Breaking up is hard to do
       let's rise take it easy
       Waking- up don't be lazy
My morning glory spiritual stretch
Soothe me like a tranquilizer
His words are my pacifier
The shooting star sprinkling shot

Stars work dot to dot
They connect get rid of all
broken heart subjects
Soothe me star even if there
is nothing to do
We need to do something
Earth wind and fire just
knock-me-out
Don't lock me and throw away
the star key is it going to Key- West
 Daylight no broken light in my
        Star stuff- sight
Light to the dark twilight

Those zillions of stars my
eyes closed I suppose
Take another look lovely rose
The same spot share the good stuff
I saw the soothing words
Star pointed toes who knows
Evenor to out-win the odds?

Not the starry night
Going through something
It's been a hard day night
One star light years to fight
Breathe in and soothe me
It was up to me not to blind me
My cool spirit meditation table

The New York soothing menu
Rendezvous all talk but delicious
She is tough walking
The hardest avenue
The *Positive me even if its the
broken up me that's the only me
No one can take his place to soothe me

French fondue it suits her another clue
Red White moody blues the statue
Do you all agree? Another feel good
shopping spree are the stars true
I cannot even say soothing-word
Your home is your oasis love stuff
                Venus

Sooth me star stuff no one to minus

The hard stuff is to better yourself
The feel-good smooth flowing
Even if you missed your star
You're the no star he's is always late
Soothe me star may be my fate
Cafe warm running lattte late

The forever flight hit so hard
  Got_  Thrown brick harder
They say remorse is the
poison of life
And divorce could be the best
change in someone's life

OH! Lord The new? Hard cushion/night
"The winding rough road see the light"
*It may be tough but make it good deed
Athletic Girly curve walk
The pep talk she had the tough birth
The Preppy he's training the puppy stuff
You don't have to be a star it doesn't matter

Who you are
Never get in the middle of a dare
Show the whole world you care
Puff the magic dragon
Harder side of logic is the mission
Been Moonstruck light flick
Both mouths a volcano

Hard star stuff ham and swiss hero
Exploring new stuff
Please take it from pointed star
beware?
She walks like she is hot stuff
Those color forms of love stuff
Things and stuff
Stuff and things

Walking through the end of
the exit
It a hard position of the angle
Tough to be single even more
to deal with lotsa stuff to be married
Being the first online
I am getting a handle on my stuff

Indie Pop like Ice Queen Pop
Going mainstream
She's Brook long stream
He's under the influence
She doesn't nearly have
the up to par patience
Gifts of curiosity

Adjusting to reality
Hard life too much focus
On our happiness
He's coming home
breadwinner of money
Just one loaf of
bread she blossoms
Disavows humanity

The harder the words
How it challenges our sanity

Dark crayon hard stuff
Heavy_Rough__Tough
Wild Hawaii Say Hi to all our
blissfully but soothing hearts
She is like a hard sandpaper
He is so cool reading his
worldly carefree life

He is inside the newspaper
Big Ben London guard
How mindset like Hallmark card
Too much Holiday Turkey going
****** tunes when there is I tunes
So powerless word hard ingenious
Be thankful for what you have
But feeling too much
of the dry spell that rain fall
Going to that heavenly gifted secret
Like an Elephant, you are

the tough one the smart one magnet
No-one is perfect to be the
brilliant one
The star way of the fantasy
Nothing fancy doesn't make you jump
Presidential Trump Roger Rabbit
My lucky tower rabbit foot
Between a hard rock meets her sexuality

Having bad luck long shot solitude
Hallucinations all dark things hurt
My imagination world is sometimes
belly overstuffed Santa Claus
I love the hard candy bitter- sweet metal
Who gets the Metals and honors
The Terminators better leaders

PJ-Clarkes Princeton NJ
Superman Clark Kents
We need more therapy events
Princeton pancakes no remakes
And tons of maple syrup
***** Tonk women at the rodeo
Her horse lucky hoof sooth me

Stars real stuff
New York City roof ruff ruff
A hard rock and critters
And then you wake
back to the hard stuff
Soothe your pain the goodness of the rain

baby girl,
beautiful precious African queen
stop being a princess waiting on prince charming
(its a disguise of thin foil on a trojan horse)
and be,
be the queen your meant to be
shake off the childish attitude and desires
the bell of womanhood has rung, way past
the dawn bring the new world
maturity here we come
i got your back
your true friend

personal journal musings from last week...*

Stopped in at my neighborhood pub last night
  a couple of pints, some word exchange
Colorful place on a perfect Spring evening
  people on tap, constantly spilling in and out

