The crows outside my window
Feast on what I have done
And the birds upon the wire
Toss with restless desire
For what I’ve done I’ve locked away
In a cage if prickly bush
And only the smart
Crafty black crows
Can slip to see my mush

Yet last, the crowbrids call
A shrill that warns them all
And ah —alas— in frenzy of fear
The crafty black crow
Seeing no exit clear
Frantics and pushes
All against the spines
And traps itself in
And having no option
All it does is scream
And no one could hear
It’s desperate dying dream of
Freedom

And soon enough, as days passed by
The crows feast again
On mush twice the size
And the birds on the wire
Still violently wish
That they too could pick
If only it wasn’t so sick

~Disgusting
Click, hold, pause…
Nahhh
Click, hold, pause…
Nahhh
Resume —resume—
Watch               —
    Watch            C
        Watch        O
            Watch    N
   ~Beautiful
            Watch    S
        Watch        U
    Watch            M
Watch                E
   ~Disgusting  —
…
Click, hold, pause…

The carpet flooring of my room turns to monstrous dunes,
As I meditate with mindfulness all else fades away, and I am left with a sea of rippling sand.

A dog has no mindfulness
It finds it hard to soothe
It cannot suffer in silence
It’s anxiety overwhelms
It lets out cries
And moans
And whines
As it tragically wonders why
Begging to know
Dying to comprehend

We all are dogs who suffer in silence
Who scratch at the doors
Who shrills deep inside
Who hurt themselves with fear
But do everything to keep it in

The dogs cannot comprehend
How terrible they sound
When tightened by anxiety
Crying the involuntary shriek
But we know deep and profound
So we ball up on the ground
And in our own minds, all to ourselves,
We listen to the sounds

Throw me to the dogs

Eat this poem
Savor its taste
Feel it on your tongue
Then swallow without chase

Take this poem in
Digest its every word
Take apart its meaning
Don’t let it curd

Absorb this poem whole
For it is as it is
Give it life
And meaning
Simply let it in

And then let this poem go
It may linger for a while
But let it flow like the river
Now, say your goodbyes

[Redacted]

Deny
    D e n y
        D  e  n  y

It’s like I’m slipping in slow motion
I’m the only one who can notice it now
But eventually I’ll fall
My gut tells me to grasp at the straws
I planted to steady me
But their roots are shallow
And stalks are withered
And when I reach up they brush past
My fingers and our connection fails
And I
F
    A
          L
               L
I fall too fast in slow motion
For anyone to help
And all this time
I felt it inside
Knowing somethings wrong
And I said nothing

When I planted those flowers
And grew them for you
I never thought of what you’d do
Perennials they were, with gorgeous hues
But you took them and cut them out of the blue
Stuck them in a vase for everyone to see
Watered them lightly until they wilted
And want faded away

Those flowers
To me
We’re me and you
The love that we grew
Cherished and knew
And at the first sign of beauty
You snatched them right up
New blossoms could not bloom
For you came in on cue

Withered and wrinkled
Discarded and dry
Colors all lost
Beauty long squashed
We were flowers in bloom
And we will bloom again
But the ugly remainder
Of what was and will be
Will always lay there

In the trash

La idioma de español
Sabe todos mis secretos
Todos el chismo
Pero que uno
Y anoche
En el calor de la cocina
Español aprendió mi más grande secreto
“Quieres el verdad?”
“No me gusta mujeres así”
Y Jesús dijo
“¿Porque? ¿Ellas son demasiado gordita?”
Nos Reímos
Y entonces
“No…no me gusta mujeres, Jesús”
Dije
“Soy gay”
Silencio
Nadie hablaban
Nadia se reía
Nadie cocinaba
“Pues…”
El dijo
“¿Tienes un novio?”
El tension en la cocina eliminaba al instante
Sonreí
Me reí
“No, Jesús, pero lo deseo uno”

When I look into the mirror for too long a see a row of cherry blossoms
My favorite tress
As my vision blurs the pink of my flesh blooms to the blossoms
my thin arms to branches and legs to stump
I am wooded
Wooden
Whole
Finally I am beautiful
And the tear leaves my eye

I am gliding overhead
Wishing I was instead in bed
As I look to the world
I see no imperfections
No human error
No fatal flaw
For a moment we are ants
Birds
Trout
Deer
We are freed from famine
Purged of plague
Without war
Perfect passing free fall
We are one
And none
And then we hit the pocket

