She lives in the dance
Music moves body and soul
Worlds swirl around her

The room sleeps
As I lay awake
And as the sun rises
I want to reach out the window,
shove it back down and
Give myself a few more hours
With the calm rise and fall of your chest.

I don’t exist outside of here,
Only between the posts of your bed.
Fabrication
Needing constant validation
From your touch.
And if the morning never comes,
You’ll stay here
And I can pretend to be
What you need.

If time runs
Then I should be able to dam it up
Like a river
Stop it from flowing
Freeze it in place.

But time is greedy.
The moon is too weak
To stick around.

When light fills the room
And wakes it from delirium
The dreamer stirs
And I disappear.
Am I just a dream?

When I’m gone there is nothing.
Just time.

One word from your lips
And my body reanimates
Dances, breathes
then lies still again.
Finally awake.
But alive? Real?
The room only knows.

I can't sleep
Everytime I remember your words
They snap and recoil
And hurt me awake
Next time when someone
Promises me forever
I'll just smile
Look them in the eyes and ask
How long is forever to you.

As the night waits for the morning sun

Do I in earnest await to hear from you

Away from you I'd never run

The amount of love I have.. If only you knew



Below the ocean surface

As deep as this my love for you abounds

With you I feel of more purpose

If you want me to explain, forever on this I could expound



Give me your heart once again

This time I want it forever to keep

For mine, you don't need to win

It's always been within your reach



Nothing would bother me

If it were for you

Don't you see?

We're meant to be, its true.

No allusions to talking sticks,
or metaphors of a chrome plated god,
because it's only life.

I can make use of a woman
with supple ankles stepping off the bus
kindling my hips and heart,

(but you've heard that one before,)
and, it's only life, so this might
just read like an instruction manual,

or both halves of a confessional,
but there will be no use made
of dancing dogs or moonlight

in battle, because it's only life,
and I have never really known
what it is I want to say to you.

It’s something like, "I love you,"
but asides from just being
very frightening to say,

I also think, it's more.
If it's only life, it's also
only death,

and what can be said that penetrates
death. What can be said
that won't collapse like engine failure

in the span between you and I,
if I try to say an "I love you"
that's truer than death.

To Dance
To Strike
To Jump
To Fly
This is the nature of CAPOEIRA
  To Play
  To Rhyme
  To Honor
  To Respect
This is the nature of CAPOEIRA
  To Ride
  To Walk
  To Run
  To Sing
                        This again is the nature of CAPOEIRA
                                       Capoeira is a way of Life,
for some of us (the Capoeiristas) is a daily ritual but over all Capoeira  is a method,
a Discipline to be Live by Vigorously or as you see fit to and that's the 2nd beautiful way of CAPOEIRA You choose what you wanna get out of it; You choose how much life you wanna put into it,
Its all up to you, But as for me I will tell you this;
CAPOEIRA is a Life Long practice which I have always had a High passion for and I feel that Capoeira is call me once again....
What would you do; Would you ignore the call or would you except it . As said before its your choice. Which one shall I choose?
                                           Do you Know?
                                            Can you guess?
                                            Its OK if you can't
                                 Let me know what you think I'll do.
                                                            After all
                                                      Life is Capoeira
                                                                 and
                                                        Capoeira is Life

I hope death is a woman - a big, beautiful, black woman, who will instruct me on the ways of the crossing-

            “Before the union,
              is the mingling
              of your suffering and joy
              shuffled with your then and now
              most true in the ways you were
              never right or wrong,
              only anxious in your loving
              better.”

And I will defend myself with my wisest words –

“Amazing!
  Though I’d never practiced,
  I knew to kiss you right there.”

and-

“There is so much terror in this life,
  prayer is bound to be effective.”

and-

“Don’t make it small. Make it round
  and sweet, like all good fruits.”

and-

“Even the most sincere privilege,
  a poet’s fame,
          will not save me from death.”


I believe she will smile, touch her finger to my forehead, and permit my disappearance, into that wet, wet love that holds your longing as you undress.

(gulp)

Couldn’t resist a minute more.

Relapse.

I again…

After six months sober...

Here.

In this pain I know all too well.

Ten years lost to this drug my veins ache for.

First breath in the morning and last thought at night, all consumed by it.

Every cell in me craves it.

That physical euphoria my body portraits.

Feels like someone has poured pure joy into every single muscle and fiber of my being.

It makes me feel so content

Every single bit of me is singing and buzzing with life and love.

It's like the ecstasy of *******— that first blissful, pleasurable pulsation of endorphins and serotonin.

This is what I feel when I first take LOVE.

And then...

And then, the honeymoon stage is over.

Fights erupt.

Never-ending debates.

Miscommunications.

Misperceptions.

No trust.

Accusations.

Lies.

“I’m done...”

…

Again, it feels like a part of my soul is leaving my body.

Again, sitting here numb.

A toxic love...

I’m addicted to,

And there’s no way around it.

It’s already deep intertwined with my veins.

Yet, no matter the toxic, tragic event that happened before, I sit here, and I want nothing more than to spend my life next to this soul.

To see his eyes unchanged as the skin around it wrinkles and grows old is what my heart will always desire— to stare at those eyes for the rest of eternity.

Dead air…


















So here I’ll wait, until you decided to come into my life again and repeat this déjà vu.

I get embarrassed when you read my poems
And you know they're about you.
I get shy and nervous and scared you'll run away.
I don't have the words to say
How much I love you
But I try when I write to you
Things I think you'll never read
And then you see them and my head spins.

Is it too much? Can you love someone too much?
Is my love intimidating? Probably.
There's a lot of it to give.
But if it's intimidating to you then maybe
You don't deserve it.
Maybe

Are you overwhelmed by your love for me, too?