The place is bustling and packed
  loud and dynamic
Sound flowing on open air
  drifting in from sidewalk patio and out to beer garden

Luckily nab a lonely stool near the entrance
  girl sitting kitty-corner around curving end of bar
Casually we cover topics from her mac 'n cheese
  to wind chill generated by ceiling fans

Conversation is suddenly confiding
  prior night's end-all fight with her live-in boyfriend
Obvious need to talk to someone neutral
  bartenders are busy, so it's me and we do

She's come seeking emotional sanctuary
  awaiting his departure to some event
Unhappy with her role in the argument
  unhappy with the person she has become with him

They'd intended to go ring shopping
  as recently as last week
She now looks forward only to the comfort of
  quiet, pajamas, ice cream, dreamless sleep

Upon leaving, she twice asks that I promise
  to be here if she finds no solitude and must return
This is no request...more of an appeal
  alone in privacy is one thing...alone in festivity another

I promise twice - I'll be here
  she doesn't return
I sincerely hope that she's well on her way to
  an ice cream induced pj slumber

              Less than an hour later...same bar stool

Pleasingly boisterous bachelorette party arrives
  staking claim to a nearby parcel of floor
Numerous "excuse me" squeeze-throughs  for drink orders
  rendering me a semi-familiar bar obstacle

One reveless wedges in, questions me
  what color underpants do I have on...don't recall
Insists that we check...dark bluish-grey
  too bad...she was hoping for purple to match her own

Impishly waiting long enough for my mind to stew
  she finally reveals the query as part of a formal interactive checklist
I apologize for not being more daring in spectrum
  we laugh, nevertheless...strike one

Eventually exchanging pleasantries with another
  a more subtle approach, but the inquisition repeats
Here we go again...Batter up!...Red?...very sorry...strike two
  I'm feeling of no value to this effort

Red offers me a redeeming pitch from the list
  someone must serenade the bride-to-be
I accept and get to meet the veiled celebrity
  she wears an engaging and jubilant aura

Gauging the atmosphere, I decide against romantic
  opting for a song that playfully questions the sanity of her choice
From my heart, I sing the chorus to Matchbox Twenty's "Unwell"
  It goes over very well and I avoid strike three

She and I hit it off, we discuss her wedding plans
  discover our roots are in the same part of the city
I'm rewarded for my musical contribution
  allowed to buy her a shot of Patrón...the checklist dwindles

Now partaking in the excitement of their celebration  
  an honorary addition to the large but exclusive group
My joyous new acquaintance has us take a picture together
  a snapshot of this special occasion to which I've somehow been privileged

A train of waves, goodbyes, thanks, and good lucks
  trails the party as I watch it crawl to the next establishment
In the hushed cacophony, I return to my thoughts
  a fantastic diversity of emotional experience within two short hours

My elbows on the bar in sober contemplation
  counting crows ...one...two...juxtaposed
A contrast of simultaneous realities
  somberly lamenting vs vibrantly anticipating

Reflecting on the beauty in such contrasts
  that serve to define the images of our lives
I finally come to the inevitable conclusion
  it's time for another pint...of ice cream

dinner Greenport-side, watching the shuffling ferries do
their sworn duty, a back ‘n forth wearisome toll,
while we sip a rose and a PBR, respectively and with respect

no enthusiasm afterward for anything but an early off to bed,
and slip into pj’s asap

me in my knackered wholly Hanes fundie knickers,
no thinking required
but she
retires, re-attires in a summery combo,
a gray sweat t-shirt and green and white
plaid pj pants

which she is unawares are my favorites
cause they lop off fifty years,
a teenage woman re-incarnate recreated
cause her figure now womanly full,
better than then

morning awake l, a disturbance of the peace,
recall a snuggling a wake up hug,
and her bottoms conspicuously
gone missing

over break fast I inquire
over yogurt and berries and a
smoked mozzarella omelette,
what happened to those plaid bottoms?
assuming I was innocent of any transgressions
as best I could recall

with a sheepish childlike grin,
that made look like she was twenty again,
to match the now yoga toned body,
she confesses:

forgot to tie the bowstrings
and they slipped down to my ankles

blessed and cursed I thought!

too much of a gentleman to take advantage,
AND my situational awareness was slipping badly,
but when a poem comes across,
ready and pre-writ,
I’m still young enough to grab aholt of it

and never let go


6/23/18

Each rising sun,
A promise,
Each passing moment,
A hair's width,
                           Each breadth of a breath,
Exhalation or,
Inhalation,
Pause to recognize joy,
                                    JOY,
Signs of the seasons,
Coming or leaving,
A season of believing,
A reason of lifelong passion,
                                      fashioned,
After
Christ,
Are we there yet?
The journey is not easy,
The Winds not light or breezy,
Attest to the spirit Fire,
Earth not meant to be home
But the elements;
Of faith, make you whole,
Of love, embrace brokenness and hold them,
Of charity, it is better to give, and give, and
Of hope, until ...
And then the greatest of these, until, is Love.

