You seem so indifferent to me,
Your just one of those people,
Who are just there,
But yet i still notice you,
I sneak glances at your beauty,
Your profound words strike me like a bullet,
Every word you say,
Has a 200-word meaning behind it,
Quietness is key in everything you do,
Every time our eyes meet,
We have a moment,
Where we really connect,
And we speak to each other,
Through our eyes,
I turn around quickly
Forgetting not to make eye contact,
For you will know,
That I indeed notice you
Criss cross
Applesauce
Spiders running down your back
I climbed out my window
and jumped
I acquired a few bruises
but not from the fall
His breath reeked of stale beer
The first time I had no where to turn
The outcome of abuse and soft kisses
a mean look in your eyes
pumpkin pie
I hope you survive
quite whispers of melodies
your mother used to sing
salt water tastes like childhood
Cool breeze
Tight squeeze
Now I've got the shiveries
our unwavering frog chorus chirps sweet incense of these at last amorous summer nights with joyous voices that are surely singing songs of devotion to la Luna and her silver eyes that watch over this garden of the cosmos with cloud eyelids that cause her wondrous beam to flicker in and out of perception as if dappled by trees; eyes that are nothing but the reflection of all of infinity’s stars projecting themselves in every direction through the expanse of dark matter in a quest to witness (or be witnessed by) the infinitesimal percentage of atoms in the universe that have become conscience; atoms perhaps unfairly concentrated on this one marvelous rock that has been bestowed with the gift of that elixir of life that is the bonding of hydrogen and oxygen; a rock that flies along at a breakneck speed while its inhabitants are able to feel so incredibly still:
we assemblage of friends are so very perfectly still in time together collected on this backyard blanket where like the thicket our legs and arms entangle, and invisibly our minds entangle too until we are bonded chemically in some ineffably complex emotion it would be fitting to label love; and as faces turn silhouette in the night, it’s as if we have on this steadfast square decomposed back into the smallest building blocks of matter; splendid flesh broken into atoms, lips and hands, hearts and brains, all dissolved into this collective pool of consciousness where we each understand one another’s aches and ecstasies in this world, and in the frog’s chirpings we hear that the world understands too, and we think ‘thank our transcendental creator for the stars that watch over us, because how else would we know that we’re alive?’
the foolish men who went to the moon found not a glittering paradise but a grey desert, and when they found this to be true marveled not at the moon but at the heart breaking sight of Earth’s entirety; for here is the only place where the stars can truly appreciate life and where life can truly appreciate the stars.
I break my back again;
a gymnast I never was,
scoring a 6.5, never a perfect ten,
putting myself through hell because
being flexible for your needs
has always been at the top of my priorities.
but you never were a chiropractor
and my desires were never
even considered as a factor
when you chose your next endeavor
so I just keep bending backwards for you,
nearing my demise
as the life drains from my eyes
and my face turns a deep shade of blue.
it took 1 look to capture his eyes
it took 2 weeks for him to find me
it took 3 weeks to fall in love
it took 4 days after for me to leave
Time is playing a wicked game with my heart.
It passes right by without disgust,
just when love was settling in.
Ineffable
---------------------------------------------
Too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words:
Too sacred to be uttered.
-------------------------–-------—----------
The whimpered cries of the dying
in the rubble of Bangladeshi avarice,
announcing we were worthy of life,
to which we think a whispery, silent
amen.
The first alive cries of new born lungs
in the stainless delivery room,
hear the babies pronouncing a blessing, Shecheyanu
to which we think a whispery, silent
amen.
The unspoken devotions of adoration
in the sleeping chamber, that cannot
be heard or answered for they're dreamt,
to which we think a whispery silent
amen.
Ineffable.
The disgusted silence of the God they pray to
in his holy places, when Jew spits upon Jew,
for forgetting in whose image they were created,
to which we cannot say nor think
anything.
Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
Master of the universe,
who has kept us alive and sustained us
and has brought us
to these special moments.
Ineffable,
too sacred to be uttered,
so instead of the paucity of these words,
know each tear in the reservoir of my eyes
is my unspoken poem prayer.
Instead of answerIng amen,
wipe my eyes with your fingertips,
silently.
you have given me a body, it washes over me
these eyes, these ears, this tongue, this nose, this skin
all touch the rest of the universe, a yolk in the ocean
these eyes touch the light of the stars
these ears note changes in the air
this tongue tastes all that sustains me
this nose touches the scent of the past
this skin touches you
this ancient light
this endless song
this unquenchable thirst
this countless breath
this vast shell around me
i cannot touch more than this
all that i am
all i can touch
...a brain trying to categorize
the stillness
it took until this summer
to realize that you are a liar.
walking up the stairs you avert your eyes
so you won't watch my hips
steady
slow
recently untouchable.
I watch you out of the corner of my eye
looking sideways at the floor
and fidgeting with your hair.
seated at a careful distance away from me in my armchair
and pacing around the room.
and then I see the bruises on your neck
again .
this is the last time I crumble before you
now is the time that I scream at two a.m. with open windows
now is the time for you to fuck off
so I say so
anger tightening the corners of your mouth
and pushing the lids of your eyes out so they bulge
you look like a fool
and you are.
it just took me until this summer to realize.
my heart’s an old motel room
all filthy carpets
and no hot water
no fresh towels
to dry yourself
from tears that won’t roll over
like i do in bed
when the sun kisses the earth
i surrender
to 9 to 5 lovers
that kiss my cold corpse
my eyes at ceiling fans
my body in hands
that don’t belong to You
rolling in sheets
rolling papers
the smoke between my fingers
is it the night mist?
or the cigarette silk worms?
I exhale between make believe
love making
the rain raps at the window
asks me why i’m in hands
hands that don’t belong to You
but i can’t roll over
so i wait for tomorrow
to come back down
and start again
night after night
she walks into wonderland
under hazy streetlights
to let thorns
shred her delicate petals
now her rosebud, gone forever
her eyes as dark
as the rolling tires
on the highways
that she sells herself on
sell your soul to the devil
he will let you keep the change
drunk on despair
and living on borrowed time
the wolves of yesterday
the dirt under her fingernails
linger like the voices
of the monsters under her bed
creamy thighs spread wide
for an endless audience
to spoon her milky honey
lick their fingers clean
clean of their conscience
the white washed walls
may the prickly blood
of the cold winter
not stain the white walls
or shrivel the leaves
but lead her to the water
and set sail in a teardrop
