Teasing from behind
that veil of mystery
Playing with pseudonyms
And toying with my affections.
What’s in a name anyway?
It’s not the person.
I can live with a charade,
My life is a progression of charades,
A series of train cars
One deception following the next
Stopping traffic
A victim of endless inertia.
I play her game, dive into her fiction
She’s a mistress, an object of desire
Hiding from love beneath her bowler hat.
She’s a muse, stirring emotions
Inciting creation.
Constructing a flimsy edifice
To keep the world at bay
A fruitless attempt at solace
And privacy and peace
For her passion is a magnet
Anonymity is ******* by her attraction.
One cannot put a label on truth.

Where are all the philosophers when you need one?
This existential limbo is anything but fun.
They must be sipping coffee on the Left Bank
I’m sinking here with only myself to thank.
I am, therefore I think.
I’m thinking, but what am I?
I couldn’t reason myself out of a zip-lock bag.
Get Kant on the phone, and don’t give me Camus,
His solution is like a bad tattoo,
It‘s deep and written in black,
My friend, there is no going back.

She haunts my days
My thoughts float on her spirit
Living in the mirror.
The looking glass becomes her;
My dissipated identity cowers
In a morphed reflection she now owns.
I wasn’t prepared for this possession.
Slipping through the unseen gap,
Sliding in with the night breeze
My unknown twin has arrived
Setting up house in my soul.
Futile struggles to escape
Leave me walking backward
Sighing to accept my fate.
I want to embrace my twin
But I fear a deception
My eyes cant perceive.
Or is it my own likeness
I refuse to trust?
She has rocked my foundation,
Opened my vault to light
Blinding light overwhelming
All senses.
Repelled by my failures
Attracted by my nascent dreams
This haunting has enveloped me
Losing my will to resist
I am drawn to her reflection
My reflection.
Our reflection.

I swallow the first signs of spring
With my morning juice
The birds are awake,
I can’t shake winter’s noose.

While this body moves slow
The seasons change fast
I spread the marmalade
And dwell on summers past

Crumbs are sprinkled like snowflakes
Memories appear so palpable
The breakfast stains are set
I ponder, am I culpable?

I’m social by nature
But take my meals alone
I raise my glass and toast
Dreams for which I can’t atone

Every meal we shared
Is on the tip of my tongue
The songs that she loved
Will never be sung

The solace I seek
I try to pry from her fist
All the windows are open
The stale odors persist

I’ve cleared the table
But I have a hunch
Whatever I’m serving
She’ll be here for lunch.

I grab at illusions
They fog my brain
And emotions
Then softly melt

I acquire crates
Of love and vows
Upon the mantel they stay
But some things get lost
Along the way.

Sample my elixir
I hear the gypsy woman
A cure for the broken heart
A balm for the scars of love

I collect the cures
They merely feed the disease
Upon the mantel they stay
But some things get lost
Along the way

I seem to strive
For second best
It has its charms
And lower expectations

That sharp pinnacle
In the blazing midday sun
Exists for climbers
Scaling their dreams

I prefer to seek
The plaintiff plateau
Upon the mantel they stay
But some things get lost
Along the way

I thought patience was a virtue
But we can have too much
Of a good thing.
My patience is killing me;
I have banished the clocks--
The tick-tock tick-tocks
Were needles pricking my heart.
Just waiting for a word--
A teaspoon of sugar.
I have never been greedy
Or a glutton.
But my capacity for punishment
Surprises even me.
She doesn’t deserve even one second
Of my vanishing hope
I’m supping on self pity
Tonight.

Today I awoke
To a deafening sound
The sands of the hourglass
Were shaking my soul.
Each grain tore into my flesh
And bombarded my pride
Finally the last grain fell
The hourglass was empty
I was empty.
Time had ended.
I will wait no more.

A year from now I’ll look back
At you and me and what we had
The endless fights will have faded,
Our struggles just clouds of memory.
The good times will shine
Casting light on my nostalgic shrine
To the long gone past.
We tried and tried and tried
To make it work.
Our failure is buried with our futility
Perhaps it does not live on
Our meek success kept alive
Not interred with the bones of our disaster.
Am I wrong to recall
Those moments of bliss amid the ruins?
They hang in the air
I pluck the fruit of our doomed love.
I can taste the sweetness now
The cool juice drips
Excites my senses
You excite my senses
Even now.