Playing strip poker
for money
Being naked and busted
is just NOT funny

A moonlight stroll
when your ready for bed
For those that don't wear pj's
Enough said

Playing Musical Chairs
using only stools
is for people with equilibrium
but funny as Hell for drunken fools

DIY Home Salon
Hair Coloring
Purple with Orange Highlights
clash with pretty much everything

Frying a meal
when your ready to retire
Again, sans pj's
your literally playing with fire

Body Waxing
ANYWHERE
especially
... down there ;-)

I've fallen for your infectious smile,
it makes me giddy
I like my smile next to yours
I've fallen for our conversations,
the ones that make us do a double take at the time
when 1 AM rolls around
I used to wish time away,
now I couldn't possibly have enough with you
I've fallen for your eyes- which are so ******* beautiful
I've fallen for the nights we stay together. our nights
you in your PJ's get me every time
I've fallen for how we both know "I have to go" doesn't mean leaving for at least another hour
Again, wishing time could slow down
I've fallen for the way you make me feel at home

So, up to Liverpool,
pretty cool,
I've got family there, and I'm trying to find my bearings.

When I was a kid I went with my Auntie to the Adelphi Hotel,
I remember it well,
so that's where I'll start, move my feet,
it's a quick walk to Bold Street.

Everyone flocks to the Albert Docks,
regenerated, updated, and has created a vibrant corner of a once-thriving port city,
which is pleasing,
the only downside is it's ****** freezing!

The nights out are decent too,
this where Liverpool really pulls through.
Matthews Street, can't be beat,
or Concert Square,
where, you head to Baa Bar for some shots and a few jars.

Then onto Nation with the rest of Liverpool's student population,
going down to Wolstenholme Square,
great memories, shame it's no longer there.

Capital of Culture, lots to explore,
the council wants to restore the city centre,
Liverpool One is second to none.

New shops to buy our Fred Perry tops,
new bars to entertain us,
new places to wear our smart Adidas trainers.
A modern shopping centre to walk through,
have they really called it Everton Two?

Girls off to the supermarket with their hair up in rollers and wearing their PJ's,
funny looks on the face of people who are new to the place.

Lads in black Lacoste trackies,
in the 1980s they came back from the continent after European success,
wearing Fila and Ellesse,
it was called casual,
the style went national.

A city of myths legends,
some more tongue in cheek but still unique.

A sock robber from Kirkby,
is it the original Cavern Club? Well, to a degree.
What about Carragher's tattoo?
He's blue born and bred,
is Paul McCartney actually dead?

I know it's a clichè, but I must say,
it isn't a mere rumour,
there is undoubtedly a Scouse sense of humour,
wordplay and the inflexion on the things they say.
A witty city that's for sure, come and visit,
you'll have everything you need and more.

wool socks
fuzzy pj pants
too-big sweater
scarf
messy bun
notebook
music

this is my favorite sort of night

Dear Lover,
our love used to be a half full kind of love.
a love that always saw the light at the end of the tunnel
butterflies would take flight in my stomach at the sound of you voice.
your arms were my home, my sanctuary.
you were the light in my life, the sugar in my coffee.
you turned my blood red.
your fingerprints touched my heart and made me stronger.
I can never thank you enough for that.

if I could erase all the words I'm about to tell you from my heart,
and erase all my actions from my mind
it still wouldn't be able to stop my body from aching in my own guilt.
I met someone. His name is John.
he reminds me of watching Saturday morning cartoons in my favorite PJ's
his voice a song only an angel can copy

our love was once half full and now its half empty.
the butterflies sleep when I'm with you.
our love has died. our love is empty. I feel dead with you

The truth is John brings those butterflies back to life in the same way you once did.

