The stars were out in full force
They were my only source
Its just me
Alone, by the sea.
Writing secrets in the sand
Things that no one would understand.
They always get reclaimed by the water
And like a knowing mother comforting a daughter
I always feel like a weight has been lifted.
1) I am soft sand between your toes
2) I am the essence of sunshine
3) I am breathing for you
4) I am made of lithium; I spread to you
5) I am filled with stardust
6) I am strawberry white sheets fresh from the dryer
7) I am the ocean when you are sad; i envelop you into my arms
8) I am wrong.
9) I am not the ocean.
10) I am not your happiness.
11) I am your misery
12) I am the gun you used to kill
13) I am a knife you shed your blood
14) I am the darkness; wretched in your soul
15) I am fire. I burn you when we touch
16) I am the ashes that fill your chest.
17) I am the contaminated air that you breathe.
It's funny, looking at my hands after all this time.
They do so much for me, they are the tools that allow me to do much of what defines me.
So here they are, splayed out in front of my face.
And I am trying to convince myself of something.
That maybe if my hands were just a little bigger, a little wider, a little stronger I could stop it.
I could catch all your tears as they fell.
I could hold you up when you fall.
I could point you in the direction where things wouldn't be so damn awful.
I could grip the fears and terrors of our day to day and
I could beat back the sadness.
But I have only got my hands.
And they seem a little inadequate for the job I need to do.
Because my hands only have so much surface area
And jsut like sand in an open hand
Sadness slips through my fingers
I want to carry the weight of the world on my hands, and give your shoulders a much needed rest.
I have tried.
But fuck, I am sorry.
Because the results seem to be a little lackluster.
I know that I can't stop the sad days, even more than I can create the happy days.
Just know that for you, I will spread my hands like the wings I was never meant to have
And share your burden.
You are not Atlas, Job, or Cain,
And I love you because of that.
I wish I had the courage to talk to pretty girls.
It’s not them; it’s their cold beauty that makes
my fingers shiver and rejection that makes me
feel like I’m a white lighter that strikes out
nothing more than sparks.
I wish I had the courage to not take shit from
my superiors and remind them that when you
beat the life out of a man you better cut a deal
with the Death if you plan to let him stand
I wish I had the courage to rise above peer
pressure and see that a bulletproof vest isn’t so
dumb when you realize that the person you take
a bullet for was actually the one who loaded the
I wish I had the courage to tell you that your butt
really looked HUGE in those jeans and I wanted
to burn every other pair you owned.
I wish I had the courage to get out of bed every
morning because sometimes I forget that I’m
actually still alive and my blinds keep hiding the
fact that this world is made of sugar.
I wish I had the courage to be vulnerable again
but trust is a treasure someone stole from my heart,
left a bag of sand in its place, and took off running.
That day my heart caved in on itself.
I wish I had the courage to ask for help because I’m
not the sharpest cheddar in the fridge and I was born
with a head that could break down brick walls.
I wish I had the courage to own a snake but I was
brought up Catholic so I am conditioned to fearing
both the Devil and God.
I wish I had the courage to keep my commitments
so when the people I love open my promise box they
actually find something inside.
I wish I had the courage to let go of the past and get
past the point of letting go.
I wish I had to courage to speak at your funeral . . .
but I’ve never been the fastest to pick up the pieces, and even when I do I always put them in the wrong place, so fuck it. I filed down the jigsaw edges so now all I have to do is connect the dots but every time I do all I get are silhouettes of you; us. I see your face in a day more than I see faces in a week. It’s the reason I stand at the edge of rooftops, the reason all my mirrors are broken, the reason I wake up with my face floating in a pool. I wrote a paper this morning titled, “To Do Today:” It's crumpled somewhere on the floor because the only thing I’m really going
To Do Today:
-is miss you.
I'll offer you my hand
A humbling breeze
Earthquakes shake the land
expand beneath the sand
waves rolling, sunshine
raw pure and unclear
tears of nectar
candlelight reflection sprouting seeds of our intention
laughter infection spreading heading towards my heart
tickles as it parts dogma counterparts
inspired minds shine
align oscillating rhyme
of fractal benign
Switching on to what turns me on
sees me glint colourful through porous escapades,
a rainbow flaunting shamelessly elemental;
driven on waves of hormonal freedom,
naked this solace of self ..Simple.
Connections' conversely complex,
risk fraught ....risk need;
where loneliness stirs like my bare feet on sand,
with hopeless toes that try to anchor if just for the turn of the tide
or until, ears attune to whispers of the changing wind.....
Here, waiting can see chance pass by the lazy heart,
in its overcoat
of reluctance to offer,
to call for;
Thankful for the silence beneath my cloak
that welcomes, accepts,
where freedom floats free over warring taboos locked
in rooms of unresolved pain.
most days I prevail,
a chaos of particles swollen by heat
I'm seen, spraying like hot mist speckled in rays of sunshine
that grace me a warm embrace,
I am charged and changed
in perpetual re-assemblance through lights and darks.
I used to believe,
My life was bland
It was set on hopes,
And built in sand.
All The things we did,
We never planned
But we labeled it
" The Life"
We didnt care,
Just who was there.
What we did,
Or where we were.
All we ever did,
was try and feel,
So if I don't know,
Just where to go,
I hope you'll let me,
Take it slow,
Give me patience,
And Time to grow,
Let's share a smile,
And let it flow.
