Poems by Tanya Ranta

 

1997

Three Sisters
 
Sitting in low light
we study dust that lingers on the bottom of lamps
and strangely unworn sneakers
think about days of youth
and moving past borders

We are all far beyond the days of crying
about people we barely knew
yet wished we were with on the holidays

We mourn the dead and exult in our reunions
the separation leaves a bitter taste
but we became one again yesterday
pigtails, ponytails, hair clips, barrettes
grew into hockey sticks and written words
big opinions
and bonds that never die

 

Crayon Sky

sometimes the sky looks like it's been colored with a crayon
a different hue for a different you
one of Crayola's more obscure colors
when the sun sets, it's macaroni and cheese
on rainy nights, it's cornflower
color it any way you want
on those humdrum days
the in-betweeners
a medium blue
or a solid black
as if black could come in a deeper shade
days of love are colored red
like blood
when your heart breaks
and spills everywhere
now I finally understand why it's red
but I still don't know why leaves are green
all chemicals aside
not every ocean is blue
some are green
most are black
that's not the crayon's fault
but the person holding it
and still the sky looks colored
but today, it's been colored with sky blue
I'll bet that was hard to come up with
white cushions of clouds
with an orange/yellow sun
for a honey blonde girl
standing in the shade

 

Meet Me

meet me on the other side
things will work out there
maybe I won't be so tired
and you won't be so exasperated

meet me on the track
the one between the two dim lights
no one seems to care to fix them
we'll recognize each other by our shadows
and shadows hold hands to become one
when they've become afterthoughts to everyone else

I'll remember you
the way I always have
and I'll still smell like vanilla
we will bury our heads
on shoulders that have felt the weight
of many pains and troubles
and I'll pull you into me
to keep us safe

 

2001
 

It's Like

sometimes it's like flying over clouds
and looking down on something too beautiful
where I can barely contain
my excitement
and I start dreaming about how good it all could be
and sometimes
it's like dying
as if I'd know what the actual process feels like
I've watched people die
slowly
with no control over it
I've dealt with what death can provide
in a heartbeat
or a ticking clock hand
waiting for the arms that embrace you
but never will again
pulling at me
wanting all of me
sometimes
it feels like I'll never know
which is the right one
and when I can let go

 

Imperfect

When you think you have it all figured out
think again
there will always be some intangible
something you've forgotten
that will screw up your perfect plans
nothing works exactly how you want it to
every moment has a kink in it
perfection simply isn't attainable
in a world of imperfect people
and imperfect situations

 

Looking Back

my childhood was happier than I initially thought it was
we all think our traumas are bigger than everyone else's
in looking back
I realize that it was a cakewalk
compared to being an adult
in this cannibal world
where everyone wants to reduce you to tears
and no one can offer any real solace

 

Rain, In Particular

it delivers me from this world
and makes me think of nothing
in particular
it feels so good on my bare skin
and the sound lulls me to slumber
I don't want to leave my bed
on days like this
it shuts down everything else
and makes important
nothing in particular
I will linger in thought
or breathe deep
and smell the musty air
it will make me want to never return
to anything in particular
except maybe my youth
where daydreams are still something you can have
all day long

 

2002

in my bones

feel the breeze in your hair
and in your face
it's all you have left
there are memories
and people who've evaporated
perished
things fall apart
and getting older isn't graceful
you're starting to find gray in your hair
and the lines are becoming prominent
around your eyes
thirties are a brutal time period
it gets worse
I can feel it
in my bones

 

It's Over

I am sure that it is over
the days of pining and whining
looking for some kind of meaning
and a sense of security
yet I can't help but feel
like my world but buckle
under the weight of burdens
that may never be relieved
in my lifetime
I've seen too much
and felt far more
there is always an opinion
stronger than mine
to override
any train of thought
and I'm weakening
I can feel it in my bones
something's coming to a close
it's a matter of time
before it's revealed
and I am sent
spiraling again
and for the last time

 

Wet Signal

the rain still hypnotizes me
and takes my mind away
from some pressing matters
like driving
sometimes
I don't realize
that it pays to pay attention
as I get older
and realize I know less and less
but I know
that this vertical soaking
keeps me sane
it would have went well with
my morning coffee
and that little bit of empty
that never really goes away

 

2003

Blue Or Gray

it's a longing
that's felt every morning
turning over to look out the window
with the blinds slightly opened
all you can see is sky
whether it's blue or gray
you never really want to rise
and tackle anything
but a few more hours of sleep
it will be harder in the fall
when the cooler air seeps in
and makes me wrap myself
with the thick comforter
that ends up on the floor in the summer
I think of simpler times
and wonder why it is that we all
work so hard
when we all deserve the basic rights
we end up paying for all the time
so I lower my head back down
close my eyes
and take myself back to my youth
and back to slumber

 

How Many

how many feet
must I walk
to find this salvation
how many days must pass
before the energy leaves me
and a lack of desire renders me
without a care
how many people
need to move in and out
of my life
before I decide to give
less and less of myself
and crawl
further into my corner
growing older
but feeling the same
as I did as a small child

 

Trade In

we can still feel
the thump and pound of hearts
that know the rush
blood flows quickly to the face
we want and want
when we never should
we take stock from time to time
feel as if we need to trade in, like cars
for a newer, sleeker, better model
it's exciting to think
of a different life
and confusing
when you hit an age
that can't clarify what you really need
only the want and desire
to feel like every day
is the first date
first kiss - touch...

 

2004

Wilderness

you are weighing your life
by the amount of letdowns
shutting out everyone who ever cared
as mail goes unanswered
and stories meet an abrupt end
you only fade into memory
once full of life
now, only a name in the distance

I wait and wonder
how it is that I let you down
continue with everyday life
search the wilderness in my head
looking for your shadow

 

She Who Remains Faceless

you are forgetful
this kind of inconsideration
will leave you alone
completely
letters left unanswered
calls never made
choosing to hide in your melancholy
a home too familiar
and routine
blissfully unaware
you stay an enigma to most
but not quite interesting enough
for anyone to work at finding out
who you really are
close your blinds
evaporate into the nameless faces
sigh and sleep and die

 

The Aging Process

there is a hole
where your life used to be
everyone is leading separate lives
pieces of your world lay scattered
all about the dirt
that covers this earth
festive moments bring you together
but any chance of reliving youth
is all but gone
while your grow up
and others grow out
with age dusting your hair with gray or white
cover it all up
and fight with everything you have

 


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