soot? Of the wreckage of a life once so well-lived;
I love you, my daughter—but I cannot stand by to see this:
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(slight edit)

The days since you
have been more than difficult.
...

I search for things to cloud my mind,
to maintain a dulling of the pain.
The suffering is drowning,
but the sense of self is ever-growing.
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I will continue to live.
To love is an option.
When life has torn your gut out
and swallowed it whole,
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A petite blonde gives her beau a lingering hug in the street;
she is leaving him and i can feel the bittersweetness of their parting.

An elder couple, hand-in-hand, wait to cross the avenue
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I looked up at her, “I can dance.”
No kidding. Let's see.
“Don't you like the way I dance?
Darling I like everything you do.
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If your cat stays at the sliding glass door, stares - oh she stares -
feeling like a slave when indoors
you might have on your hands, a yard cat for sure!
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this is the beginning
this is the end.

Swamped and deranged
...

I'm librating betwixt
The cool and the unoriginal.
Someone help me out—
Tell me what's stale
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Maybe I'll die when I'm twenty-five
And maybe you'll love me then.
If I die when I'm twenty-five
Will you be sure to tell me when
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