I'm sorry....I'm so sorry

I'm in love with someone else

-Your lover

When I die,
I’d like to be buried in my PJ’s
For I will not be dead

Forever lives the things I did,
And all the things I said,

I will still be quite alive, I will linger
In the grass you picnic on,
In the dust upon your finger

And so my body, buried,
It is sleeping,
But I’m not gone.

So put me in my pyjamas,
Because forever, I’ll live on.

I remember being little.
Innocence.
When I was gentle with my words
And with the things my hand would hold
The way my cheeks would rose up from the cold.
Little fingers.
Little feet.
Sweet smiles snuck a treat.
Laughter and play.
Feeling safe in every way.
Seeing only the best in everybody.
Trusting everyone who came by.
Being held and needing a cuddle.
Splashing in a rain puddle.
Hearing, everything will be alright.
Bob Marley's motto tucked me in at night.
Being a princess is an actual occupation.
Thinking your parents aren’t scared of anything.
Believing in things that cannot be believed.
Having an imagination completely unperceived.
Finger painting.
Dancing.
Footy PJ's
Encouragement.
Laughter
Through all of my days.
Always feeling loved.
Never any doubts.
Bedtime stories.
Button noses.
I scream for ice cream shouts.
Soft whispers.
Tender touches.
Quiet kisses.
These are the things an adult misses.

At eight weeks old, she was our newly rescued mixed beagle pup.

Noah named her Daisy. Not a name I would have chosen, but certainly as sweet as

memories of Grandma's homemade molasses
bubbling in the old iron kettle brought out from the smokehouse for only one day each year on a crisp fall morning.

By sixteen weeks it was evident that all involved in the rescue didn't know squat about Beagles. After a frantic thirty seconds on Google, our mistake was quite clear in the form of about five hundred red and black and tan photographs.   We were the proud but red-faced and slightly shocked owners of a "**** Dog". Yep. And Daisy was her name-o.

Two years and seventy pounds down the road, I sat in my morning solitude spot this day with a good mug and a good book watching the nut hatches, house finch, and Black-capped/Carolina Chickadees tearing that special blend seed up as Daisy patrolled the yard for squirrels with one eye and her nose to the sky watching for the lone and clever Rock Pigeon scout that always precedes the flurry of flying rodents raiding my feeder. I can't help but to smile as Daisy glances at me through the deck door glass to see if I am admiring her skill and diligence.   I am.

This being a Sunday before the dreaded M word day, I tend to lounge lazily around the house in my worn Clapton pj bottoms and hol(e)y Langley T-shirt. My shadow follows me from comfort to comfort spot knowing that I leave a trail of odd snacks from my kitchen perch to living room couch to study to lazy bed, and back again. She is showing a bit of winter fat.

To be continued....

r ~ 9Feb14

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity.
I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear.
I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am.
The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined.

I breathe.
I live.
I mean.
I am.

I don't want to be invisible.

---

The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat?

I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit.
I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab.

I am the flower ******* McKenzie who sold you more marigolds.
The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?"
The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona.

I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie.

I am the girl you're seated by, right now.
This instant.

So close, you can hear her soft breaths;
So close, you can nearly smell her perfume;
So close, and still...
You stand.

You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what?
Bus? Plane? Cab?

You're gone.
And, I'm here.
And, I'm still the girl;

The girl who might have been your soulmate.
But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone.

---

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world.
I want to be a boulder.

I want to mean something,
And be something,
And exist to you.

So, STOP.
I'm here.


"Hello."

