The woman knows what she wants
The woman knows how to get it
Is this a story as old as time
Played out with repeated predictability
And a resolution inevitable and clear?

Beauty and cunning wield a deft hammer
Subtle as the breeze from a butterfly wing
Why do I dance to her magnetic tune?
I pull away, at least I try
Her ambivalence ensnares me once again.

Don’t think I’m here blind and foolish--
I’m awake and analyzing her every move
But reason is worthless and weak
Logic is lifeless and limp
Against the curve of her back.

I crave substance; she ponders…
Gives me vapors and fog.
I want loyalty and trust
She smiles, that’s her truth.
How does one say no to a woman?

Her experience belies her age
But youth is her strength one minute
And her weakness the next.
She juggles her assets in hypnotic circles
I’m left wondering what’s behind that silky curtain.

She’s a crafty contradiction
And I’m learning at her knee
Oh what a knee it is
I’m taking lessons from a master
And I have to go, school’s about to begin.

She was lost in a deep dark chasm
Of pain and desire
Bitter memories that stained
The rock walls.
She scaled the shear cliffs
With each new day
A dawn of hope spurred her forward
Inches every day she rose
Closer to the light
Bathed in sunshine
And warm desert air
With each step she became unshackled
Breaking the bonds of history
Rewriting her life and smelling the sweet
Flowers of the spring for the first time.
Nature’s power to heal embraced her nakedness
A young bird taking flight
From the comforting nest.
Her delicate wings are buoyed
By the updrafts from the canyon.
Rising higher and higher
Above the stagnant river bed.

The opposite of one,
The great minds will explain,
Is not none,
But borders on insane.
And will there be attraction,
Like one finds in love,
Or simply more distraction,
And more of the above?
Seek and find,
Find and seek,
A puzzle in a pretzel,
A dripping from a leak.
When you think you’ve found equation,
And all sums negate,
Hold you breath for deflation,
And be prepared to debate.
I went down that road,
In the forest it did diverge,
I thought my karma flowed,
Until the paths did merge.
A quest for that grail,
May never really end,
But lift anchor and sail,
And hope you find a friend.

The journey has begun
It’s her journey,
But, of course, it’s mine as well.
Different roads we’re on,
She is on a path of discovery;
A new land.  A new man.
Perhaps even a path to freedom.
My travels are inward
Trying to grasp the changes
Which will surely come.
Like a billboard rushing by
In the glare of headlights
Its message seen peripherally
Is that what it said?  Maybe not.
Just trying to get a sense
Are we traveling apart?
Or simply in different lanes
Parallel. Watching each other
Always mindful of the gap.
Or am I following her
Mimicking her every turn
Destined to never catch up?

Her beauty is a river,
Slowly flowing at my feet.
Winding through a young forest
Almost motionless
The current waves to the admiring
Aspen leaves.
Small boats with magnetic joy
Cling to the rippling surface,
Travel briefly downstream
Get mired in the sand.
Reflections sparkle,
tickle my fantasy
I watch my toes in the cool water

Her passion is a river,
Churning swiftly with abandon.
Cutting its own path
Following the forces of nature.
Listen, she speaks clearly:
Admire the power
But the fury will not be harnessed.
I tremble as the raging current
Creates a windstorm in its wake.

I sit here, surrounded
By the confluence of these mighty rivers.
The waters co-mingle
I am enveloped in the rising mist
My eyes are shut
Reason is abandoned
As I submerge in the torrent
My soul to be delivered
Downstream
As nature dictates.

There was no music in my life
So I invented a violin.
It sat on my table and I watched;
My hand slid across the smooth wood,
It gave me not a sound.
I shut my eyes;
In my head I listened for a note
But it refused to share.
The precision of form,
Perfection of line
This instrument taunted me
And left me deaf with my dreams.
I recalled how I had been caressed
By it’s sweetness on many a lonely night--
Surrounding the silence with silky tones.
I am left with the dying embers
And haunted by its cold closeness.

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.

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.

There she is
reflected in this tiny droplet,
I see her laughter her pain
Her struggles and joy
Crisp and flawless like her love.

I am in there as well
The dreams dashed
The dreams unfulfilled
The future waiting to unfurl.
A teardrop is a marvelous thing
Like a bird’s eye
The future and the past
In clear view
Nothing obscured
Nothing hidden to protect the innocent
Or the sensitive
Or those trying to forget.

Sharply I see her good
Embracing her imperfections.
What is the formula one employs
To solve the mystery of love?
My rational mind is left wanting
Wavering and vacillating between
Apples and oranges
But in this teardrop
All is made clear
The fog and fissures
Are wiped clean and caulked,
Respectively.
The world I need and the world
My heart desires
Reflects with blinding light
With precise clarity.
From this crystal half dome
My blurred doubts are brought
Into focus
My entire world resides there
In that one tear of joy.

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

You told me that you loved me.
The words I want to hear.
You say we’ll be together
Forever and a year.

I’ve given you many chances
More than you deserve.
Running round behind my back,
Where do you get the nerve?

Last night I saw the lipstick,
You thought I wouldn’t see,
So you better pack your bags,
It’s the third time you’re two-timing me.

Your lying and your cheating,
Now I’m gonna be free
You might be dumb but you can count,
It’s the third time you’re two-timing me.

Well it’s one for the money,
And two for the show,
Third time’s a charm,
Now you have to go.

Can’t you just be honest,
I know what I can see,
Putting two and two together,
It’s the third time you’re two-timing me.