Booting…booting…booting
Power on
Channel change
Weave through channels
Comical in a moment
Historical in the next
Melodramatic then bold
Tailor made for for the masses
Everyone has a channel they like
And I tune to all

But what when alone?
No channel to choose
A dark reflective screen
Replays a dark mien
I am a TV
For you to watch
Delicately balanced
Too easy to botch

I push a penny of a porch railings to feel
it plummet and hear it’s final ping

And push a nickel off at night so I don’t
notice the novel shine as it falls on a
noose

And push a dime only at dusk and
dawn, as not to disturb their daemons,
and as not to degrade their demise

And a quarter at midnight, so it’s
questions and queries with which it
quals can be quietly cast

Then I imagine myself as an inkling,
inching forward with indifference,
inquiring on the irony of indignation if I
insisted on ending it instantly, now

Am I to be a poet?
Who writes of all he sees?
Who spews his dreams across the page?
Reflecting harsh and cynical?
Deep within old age?

Shall I grow much in wisdom?
A Sage who’s never enraged?
Filled with patience, hope, and heart
Because he lives on stage?
And his mind on a page
His rage in a cage
The readers head
Filled instead
With the things he never said

What shall I be?
Should I dart to share my art?
In forms of clay and word
Which never will curd but always will curb
And roll and refine
As gems from the mine
That make the most beautiful ring

That’s what I shall be.
A gift,
Shining bright.
—a ring—

Both of my parents “don’t smoke”
But the pack in the bag disagrees
And the butts in the yard
Hiding spots in the car
Beer cans through which I can see

Both of my parents don’t smoke
Sometimes I think it’s a joke
When they’d smile their smiles
And lie to my face
But every secret has its place

And at least mine aren’t known

The first day I looked Spring in the eyes
I closed the door and opened all the windows
I didn’t care about cold anymore
Just sun
And green grass
And the warmth of a future

First I cleaned the muck off the windows
Intricate and impulsive
Every nook and cranny
Then
Free

The open window let the cool spring air
Bombs of pollen
Bugs and seeds
But I didn’t care

I was cleansed by the movement
By the breeze in a stagnant place
Under stagnant sheets
Where I laid stagnant in waste

In winter
I became a water droplet stuck in a puddle
Muddled and browned by time
Spring rain made rivers fly
And spring breeze pushed me in the river

I’ve stopped saying I love you back
To the father I no longer cut slack
For the birthdays missed
And the time not spent
For the nights not kissed
And the love not lent

This Apple rotted from the seed
His love is something I don’t need
But night after night
And year after year
I fight his daemons
And face his fears

The sins of the father
Will be payed by the son
So in the end
No one’s won

A storm rages on
Trees thrash and break
Windows and ears split from the roar of thunder
Colossal building shake and bend
Rain floods the road
Seeps in basements and cars and the earth
Waves throw their full weight at the beach
Birds and Foxes have long since burrowed
Sensing the coming storm

Yet at the same time
Not far away
A gentle breeze hushly moves the tall grasses in fields
Tickles the leaves of blooming trees
Weaves its way through the towns and over the waters
The people roam the beaches and streets with smiles on their faces and the sun on their skin

Everywhere has its own storm in its own time

I sit at the edge of my bed and look down
I look up an see my face in the mirror
I see the face of a sad man, a crying man
I manage through the days as they come
I pleasure myself with short term things
I block out my true feelings
I hold back my tears
I pray that I can be helped, saved, loved
I tell this to people I’ve talked to for so long but still don’t know
I sit here sad and lonely, wishing, wanting to feel real love
I pour out my emotions on a keyboard and screen
I hope that they will be seen
But what will they do when they see it
Will they feel my pain
Or feel sympathy
I don’t know what I’m doing
Or where I’m going
All I know is that I’m here and you’re there and no one can help me anywhere.

I love it when

A twisty dead tree
Stares back at me
And ask me why

Just before its foliage fell
I lied and said ‘it’s fine’
Yet, I knew it had its time
And days went by
Green fades to grey
Grey fell to gravity;
The world ugliest feathers
Still I said ‘it’s fine’
With hope in my tone
As I saw a little green left

Bark now exposed,
Beautiful but bear,
I remember the times not long ago
Where I chained it with wire
Forced it to bend
And twist
And turn
And formed it into a beautiful thing
So little.
So careful.

Still now, as it wilts,
My hope doesn’t waver.
I flood it like an ocean
Give it soil it would savor
And sit back to watch
Will it grow back again?
Or will I never make amends?