I'm a rocker
I'm a talker
I'm a walk the walker

I'm a gamer
I'm a player
I'm a rule breaker

I'm a smile faker
I'm a mover and
I'm a shaker

I'm a questioner
I'm a challenger
I'm a game changer

I'm a grain of sand
I'm a past summer of tan
I'm a small helping hand

I'm a shower grammy winner
I'm a everyday sinner
I'm a life beginner

I'm a needer
I'm a pleader
I'm a leader

I'm a living room pj dancer
I'm a wiki search answer
I'm a hallway happy prancer

I am free
I am she
**I am me

Brow beaten and body bent shoulders tense

With a headache in the midst

Dragging, you push through the day

Your only thought is of a soft bed awaiting your arrival

Awaiting the feel of comfort to wrap its self around you

The prospect of a soak in a hot bubble bath

helps you get through the day

You can picture it, salt beads with candles lit all around

Melting in the water along with your problems soothing your aching body

As your worries disappear with each breathe

Your mind travels back to the troubles of the day

Thanking God that its all over

And you start fresh the next day

Happy to be at home in your safe enviroment

You slip into your most comfortable pj's

And curl yourself up with a good book to wind down

The pressures of the day tucked in for the night



QNA

I'm not paying attention until the violent
Hiss jerks me awake t
The same way the
Violent crack of a gunshot of would.
Collision of liquid on hot metal
Pushes away any dreams lingering.
Fully aware now I reach for the door, Once a gleaming, vibrant white
Now covered with  
Dingy use.
I know the cold air is coming
But still it's another
Jolt to my system,
The chill of the air conspiring the
Brightness of the light,
Giggling together at my obvious Displeasure of them.
Light tickles my eyes into a
Squint like a feather tickles your
Nose into a sneeze.
Through the squint I can see the color of bark,  
Dark brown heart of trees
Secretly pumping blood of trees,
Sticky and sweet just like
Ours.
Just like the blood being
Pumped by the
Little heart behind the sound of giggles that has slowly snaked its way
Through the doors and
Around the walls to my ears.
Giggles and shuffling footsteps
Desperately trying to be silent, covert,
Unheard.  
But the desperate desire for silence Causes such excitement  in the mind of the
Boy that the
Distinct sound of
Shuffling slippers is produced.
The boys realization of the noise Makes him
Giggle at his own sneakiness,
Too young to realize the sound means He's failed,
Young enough to have fun
Regardless.
I think of those giggles as i
Scratch at the itchy
Knot in my neck, a sharp
Contrast to the softness of cotton that I Feel everywhere else
The itch reminds me to pay attention,
Not get lost in those giggles
My hand quickly moving from my neck to the white porcelain bed
Balancing early morning sweetness That's about to be
Devoured
Bed warm and heavy now.
I set it on what I noticed for the
First time is also a
Tree.
I've never noticed how vital trees
Are to my morning.
That the last thought I'll have thats just
mine for hours.
From this point on all thoughts will
Revolve around the boy and his father,
My son and my husband
They walk towards me now
Together
Husband helps with the knot at my Neck
Untying it so I can take off the
Itchy apron and get back to
Enjoying the softness of my
PJ'S 's, my  
Son jumps into the chair and reaches For the bed of pancakes on a
Wooden table, starts to pour
Sticky sweet blood of a maple tree,
Far more syrup then he needs.
His father opens the dingy white door,
Experiencing that bright light and
cold air just like I did as
He reaches for the milk
I realize I can see the white porcelain of the plate;
I need to make more pancakes
I pour more batter into the hot skillet
Somehow that hiss catches me off guard again
Just like a bullet would again  
I shake my head and look back at the Table, them.
I walk over and kiss both of them
Both tasting like milk and syrup,
smelling like sleepy sweetness and
Looking like my Saturday morning

You were standing in a red cardigan.
You told me somehow a bat had got in.
I got a broom and a bucket and put on a hat. We put the bucket on the broom and that was that. You told me to get the bat back out outside or don't come back to bed, I went to war with this 4 oz mammal, the war is on I said. I'm going to get it. Get outta this house or you're going to find yourself dead.

I made a war face, it swooped down at me, I said oh no you don't and threw the bucket over his wings, and that was that. That was it, and I won the war. That was that, I put it outside and then I closed the door.

Your red cardigan was easy to spot, even though you didn't have any makeup on, I saw you sitting there in the corner chair. Bucket on a broomstick you looked absurd to me, I asked you if you wanted something to drink. You said no, I just want to go back to sleep. I said oh, do you want to go to bed back with me.

Take off that silly red jacket, and that hat that doesn't match. Put on something more for sleeping and then let's get it on. You said okay. I said I'm starving. I told me to eat something if I was starving.

I picked you up and threw you down on the bed, I pulled off your pj's and your underwear fast. I said I'd like to eat out, you said you were thrilled, I said I won the war now I'm going to stake my win. You grabbed my head and pulled it closer to you, I grabbed you with my arms I knew what to do. Mammal, mammal, animal in me, I said let's play for keeps, you said I want you inside of me. I laid you down down down down and it was on on on I said let's get things hot hot hot you said I turn you on on on, I said I'd just begun.

We danced ourselves awake until the morning light arrived. And then I heard a sound from the window outside. I think he's back, I said, you said don't focus on him, I said I can't leave it if the war hadn't ended. I kissed your face I kissed your legs, I asked you to spit in my mouth. I'm you're warrior just hold on while I **** this flying rat, you made a face, I grabbed the broom, you put your red cardigan back on and met me with the bucket inside the living room.