I am a stranger to my life.
And all these years
I thought we were old friends.
But things have changed
I don’t know you anymore,
We have parted ways
Found new loves
Sit on a park bench;
You read the paper
I feed the pigeons.
Remembering the old days
A simple spontaneity
Was our only plan.
I’m surprised I can recall
A time before the layers of care
Dulled the senses
And marred the vision.
But it is fresh in my mind
Touching my nerves
With its presence
So much more than a memory;
My history has come alive
I will read every line
Each name and place and date
Make it linger
Keep the taste fresh
Savor the sweet nectar of youth
Acquaint myself with the child
Acquire that vision
Behold that life
Before it fades in the breeze.

On those gray days when you were a mystery
I fed off the puzzle of our dynamic;
Craving your conundrums
To keep me unsteady.
My nature abhors the predictability of persistent logic
I sink to the depths with plodding reason;
You aroused me with the unspoken absurdity of moment
Scrambled my linear thought.
You were my lightning--
Always guessing your intensity and position.
In the deep quiet of our room
You sat and filled me with wonder
An artist’s soul, never satisfied
Proving anti-matter and testing the boundaries of love.
Why did I find your uncertainty so reassuring?
Letting go as I floated among your clouds.

Please don’t love me
Just desire me
When I get boring
You can fire me

With your kisses
I’m over sated
The bonds of love
Are over rated

Like me hate me
Touch me hold me
When I’m bad
You can scold me

Love is a trap
That will bind you
Get held hostage
They’ll never find you

We all promise
for better or worse
little do we know
its such a curse

Such a sweet addiction
to be adored
the pleasure wanes
we just get bored

We’ll forego
fortune and fame
but can’t stop trying
to play this game.

On a late night flight
Between heaven and home
The turbulence makes her think
How she’s been forced to roam.

Struggling with pleasure and pain
Love, loss and yearning
Stumbling through the smoke
Of the bridges she is burning

She just wanted the world
Was that too much to ask?
But she traded that dream
For the happy family mask.

But dreams are fragile
And so easily dashed,
Dangling in the downdraft
They finally crashed.

Lost on the endless plain
The blowing wheat can beguile,
Shifting with the wind
It confounds her personal exile.

Her love lies fallow
The growing season will expire,
Empty fields call her name,
As she follows her desire.

A dangerous bargain she has made,
Requiring all her talents,
Riding without reins,
She keeps that delicate balance.

Memories dance in my head
Mined from an abandoned quarry
A lost and forgotten vein
Becoming rich with pain

Buried beneath a victory garden
The roots have spread
Unnoticed. Unhindered. Untouched
Nourishing the first of the bitter fruit

I want to fly. Untethered.
Grounded by the past
Entombed by choices long forgotten
Forgiven. Forced to revisit.

My history has given birth
To every step, every breath
I focus on the future and see
A mirror preaching with conviction

Amen. I can’t resist.
We pray for release
But listen for restraint
And live for desire.

My passions can mask
A world of darkness
I look to the light
And fall down the rabbit hole.

I knew it was coming
Like the evening train.
A few minutes early
Or a few minutes late.
I’m adjusting now
For the journey home.
A little older and a little wiser
It’s a good time
To clear the senses
And face the truth
In the mirror.
I loved her in my way
She didn’t deserve my love
I’m sorry to say
I wanted so much
For her to deserve it
And want it even
But she wouldn’t go that far
Unrequited love is a heartbreak
Unwanted love is a tragedy.
I can’t accept a tragedy
It’s a big word, and heavy
Let’s just say a misunderstanding
Two hearts that passed in the night
Not hearing, not touching
But the scent of her still lingers
My clothes reek of her
But her clothes smell of the spring day
Untouched unsullied
My tears left no stain upon her soul.

Sitting at the window
A girl alone in her room
So sad and delicate
A rose waiting to bloom

Tears glisten in the sun
Yearning for a life to live
Why is she imprisoned
With so much love to give?

A book of childhood dreams
With pages turned to dust
Her faith was stolen
Because she gave her trust

With dawn a journey beckons
A new path she will uncover
Life and love await  
Her spirit she will discover

Now the lonely tears will fall
On the ground and they are gone
Feeding the thirsty rose
Which will bloom with the dawn.

The rain has stopped
The air is still
A softness permeates the dark
Calm spreads upon the dampness
We touch and melt
Into the perfect night
Your sweetness mirrors
The reflection in the pools of your eyes
Nature does no wrong
Restores the spirit
Keeps the ebb and flow
Harmony becomes you
Becomes us.
We awaken to the dawn
The light creates you anew
Memories of the night
Are written on your brow
Keep me guessing.