I love a dead thing.
Long ago alive
And I tread it better now
After losing it to love

I love a dead thing.
Once so full of life
Gambled for desire
It’s life was on the wire
And it fell

I love a dead thing.
And seeing it’s turns reminds me of the time
And seeing it’s twists reminds me of him
And the pain he had brought
When he bought me this ***
And perfect little tree
So straight and too little

Look what it’s become

Fragmented:

Silk sleeve, ah! No sound
Jade courtyard, ah! Dust grow
Empty room cold and still/silent/lonely
Fallen leaf lean on doubled door-bar
Peer-after that beautiful woman, Ah! Where find?
Feel my heart not-yet at-ease rather

Translated:

O your silk sleeve! In the silent
Jade courtyard. O how dust grows
In a cold and empty room, lonely in stillness.
The fallen leaves lean on the barred double door
Through it look at my beautiful woman, O where does she lie?
I feel my heart not yet at ease, rather skipping beats

Sitting in the silence of my car
No moving,
Nor rushing,
Nor having places to be
I feel finally free
In the parking lot of PetCo I read poems
I ponder as people slip and slide
Into stores and cars and out of my life
They’re all rushing,
Full of movement,
Machines of motion and muscle
But in this moment the weight of their problems have lifted off my shoulders
I leave my body and lustfully linger in the stale air of solitude I’ve grown to admire
Trapped in its own world
As the passing are in theirs
I am the big open air
And the air behind doors
Of cars and of stores
Trapped or chosen
Inhaled and Ex
A calm culmination of momentary peace

Malicious, malignant
Crude, cruel
Your punishment for me
When didn’t tell you things I felt
Was to treat me like a dog

Call every thirty minutes
Not allowed alone with the kids
Else the police will show up
Make sure you’re not dead

I didn’t tell about the darkness
For fear of what you’d do
And as it grew it seeped out
Creeped up, out of the blue
And just as I thought
How did you respond?
Well let’s just say now
Im a fish without pond
I’m a hare without speed
Im an eagle without wings
I’m a person. Without air.

Feeling worse
More alone
More hated
More close
Just days ago I thought
I knew the worst

But ‘lo
I was wrong
And now I’m just wrung
Without fun
Seen as dung
Just a fungús

I wish it were done
Or that I’d never spoke at all
Everything was better
When it was all behind walls

I used to love words
Before I met you
But now I hate them;
They’ll never capture you
How you look on fine mornings,
Or Sunday afternoons,
Our walks in the streets,
Our laughs on ears meet,
Our lips pressed together,
When you tell me forever

They never can tell
How all my love is yours
Or how I feel at night
Knowing I am yours

I used to love words
But then I met you
And I want to say all the things
words never knew
No dictionary can define
Nor thesaurus will find
The words I should feel
When you’re hands in mind

Dreaming of you is a gift in the night
I feel your touch again
And remember what has since been lost

The wrongs of the past are forgotten in there
When I hold your arm and call you mine

I look deep in your eyes
Hear your light airy laugh
Feel your hand in mine
Your warmth as we embrace
How your head fits in my shoulder
And your arm around my waste
How it feels to with you
And the warmth our spark kindles
…kindled

Sometimes I wish we could live in dreams
But what’s in our minds are a fantasy of light
A swirl of things we wish had been
A thing that never will be

I’m tired of dreaming of holding your hand
Of long drives with just you and me
Of things that will never be

I’m tired of thinking you’ll ever love I
With your sunshine smile
And moonlight eyes

You can’t drive my car
So you sat by my side
And silently took hold of my hand

I shift gears with my left
So we wouldn’t let go
But, really, in the end
I should have known

That was a dream
That felt far too real
Now it’s something I don’t want to feel

I’m tired of waking up
From these horrid little dreams
Chalked full of dread
And leave me more worn
Than my winter tires’ treads

Your love hit me like 5 inches of snow in Mid May
For a moment it reminded me of Christmas
The warmth of Carols, coco, and cheer assaulted my senses
Distracted me from the dying Dalias and frostbitten tulips you slayed
And my heart,
freshly blossomed,
withered with them

Not expecting the bitter cold
But welcoming it without worry
It was numbingly nice
Nice but no more
In the end I lost limbs to it
My nose fell clean off
My heart stopped
…I always wanted someone to do that to me
…Stop my heart
Sweep me off my feet
I just didn’t know it hurt that much to have it done