I took the broom as my sword and the bucket as my shield, I take our heraldry very seriously. I through the broom in the air, and caught the bat with my shield, she went to open the door, I went to open the freezer. Not in there she screamed, but he'll never make it out alive. She said it'll make everything else smell I said he's got to die, I grabbed him by the wings and took him to the kitchen at once, turned on the garbage disposal and pushed him through it. Blood on my shirt, blood on the stove. Blood was everywhere even across her nose. I won the war I said with a gleam of excite, she said now come back to bed so you can claim your gift and your prize. So I went back to bed and gave her back my head. I stuck my tongue out far as I possibly could. And I went down, I went down down town. Oh I went down. I went down down town. I went to town, I went down down town. I went to town. I went down down town.

She stayed in the bath
Until the water got
Milky with self-pity.

She got out, naked.
She held the cat on her lap
Her naked thighs red.

His claws left white marks
Red lines of blood on old scars
Stray fur stuck to her skin.

Blue flannel PJ’s
She giggles in spite of herself,
Milky with self-pity

Imaginary Diary

Wed, Oct 5, 2011

Back from the worst roadtrip of my entire life.  And an era ends as I sit ALL ALONE in this big empty house.  At least it isn't raining, so I can go in the backyard and build a big fire to cry in front of...


Here Be Me

out fades the fire, no longer reaching higher, merely old and tired, moved on from trying to crying, an era ends, and how to begin again?

yet death has not yet stolen the last breath, hope and prayers still befriend the living, and everyday miracles may still find the giving...


alone is a strange energy
almost alien to me
although it didn't used to be

lone wolf howls again?
prowls again?

kaleidoscope of feelings,
how to make meaning?

I like Me as much or more
than ever before
and I no longer keep score

lone wolf howls again?
prowls again?

hurt but not quite reeling,
what's the meaning?
can I manage the damage?

I scream
You scream
We All scream
for Ice Cream
but that does not balance the beam
does not quite Amen the dream.

And now my life changes again
rearranges yet again
Lone Wolf?


Thurs, Oct 6, 2011

"I mourn not moving into another decade, but at the end I've been betrayed, not good enough, not enough stuff, not the right house in the right city. given everything I could, done anything I can, but not trusted, accused of acts I did not commit, abandoned and alone again, except for the responsibilities, and bills, and animals, and an empty house full of stuff, and memories of what was supposed to be" -- miscellaneous anonymous old divorced dude


Have you ever noticed how close onesome is to lonesome and that together rhymes with forever?



Fri, Oct 7, 2011

Heart Broken yet again,
  far from the 1st time...
I know what to do
  & kinda how to do it,
    I guess...


****, this is going to take some serious time!!!!
(can I manage the damage)


How far is far enough?
How future is future enough?

head hanging down
  as does the soul inside
face fallen in a frown
  as the heart's tears are cried

looking & leaning above the abyss
  living the loss that leaves less
refusing not to feel this
  there shall be no numbness

hurt too many times
  to soothe with mere rhymes
but healing always happens
  hope never dies a final death
(I can manage the damage)


How far is far enough?
How future is future enough?

Once or so upon sometime
  boy met girl
    and his world went whirl.
Stars sent sparkles through the smog,
  moonlight went right through the fog.

And they asked Clint,
  what's so different?
And his simple silly smile said,
  are you really so numb dumb in the head?

Are you really only able to see
  the fine firm exquisite curves outside
and not the even more amazing beauty
  singly sweetly from the soul inside?

Just look closely
  into gorgeous intensity
    get swept into a deep brown sea
      and wonder at the world she sees!

And when you linger longingly on those luscious lips,
  don't just wish for a tender hot kiss.
Want the soft breath-touch of her spirit,
  and the words within which you'll hear it!

They may not realize what I see,
  but those eyes have looked at me.
And I sit in the dark and wonder,
  could my spark ever touch her?


When can it be Then again?

Because if a guy is extraordinarily lucky, every decade or two he might meet someone as amazing as you.  And if he has the chance to become more than friends, he HAS to try to make that reality.  If not, he HAS to know you in whatever way possible, as deeply as possible, to enrich his Life & Soul!


Flirting

Emotions mixing like potions
Imaginings made more potent
Did you see her?  She looked at me!  A lot!  We smiled with our eyes and our lips and our words and it was real!  It may have meant more to me than it did to her, but it was still real!


