The fields were
Drenched in the
Silent static
That shimmered hesitantly
From a brew of clouds
Huddled up high.

I saw you for the last time
before you left for Georgia
we hugged in the hotel hallway
people walked by, we didn't care
what they thought of us.
It felt like it was just you and me.

I mumbled into your chest, "You smell good"
"It's Old Spice" you said "now whenever you smell Old Spice you'll think of me"

Now you're gone, and I probably won't see you again ever in my life.

I'll see you when I stand in the aisles
In the store looking for Old Spice
So I can smell you again.

Underneath the painted rock
you'll find a key
I ain't much for hiding
but that's just me
There's a book of pomes (yeah, pomes)
beneath my pillow
You might find one or two
to your liking
But that's a'right if you don't
I wrote 'em
for you, any ol' way
Come September
if I don't remember
where I hid my key
That book of pomes'll be
still beneath my pillow
If you care
to take a read.

r ~ 7/12/14

A wise man once told me,
"Son, a million dollars is worth
a million dollars. "
That was the last time I saw him.
It has been six years and
I still can seem to find enough money,
to make him proud.

Once I saw lightning strike a field.
It was magnificent.
I could have sworn the Earth stopped.
It didn't.
Life never stops.

Do you want to know a secret?
The wise man was a fool and
life does end.
Shocking revelations from the fool's student.

When does the student,
become the teacher?
When the fool becomes intelligent
the world will know peace
or
burn.

A wise man once told me,
"Son,
live your hours day by day."

I still hold on to the knowledge and
live my life day by hour.

Please stop rhyming in poems.
Start using Kung Fu.
What is going on?
This isn't my universe.

Will you remember me, Tanzania?
When my map of your curves is folded
And I see no more your mountain in my mind
Only your smile, straight as a line
On the day I flew away.

The wind travels far, Tanzania
And I must follow
Knowing you has left me hollow
And thus I search
But will you remember me?

The feel of my flip-flop footfalls on your face,
The sound of my laugh as your wind carried it away,
Will you remember how your thorns pierced me,
Pleading with me to stay?
Oh, will you remember me Tanzania?

We pause for a moment at the barbed wire fence,
Brief it burned
But coke-bottle circles in my cheeks will be my memento
Like your dark-eyed children and how, somehow they grow
Taller, darker, row on row.
Tell me you will miss me so
Oh Tanzania.

Will you remember how your sun kissed my forehead?
And how I tasted the feel of your words on my tongue?
How I stole your air to fill my lungs?
I stole as much as I could bear.
Small, dark hands braided my hair

Will you remember me, Tanzania?
As I cling to these landmarks and scars
Which fade from my mind,
Remember how I shook as we left each other behind
Remember how I wore your earth on my skin
Then let your rains wash me clean
How I felt your forest
Brown and green
You were not as you first seemed
But nor was I

Tanzania, Tanzania
What will you remember?
Here with your thoughts on mine,
I bless the legacy of your skyline.
Beautiful or ******
Oh, Tanzania
Who do you say that I am?

My fingers trace
your contours
in my thoughts.
The highs and lows,
your inclines
rise and fall.
Spaces in between
grow distant
from ridge and valley
to coastal plain.

Through uncharted territory
I follow the beaten path
till trail turns to sand
and desert meets ocean.

Contours fade
and wash away.
You slide into
the deep blue
and cross the border.

r ~ 7/5/14