Honestly

I saw your smile tonight
That real
Bright
Stunning
Smile

So much more
Than those counterfeits you
Spent on me

How often you torment me
How appropriate
Since that day you determined
You now must hate me

I can’t stop thinking of you
Since that first night
I pressed my lips against yours

You trembled
In such a manner
I felt I was trespassing
Along the edge of innocence

But I trembled too
For I know I was trespassing
Along the edge of integrity

To think

That in the end

We were

Almost

Reconciled

I’m treading unsteadily
In between the plains of
Confidence and uncertainty

I’ve wasted much time.

I’ve given some **** good kisses.

I’m drifting right now
In these evening shadows,
As the sun sets down to sleep;
Drifting between heavy words

Like time,
And wait,
And cancer

I feel autumn on the breeze
Summer has gotten away from me
The hospital now like a second home
And as such, I also leave it alone

This summer seemed to take an age

To finally fully blossom;

And there, within, the smallest things

Have burst forth truly awesome.

We ask

'am i?'

He says

'I Am'

Street markets bustle
Long after dark.

Vendors offer sweet
Moments of satisfaction.

Hundreds of voices call
In a language I do not know.

In this new wild world
I have found home.

I delight in
the song of the meadowlark,
sonorous upon the fields,

And,

While I revel in
the rumbling refrain of the storm,
echoing on the hills,

I recall:

Though we were written only as
an alternate ending,

exclusive expression
delicately dotted
upon the utterance of
intimacy

It's some time

past time

for the evening lights

to be lit.



The only sound,

the kitchen faucet:

drip

drip

drip

Still,
I remember
     your lips:

Understated, yet
     strikingly sweet,

Like the scent of plums
     wavering on the breeze.

It was a striking dance between us
that night you
pulled the secrets from my sinews,

you sought all my darkest mysteries
and nearly pierced my soul

oh that we then let go.

there are no words left to me
to admit
how I long to see your eyes again,
and plunge back in
to that stunning storm

what can I say?

though now you are
beyond my hope,
my true heart has
never let you go.

The highway din is much the same
At 3am as it is at ten
Here I am in an oversized bed
Probably subconsciously
Praying for an early dawn
A day ago I was
On the other side of this odd world
In a place where dreamers
Could fall in love every day
Now hastened back to this dreary place
Too readily reminded of this
Weight of loneliness

I'm eager to









Lay her down

And

Eat her up

Her whispers tingle at my ear

As she plants seeds of expectation.

Thus I draw her in to a night

Of pleasure, and culmination.

I gave her a circlet
of sea foam pearls
from Hanok Village

perhaps some might think it
an expression of how
I felt engulfed in her loveliness

perhaps
it was merely
a gift

A meager means to share my heart

And
I suppose

she kept both

Notes scribbled out on
last call napkins,
sometimes sharing space with
uncalled numbers,
tucked neatly away in
the little desk drawer,
nestled in with notebooks
either brimming over or
brand new;

All i ever manage are scribbles
but all i ever see is you.

Would that I might

Yet adore your *******

With tender kiss

And attentive caress

my cousin is
an artist
of the highest degree

and tonight
another masterpiece
brings me pause
bids me see

how
oh how
i just wanted to be known
in these fleeting days
i just wanted to be known

i wanted it all;
days set aflame
to burn hot, untamed

but my words falter
and my steps bring shame

i still want to be known
lay these secrets out
let them burn in the day light
but i bundle them up
and carry them with me
through every taxing night

I saw you tonight

Perhaps it was shame I felt

That I stole glances of

A white spring lily

After I've so esteemed

Weeds littered on the sidewalk

How often still

You slip between

My restless thoughts

And fitful sleep

And how it is

Your lips belie

The promises of which

They sigh

even in the outlands

of this shameful world

wildflowers yet burst

in twilit hues

an earnest assurance

goodness cannot be

truly overcome

You were,
to me,
more heady
than the finest wines of France.

You were,
to me,
exemplary;
an unexpected innocence.

I can feel my heart
beating against its cage
like a couple missionaries
dressed and pressed
at my door on Saturday
eager to explain to me
the queue into heaven and say
nothing of God

it's night
or morning?
Some muted twilight
seeping through the shades
in a season between the
wholesome seasons
where it's too hot for closed windows
too cold for open ones

I have to measure my
fingers against the bottle
having long stopped counting
the drinks that are downed

I remember you
a bit
the best parts of our
scant fifty-two together

that night
maybe amid the seasons
where the clock sets
all wrong against the
charcoal skies,
but that night,
you bit me

I still feel it pulsing,
electric in my veins

abandon caution
the moment I began my trespass
the way you meticulously attacked
every sense I knew

peeling away all these
unnecessary layers
as the shadows were already
heavy enough
but peeling away
every apprehension
simply to press against you
and let, like butter,

my tongue melt

on your tender skin

In between
Dusky alleyways
Hang strings of the
Monday morning wash.

Here wealth and without
Are thus reconciled
By this common chore,

Strung up at either side
Of the bone-broth shop
And the opulent five-star

I feel myself at the
Edge of this great
Desperate
Chasm
Where the pebbles
Beside by my toes
Break away to
Hurl themselves
Into this fearful unknown

Four books at this bedside

It's not yet eight o'clock

But I cannot bring myself to
Crack any of them
Right now
To escape this weight
Another restless night

I am overwhelmed
This flood of reminiscence
And desperation
Pressing down and drawing out
The last air of these
Over-worn lungs

I can count names on
Catalogued fingertips
I can see faces, somehow,
In faltering memory



I hurl impatient prayers
At the ceiling of
This dark room
In hopes the Lord still
Seeks out sinners

Even those foul as me

September has
Slipped in
Almost unnoticed

Soon the leaves
Will redden and dry

Let go their
Summer home

And play upon the
Fore-winds of winter

I'm a child in the warmth of your laugh

And as aged as the pillars of the earth

I'm at every point I've ever been
     and never been

I'm coming together
     completely undone

You've altered the course of my story

I will never again breathe normally



You're every chance I have to take

I remember
sometimes

her voice would quiver

like paper lanterns
dancing in some
foreign nighttime glow

I fancy
sometimes

I knew that sweet tremble

at a tea ceremony table
beneath Chinese skies
many years before

it first caressed my ear

Gracious,

I've hardbound copies of

Tasting Paris

and

Koreatown

side by side.