A storm that thrills
But does not frighten.
A tightrope lofty and delicate
But steady like a rock.
Passion that knows no bounds
But embraced and held close.
Words whispered in breathless joy
But echo endlessly in the canyon.
A touch as ephemeral as a fading dream
But etched on my skin.
Laughter that lifts and lightens
But brings tears to my desires.
Moments that can’t be described
But evoke a language I’m still learning.
Sensations heavy and overpowering
But float and dissipate in a mist.
Love intangible.
But real.

She floats with the music
The rhythm carries her in the air
A graceful symmetry of body and motion
Relaxed, relieved, she relishes the touch
Of sound upon her soul

Effortless she glides
above the dance floor of life.
Simply an illusion
Like a glittering gown
Worn to sparkle but defies inspection.

In tango she is released
The Latin beat breaks the bonds
Of plodding history
And love found and lost
Of life’s regrets filed away.

She twirls and poses
Shedding years and tears
A young child sits upon the floor
Shivering, alone, pondering
The future.

She finds comfort here
Enveloped by a firm caress
Grounded to the past
In love with the present
And the art of becoming.

She speaks in the dance
A voiceless conversation
A language of love she understands
He understands
It takes two to tango.

I am floating in my fantasies tonight.
Can’t decide if I’m sad or resolved
Things that could have been
Fall like dust on my table
I want to sweep them away
But I need to think of their random patterns
And uselessness….at least a little more.
It’s a trap, a tempting trap
I won’t fall in, but will dip my toes.
Do I have any more control of the past
Than of tomorrow?
I am already regretting a future
That has not yet disappointed me.
But I sense it will.
I need to live in the present
Away from what could have
And what should have
And what might, but won’t.
This music doesn’t help.
Just the melancholy soundtrack of my life.
Each note mirrors my heartbeat
Struggling to be heard.
But it will be.
These dreams are mine
And they won’t float away
In the river of memory.

The chairs are neatly arranged
Soft music fills the gaps
Of scattered conversations
That come and go like the people

I take my seat
I’ve been here before
I know the patterns
Repeating on the wallpaper

Across from the window I sit
I like to see the view
Of life on the street
Far from this waiting room

I enjoy the familiar faces
Pleasantries are exchanged
He or she sits, ponders
And leaves through a door

I might read or write
Or shut my eyes and sleep
I awake and different seats
With new faces are taken

The door is large
And freshly painted
As it opens, the light
Spills into this room

And the people come and go
Some days I count them
Some days I ignore
But they pass me by

The room could be cold
A chill cuts me deep
I always bring my sweater
Let’s me pretend I’m warm

I recall the day
The invitation came
“Come with me through the door”
Maybe it was just a song

Maybe it was a friend
Maybe it was a stranger
I gave a wise smile
And looked out the window

Another day dawns in the waiting room
The room fills quickly
As the morning passes
I am there but strangely distant

I move from seat to seat
A cushion is torn
Another is frayed
I wait.

She runs with the pack
Keeping the plodding pace
Jogging past ancient doors
And icons of the past
The eyes of the adoring crowd
Smother her in kisses
She’s burdened by the blessings
Staring down the horizon
She yearns for something more.

Glimmers of a sprightly past
Tunes bounce about like butterflies
She moved unburdened untouched
Her soul was sparkled
And her voice alive
A studio of life and love and movement
With the sky for a ceiling
Float away at midnight
Traded for a frozen dance
And a voice muffled.
There’s glitter and gold
But she yearns for something more.

A young girls dream of love
And romance
It surrounds her by day
And eludes her by night
Its all from the book
But none from the dream
She smiles and smiles
And then checks the mirror
Her contentment is a wool coat
Sturdy and warm
She cries to run freezing in the snow
Screaming as the flakes alight
It’s a satisfying scene
But she yearns for something more.

Walking down the avenue
Familiar comfortable,
I know the cracks in the sidewalk.
Years ahead or years behind
I could walk this street blind.
There are ghosts in the air
That lead me on
And no sooner have I left
That I’m home again.
But around the corner
If I dare
There’s a promise of mystery
A path unknown
The footsteps have faded
An empty canvas of concrete
Damp with a haunting melody
That spreads like fog
Beckons me to a light unseen
Unfamiliar sights but I’m not lost
The way home blurred by the mist
I can’t turn back, there is no way home.
I dance as the music quickens.