Somewhen

Wonderings About A Wonderful Woman

Dipping a heart in the Rush
     of the early life of a Crush.
Past the point when you'd just met
     & maybe not even spoken yet.

It's after you know there's something about her
     that's at the awesome end of special.
When you want to know all about her,
  learn the glow within the sparkle!

You find yourself wanting way less waiting
     between the moments you get to see her
and you're always antsy anticipating
     the next time you're able to talk to her.

You hope for her Happy
     and pray to be a part of it,
       an important part!

You ache to ask her for a date
  and hear her say okay, great!
You wish that that beginning
  turns into every evening
until oh so soon
  on an unknown afternoon
you both find you're destined
  to be much more than friends!

And inbetween the start and that part
  as you learn to hear each others' heart
there are a millionish questions about her
  you can't wait for time to answer...


Does she like mexican food?
  and sushi too?
Will she gag if you call her dude?
Has she ever done Mongolian BBQ?

Has she ever searched for seashells
  between the incoming swells?
Does she like getting flowers?
  What's her favorite flower?!

Does she like skating
           swimming
          whistling
           hiking?

Does she have brothers?
sisters?
younger?
  older?

Has she ever fallen on her **** in an ice rink?
  or played in the snow til your fingers can't think?

Does she love road trips
  for the destination
    and all you may learn/see
      along the journey?

Where has she travelled?
Where does she want to travel?

Does she like sharing dreams
  the moment you awaken?
When it still seems
  they really did happen?
                        
What animals does she love?

Mittens or gloves?

Does she love hugs?
  LONG hugs?!

Is she ready for me to want to stare at her
  (mmmmm, have you seen her?)
And does she know how
  to keep hearing “WOW”?

Does she like reading poetry?
  especially when it's about her / inspired by her

Will we share the joys and traumas
  the sillys and dramas
    that have made us us?


Will she excitedly show
  all of her old photos?

Does she believe in GOD
  and ghosts
  and eternal souls
  and True Love?

Has she ever prayed for me?
Does she know I've prayed for her?

Will we show not just our strengths
  but also our weaknesses?
Tell our awes
  and our flaws?
Share our laughs
  and our tears?
Whisper our hopes
  and our fears?
Even though it allows the other to truly see
  and brings tender vulnerability?

Will she let me provide what help I can
  for not only wants, but also needs
can she depend on this man
  for not only wants, but also needs
can she accept every effort from Clint
  and still know she's independent?


Does she like:

  --cuddling huddling together beside the fire, wrapped beneath the same blanket, holding hands, somtimes speaking softly about memories, hopes, fears, desires, sometimes simply staring at the spastic random wild dancing of the flames while listening to the crackles & pops & the night sounds from just beyond the circle of light?

  --a lazy afternoon on a summer beach, toes digging in the hot sand, breeze blowing sunshine across the skin, waves waiting to be watched and frolicked in?

  --being at the beach on a damp winter's day, sitting on a lifeguard tower just out of the reach of the rain, sometimes wondering at the miracle of the wild waves, dark and frothy, whipped by the wind to lunge upon the shore and race towards the tower only to tire and recede once more into the tide. Sometimes basking in the heat of each others' hands, eyes, lips & kiss, flying in the feeling?

  --walking along the beach in the moonlight of a still-warm summer's eve, holding hands as we wade in the waves, toes tingly with the spritz of the sparkling water?

  --watching a sunrise fill the skies of a desert dawn?
  --watching the sun set as it dives from the clouds, drops behind the mountaintop?

  --camping in the mountains, or by a lake, miles and miles from the encompassing glare of the city lights, within our private tent at midnight, comfy cozy cuddled close within 2 sleeping bags zipped into  1, marvelling at the stars spread out above the mesh ceiling?

  --walking hand-in-hand in a light rain laughing at the secret which only we know, that this cool warm drizzle, this tingle-mingle mist is the perfect place to kiss?

  --Las Vegas after dark?
  --reading to each other in the park?
  
  --short romantic messages?
  --exchanging random massages?

  --live comedy?
  --movie matinees?

  -- what's her favorite type of TV?
          comedy/drama/reality?
          food/cartoons/nature documentary?

  --a comfy couch where we fall sleep curled together with a shared blanket and maybe even some spilled popcorn?

  --disneyland?

  --silly errands at 1am?

  --talking through the night until the dawn?

  --sharing a shower, the water cascading across her unbelievable beauty, caressing every curve, glistening on her sweet sensuous skin and driving me deliciously delirious with desire?


What is her favorite color?
What is her favorite thing about her?