No

I don't want some

"delightfully delicate" fusion

of these

opposite ends of the earth.



In equal measure

I am torn in two

and thus

it seems

my name

holds true.



All this world's time

is not enough.

An unsettled life
Yet pens with such

Veracity

A sort of way,
          perhaps, we

All

Might hope to trek
Through these
Long and quickened years

How much joy
Can the desperate heart endure?
Weighed down with
Bittersweet
Longing
Gouged in to the soul

And no words
Can suffice

And great hope
Cannot seem
To weather this ache

Saw a comment
In this age of interwoven everything
Incensed that Bourdain's death
Receive more attention than those
Of many lost veterans

(My father a veteran
With yet a glint of hope
To live out his years
To their natural end

And my grandfather
A serviceman long ago
Carrying light betrayals
Of this said great nation

Great men both, and)
Great those who give their all
Yet what gave us Bourdain?

Just as much
In equal measure

A life
Hard lived
Worn and weary and truthfully
Desperate

All peoples feel
The terrible weight of their sins
Even,
At days end,
Those who profess no belief

Bourdain gave art
Bought with sweat and blood and
Costly time
(For all of us
Time is valuable beyond gold)

Art
And food
And good cheer
Spent in the late evenings
And long mornings
Surrounded by all manner of
Gripping yarn

A double life?
Not unlikely
A wounded wanderer?
Most assuredly
A value immeasurable?
Beyond doubt

And what would we all do?
Should we write, or read, or sing, or paint, or eat, or travel, or labor, or rest, or weep, or laugh, or cook, or question, or answer, or defend, or break?

Love,
And live.
Veterans of this warring world
Cooks of worthy creations

i start out brunch with a double *** and coke
and consider the three bottles of long aged scotch
in the back room on the bookshelf
waiting for my palate to mature

meadowlark song beyond the bedroom window
the grey curtains drawn but sunlight still leaks in
the whole place a weird cool haze
on a soon-too-hot summer morning

i wash socks in a small white tub meant for dishes
the laundromat could save so much time
but some strange weight overcomes me
some unspoken dread lingering

it's a cruel thing to admit
often what i miss most about you
are all the places i never actually kissed

the summer days leave me
dappled by the burning sun
the heat paws at me and sometimes
being this mess i am
i imagine it's simply you

i've been shuffling around in the socks of a dead man

i don't want to die in a hospital bed
mummified quite politely in their
robe of humiliation
before they wheel me off to excavate any
unspoiled organs
to suit another ill-fated man

i should be out
on the charred pavement and
streets of dust
catching the taste of this bittersweet place
on the edge of my tongue
though the dregs and the derelicts
trudge beneath a weight of weariness
and i am fit between it all

Seattle scent this Denver night
Hazy are the city lights
Away in flight sets her plane
But I below am kissed by rain

Below by rain, kissed am I
As her plane takes to the sky
Lights now dimmed by city haze
We yet count our numbered days

I heard you talk and wonder,
Laugh with a lilt,
Even curse in fearful anger.
But,
It was with a whisper,
Soft and subtle,
Sharp enough to split my chest,
You stole my heart away.

it seems the focal word is simply 'survive'
as if any of us get out alive
and all these suits think they determine my brothers
by little more than all our skin colours
well at the end of the day
we wash it all away
and after all our years
we have to leave this place here
it's not just about the desire to survive
what good is that if we cannot thrive?
beyond the ***** and *** and ****
we all have within a fierce unmet need
till the day he calls and bids our blind eyes to see

don't give up here
don't give up now
don't be a coward
don't be so proud

stop fearing love
as if it were some mere emotion
fools lean on such notions
like propping foundations
against ocean waves

let's not take all these petty things
to the edge of our graves

some of us get a hundred years
of swiftly burning days
some of us get more or less
before we must continue on our way
and it's not nearly
enough time here
so let's not take all these petty things
to the edge of our graves

i am desperately trying
to gather up every word
carved upon my heart
that only my spirit has heard

i am longing to share
this story flooding in me
but how i fear them all
who won't know what i see

I've listened long
To men so loud
Boasting on and
Ever proud

I've listened less
To honesty
Fearful it might
Undo me

balancing on open palms
a choice between
whisky and coffee,
for neither

at this hour

is necessary,
but either
at this hour
seem right

Rains are rare
Upon these plains
Near Tornado Alley
Snow more oft
And winds blow
In this little valley

Her neighbors were her friends
Her friends were her family
Her family went unnumbered
For with a smile she won strangers
And called them her neighbors

until the waves stain red the shores

we will not hear 'peace'

we will only hear 'more'

I am struggling
To stay focused
To show restraint
To persevere
To accept grace

3am is so unkind
to a lonely longing mind

See the stories in the snow
Footprints, and the ways they go
Side by side
And all alone
Setting out and going home

Her laughter has

worked its way

in between my heartbeats

the empty tree branches

reach out for the moon

as miserly fingers

straining for a doubloon

What am I doing with my life?
     Looking through my past
     And all these little things
     The error of my ways
          What are you looking for?

The only one who didn't fold:

A worthy brother
Upon golden sands
The soul of a warrior
Like nobody else