Kiss me softly with breath of life
Look me in my eyes and tell me
I am your everything
Tell me you never want to leave
That our Love will last a lifetime
Kiss me with passion
Hold me tighter and never let me go
Look deep into my eyes and say I
am all you need
No words need to be spoken they
are already written in your eyes
I know you never want to leave
Hold me close and tell me all the
Things I need to hear
Until I loved , I had never loved
Like I do when I am with you
Hold my hands and walk with me
On the sand
Look deeply into my eyes and you
Will find all the words you are looking for
Promise me you will never let me go
you are mine until no more
You held me too close
There is no turning back now
You're all mine
Look deeply into my eyes and never let me go
To wait an lifetime without you would hurt
But to love you eternity that I can do
Let the waves rush by
Curling into cold dark sand
Salty air caress
The Island Moorea,
In the heat, the sun,
The rhythm of my footfalls
crunching loose gravel road,
The swish of pack swaying
in consort to my measured pace.
Breeze pushing branches of Palm,
Ocean waves breeching shore line long.
Island vehicles passing, occupant's laughing,
a man laboring under large pack, alone walking,
Who could have been freely riding.
Something unthinkable to Island Folk,
in hot tropical places.
Passed along the way several humble homes,
Greetings exchanged with smiling people there.
Not long afterwards, new sound approaching,
crunching gravel, rolling up behind me.
A lovely young girl, perhaps still a teen,
long brown naked legs peddling a bike.
Hair jet black, long to her waist, wearing
a sarong, split up the side,
Shoulders bare and brown.
Dark eyes of wonder, sparkling of youth.
A radiant smile adorning her splendid face.
We went for a time at my even pace,
looking and smiling each in our place.
"Hello there" I said, she giggled, beamed
even bigger. Perfect teeth displayed.
"Why you walk?" She asked in puzzlement.
"To get to where I'm going". I replied
This response producing a pleasant laugh
from the girl. In which I too joined in.
"You go One Chicken?" She asked
I stopped then and turned to her.
"Where is One Chicken?" I questioned
with a grin.
She raised her graceful arm,
one finger pointing up the road.
"One Chicken there." she informed.
It was a store/bar, sort of place,
In the very midst of nowhere.
Indeed more than merely one chicken roamed,
Many chickens were and a pig or two, as well.
All mingling free and doing their thing.
We entered from out of the bright daylight,
into the deepest of darks,
Like in a movie theater you arriving late.
Eyes adjusting slowly to what lay ahead.
A few Island Beers later,
I had acquired several new friends,
The girl my invitation to the party of
already happy people a little drunk on beer.
The Music was mostly of French persuasion,
With a bit of Bob Dylan thrown in.
The Beatles also had a tune or two.
The Liverpool beat resounding down Tahiti way.
Before the light did fail, I shouldered my pack
and walked some distance from Chickens and Pigs.
Found the beach, hung my Hammock for the night.
Built a small fire and opened a can of Spam.
She appeared again about ten,
looking beautiful in the new moon light.
She had washed her hair,
still damp and smelled fresh of Lilacs,
Or some such aromatic scent.
We did not speak, no words were needed,
Made love on the sand, 'till the retreat of the
tide and sand crabs did come out, in their
eerie numbers, to eat what was at hand.
I suppose even us if we let them.
We retired then both to my hammock,
A pretty neat trick if you can swing it.
And we did.
She was so child like and yet,
very much a woman grown.
There was no pretense shown,
no false inhibitions rendered.
These were not limitations of her culture.
A people that live by their emotional impulses.
An open and free spirited people living
passionately within each minute.
It all felt more akin to a dream than real,
All around me there was beauty,
Loving and being loved without hurry,
Free of guilt or even a single expectation.
Living in that wondrous moment,
of uncomplicated human splendor.
Like some Garden of Eden surrender.
In the morning we swam in the sea,
frolicked like kids having a day at the beach.
Made love in the sand, I dozed in the sun.
Upon my awaking she was gone.
I waited an hour or two, packed up my camp,
shouldered my load and returned to the road.
A few minutes later, again I heard the now
familiar crunch of rubber tires,
rolling road surface and there she was,
a straw basket in her Bike's basket,
A huge smile on her unforgettable beautiful face.
We sat in a grove of trees,
among birds singing, insight of the sea,
Upon a Palm log and ate fresh bread and
fruit, drank strong black coffee (French Roast
I presume,) nibbling some marvelous cheese.
We tried to talk, but she understood little of
what I tried to say, my French was nearly
nonexistent, only adding to confusions sake .
She leaned her head on my shoulder,
the way lover's do and tenderly held
my hand within her two,
As if not wanting to let go,
Those gestures said all there was to say,
And we savored each silent moment.
We parted there, she on blue, rusty bike
and me on "shanks mare",
Off in two different directions,
Each out into the depths of our own lives,
Gone just like that. . . And yet,
Indelible, never to be forgotten or replaced.
Moorea do yet visit me, in dreams as real as can be. She never
grows old, nor does the beauty we shared for that one brief moment
in time immortal.
Someplace among the Islands of Tahiti there is a woman in her late fifties,
most likely a Mother, even by now a Grandmother. I hope she recalls as
fondly the American blond man with the big Orange Backpack, that in 1972
she meet upon the road, near "One Chicken" and loved freely and completely
for two days and a night, as that man does so fondly remember her.
I'm no poet, you all are poets. I'm just an old guy with memories and
little stories to tell. Thanks for letting me share.