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These days it feels like I've traversed
A whole entire universe
Yet two decades with one year shy
I'm slowing down at Twenty Five.

Short of breath, I close my eyes
Yet keep the inner open wide
Upon a place that won't exist
Unless I choose to reminisce

Sleeping bleeds the staunched off wound
Once bound and kept from swollen eyes
And in the welling, gaping maw
I see the truth swept in the tide.

The sleeping gaze, turned inward then
Sees faces I won't see again
The lover I once washed away
Sweeps shore-ward, where he'll always stay

Within my skull, against my mind
Beneath the dreaming cobalt sky
The softest skin, the sweetest sin
Will always fill my dreams with him.
I've learned to let people go.
Because no one stays
and in the end everyone fades
you have to learn to let go.
And accept.
So I let them drift
out of my life
and I try not to scream
because I've built concrete walls
around myself
but I'm still wounded
from the times they damaged
my memories and threw them
into abyss of bitter agony.
But I'm an hourglass
with no sand and
my time is standing still
and I can't breathe
because my lungs
don't carry wind anymore.
And I've wasted too many pages,
too many words,
too many metaphors
to explain this emotion
It's so palpable that I feel it  
throbbing in my severed veins.
But I can't I can't I can't
fill this hollow inside me
and I've learned to breathe
with drowning lungs.
I've learned to be dead
with a beating heart.
For all those who don't know how to put their anguish in words. You're beautiful. Every one of you.
This is the sunlight
Breaking clouds apart
And bursting in my eyes
Like ten million angels
Playing the most beautiful songs
In heaven and earth
Her body
I am no longer afraid of night
I see her in my dreams
And sense with everything
Even my hands
Even my heart
Her soul
And the flowers will bloom
Only when the time is right
When spring brightens the day
And melts the ice that covered the world
That covered my sight
And covered my hope
Her being
And could be
Winter is coming
But her love
I will still be warm
As all that I need
Her life
Is my life
(Went out today,
Charter boat
Trinidad Bay
Limited out on rock fish
in two hours
Watching Elks Head
from the ocean,
Grandpa)

Isadore
Called him Izzy
Chewing all day
on a fat cigar
Looked at lot like Jimmy Durante

His father stowed away on a ship
Wasn't going to be a Russian military conscript
Genocidal pogroms were coming
how he knew
we'll never know.

Ended up in Philadelphia town,
Scranton Pennsylvania

Moved along to Brooklyn
Stubby Izzy
fighting it out with the Irish immigrants
Dreaming of having a chicken farm
over there in New Jersey

Izzy met Grandma Sarah at the family clothing store
they fought it out for 70 years
The 60's book
Games People Play
They were the star attraction
The friction was the glue
that kept them together
The friction was the match
that lit their passion.

Grandpa Izzy
funniest man I ever met
Drove an old 48 Ford
selling housewares in the Southern route.
In the morning far too early
Sneaking into his room
tickling his feet to the sounds
of ohhs and hoho's

At five years old
Grandpa Izzy
took me fishing
on some New Jersey pond -
Afternoon sun with yellow colors
bringing all the foliage alive

Sun setting
fish rising
a hand held in mine
defined the peace
I seek
in reoccurring dreams through out a lifetime

A troubled teen
all suicidal
the drive in the 48 Ford
with Grandpa Izzy
running down the Malibu pier
catching the half day boat before it
disappeared

Grandpa Izzy
never lived far from a race track
I don't know about those losing days
but the secret he said
Was to never lose your sense of humor
Always be able to laugh at yourself

Izzy smoked those big old chewed cigars
lived until he was 94

Ended up not knowing
Who or where he was

Maybe we all
end up
that way too

But in my memory
there is sharp focus
he remains alive in me

If heaven is there
I know I'll find
Izzy and I
on that New Jersey pond,
a fishing line
and
peace inside.
Grandparents are mythic creatures occupying a special place in our lives. I also want to acknowledge some were not so lucky as me, and grandparents were objects of fear and terror. Feel free to share your own experiences.
Universe is just
another word
for a greater
sense of a moment...
these are created
and destroyed
every moment.
These eyes blink
to signify so--it's
when they stop
blinking...that creation
sees destruction, destruction
sees creation perfectly.
My vision blurrs
I feel so cold
Don't know where I am
Don't even care

In this world
Where all is black
I scream and shout
But no reply

I try to find
A place to stay
Can't see a path
To lead the way

It becoms colder
As time goes by
I walk alone
There's no one here

I see a warm light
In the distance
I walk towards it
*It faded...
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