Who is her oldest friend?
            her best friend?

If she had one wish, totally selfish, just for herself -- what would it be?

Fuzzy PJ's or naked under a soft warm blanket?

Would she dance with me at home
  just the two of us
where we can be dorky
  or not good
    and just have fun?


Does she realize the HER of her eyes
           her smile
           her glow
           her lips
  the dreams of her fingertips?

Does she know that as impossibly amazing as it may seem
  my instincts sing to me
  that she's even more beautiful on the inside
  than she is on the outside?
  And have you SEEN her outside????

Would she want to hear me say
  you're sweet smart funny beautiful and hot, mmmmmmm  HOT
    and you will find True Love & Happyness
      because You Deserve It!

Does she want someone to want her
  emotionally spiritually physically?
Does she want them to wonder what she wants
  discover her innermost inner?
Want them to desire her joy
  so she can be joyous?
Does she want them to want to kiss her all over,
  caress her everywhere,
  squeeze her perfect *** with ultimate passion,
  dream of her arms and awesome legs around them,
  her bare ******* pressed against their chest,
  sing themselves to sleep with images of her lips,
  and imaginings of her sweet sweet kiss?
  

And maybe if we're lucky
  or meant to be
Somewhere in there
  “like” blossoms
    becomes Love!

first days of Summer
early childhood
first, second, third year of school
when Summers first started to mean something

Free.

I am Free.

i remember
i remember those days
i remember that feeling
only remember
i remember one morning
early
seven or eight
both of us
myself and the day
just starting to heat up

i remember finding our front door open
wide open
propped open
because we'd just bought a new screen door
our first
to let the Summer in
i can still remember the sweet smell
of the soft blond wood frame of our new door
blending with the scent of suburban Summer wafting through
cut grass and pool water
dandelion and hot asphalt

i remember the sparkles of dust twinkling
through the enormous beam of radiant Sun
pouring through our open front door
flooding through our new screen door
pooling in two golden domino blocks
on the orange **** carpet

i remember lying down then
right there on the carpet
right there at our open front door
in my pj's
in that bath of light
and doing nothing else
doing nothing at all

i remember it was so warm
so comfortable
so wonderful
so perfect
i didn't want to leave
i didn't have to leave
i could lay there as long as i wanted
i had nothing else to do
all i had to do was whatever i wanted
and what i wanted was to lay right there
and let the blissful Summer Sun caress me all over
until there was nothing else

i remember i felt free then
absolutely felt it
for the first time
a sort-of tingle in the belly
like falling
or flying
the exhilaration of that new-found freedom
knowing i was free
knowing this was only the beginning
knowing there were months more of this left
months more to look forward to
the upwelling joy that knowledge brings
the surge of happiness at having nothing better to do
than drown in a pool of starlight

i remember recognizing
even then
that there was something special happening there
i didn't know what it was
not then
but i knew there wouldn't be many days like that
and there haven't been
this is the only one i can remember
anymore

but i'm glad i remember
it feels good to remember
it dulls the ache
left from wondering
if i'll ever get to feel that way again

I hope you are finally a musician in Los Angeles
I hope you are successful WITH him.
I hope you learned the true meaning of success and contentment.
I hope you can finally wake up without remembering John hanging from a rope.
I hope you can finally cope.
I hope you can hear someone say "John" and not flood into an ocean of tears.
I hope you forgave your dad. It wasn't completely his fault.
Alcohol does that to people.
I hope you can eat three times a day without crying or hurting.
I hope you started eating more than 300 calories a day, you're killing yourself right now.
I hope you still sing in the shower and dance in your pj's every morning.
I hope all these things come true but mostly I hope you love yourself and are finally HAPPY.

Inimitable feelings of love,
hot coffee, steam, and ashes of clove;

Comfy mornings in bed,
moonlit window nights;

White linen skirts, crumpled and loved,
plaid flannel pj's, worn and loose;

Quiescent ink words,
hushed faithful whispers;

Peals of my heart,
answer the clamor of his pulse;

Brazen beard against my cheek,
if I could kiss the wind in his hair,
I could hear the song,
it reverberates from his touch
         through my body, down my spine
into my lungs, his melody;

Matching harmonies breeze
         through my fingers
entwining soft strands;

It's more than I think or feel,
free of what I know,
initmitable feelings of love.

get out of those pj's
and into some jeans
altho i obey
i
dont know what that means
my life does unravel
undone at the seams
i prefer life by night
under moon beams