Your lying and your cheating,
Now I’m gonna be free
You might be dumb but you can count,
It’s the third time you’re two-timing me.

Notes float like snowflakes
Carried by the gentle breeze
Landing randomly on her forehead
Her breast and shoulders,
Melting before they can be heard
Or transcribed to paper.
A melody etched in a dream
Fading with the first thought,
But the tune lingers in memory
Nonetheless.
It’s a duet we compose
In passionate embraces
Improvised and syncopated
Lifting spirits and lightening the heart.
This composition has only just begun
Exposing the first movement
We dance to unheard chords,
Smiling and humming as the phrases
Fill the air.
It’s an opus built on hope
In the mystery of night
And structured on sighs.
We are ignorant of the movements
Yet to write,
But we surrender to the inspiration
As the music ebbs and flows
Then in gradual crescendo
We wait, we ponder, we fear
The music yet to come,
In the symphony yet to be written
Our unfinished symphony dances on.

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.

Your silent steps indent the newly fallen snow,
Thoughts envelope the night world,
Yearnings I can feel, transported on flakes
But reaching my window nonetheless.

Amber light glowing catches your eye,
A couple sharing dinner, warmth
Radiating from a home foreign to you,
You continue in chilly silence ahead.

Turning back you breathe in that harmony,
Saving you from the icy wind;
Oh, but if only you could fly
And share in that scene for a moment.

Turn away, you fool, don’t look here,
Yes, it’s warm, it’s safe from winter’s grip,
But the glass distorts
The joy you long to melt within.

There’s no love here, no peace,
No care, just a meal being shared
In the shadow of a fireplace
Creating heat where none exists.

Keep your thoughts away,
They will freeze amid the icy stares
Piercing vintage wine and
Blood rare steak.

There is death at this table.
Starving for love.  Famished for care
Reason dissolved long ago,
Leaving not a trace or stain.

Go, go, leave your footprints in the snow,
I watch them fade as the night drifts,
It’s so easy to be fooled,
On a cold night.

Walking along the shore in the fog
My steps follow each other
Not thinking of the morning
Or the evening before
How does one recover?
Let the love come in
Open a heart to the wind
And the rays of the sun.
The small waves lap my feet
As one melts another grows
The endless push of the sea.
Another child.
Where does the love come from?
Can I create it from dust?
I am spent and dry
A barren well.
And the waves cover my feet
I sink slightly in the sand
The water is warm
I walk toward a point
In the distance.
Steps. Steps.
It gets no closer.
The waves continue
My feet ever wet.
Nature never falters
A well never barren
A sea never dry.

It’s becoming clear
Old fashioned romance is dead
I want an LTR
But they want to hook-up instead.

I want long term dating
Not short-term flings,
I want tight and secure
Not something no-strings.

At my age I never considered
Meeting someone for a hook-up
This is a crazy situation
I just couldn’t cook up.

This casual dating I find
Is just making me frantic,
Somehow it doesn’t jive
With an old-school romantic.

For a writer
It’s like committing libel
To a true believer
Like speed-reading the Bible.

Now I sit here wondering
Should I accept the latest fashion,
And let them satisfy
Their hot-blooded passion?

In the beginning was the word
The ideas flowed like wine
Grappling through the night
We explored
The ramifications of the past,
The indentations of the present
The permutations of the future.
We delved the endless font
Of our literal lives
Page after page we turned
Swallowing chapters, misspelled loves
Grammatical wastelands spread across the crumbled sheets,
All could be corrected.
Those words, I can still remember
Embossed on my brow
Like Braille, I’m blind enough to read.

In time the words went dry.
Perhaps we said it all.
Or chose to say no more.
The questions were replaced
With smug complacency.
The river of curiosity slowed,
And trickled between our toes.

In the end there were no words.
Passion took the podium
In tender speechless quiverings
We pressed the meaning on our flesh
Somehow it was enough
As we devoured our silent summations.
The unspoken proclamations
Confirmed my doubts
Reaffirmed my hopes.
As the last page was turned
The rising sun filled the empty room.

Words can move mountains,
And the pen is mightier than the sword.
Words can heal, and words can uplift.
But a few ill-chosen words
Can bring down a world.
Weigh your words carefully
Such power is hidden in their silence
And an innocent remark
Might be twisted and sharpened
To reveal a hideous weapon
Dripping with slander and guile.
A word is a dove sent aloft
A symbol of peace and white purity.
It flies from your sheltering hands
To encounter a world that knows
Not of peace.
Not of purity.
Like the whale,
It’s whiteness is perceived
As a raptor of evil.
The minds of others can be controlled
Not.
Our words migrate to distant shores
Rejected and misunderstood
Alien beings, unkempt and unwashed
Morphed into a threatening tempest
By its mere presence.
The sea is teeming with words
They buoy your boat
Keep it bobbing on the churning sea
Or they can engulf the rudder
And cast you adrift in meaningless doldrums
Or sink you amid an indefinable whirlpool.

I worry too much
I think too much
About things
I cannot change.
A woman’s mind,
For one,
Can’t be changed.
She is.
She will be.
I can only accept
Or leave.
If I accept
Then no worry;
If I leave,
Then I’m gone.
I repeat--
I worry too much.
But not anymore.
It feels good;
A weight has been lifted,
It was so easy.
Maybe too easy.
Now I’m worried.

Acceptance based on faith
And blind intuition
Was the first step on the path.
A light from a dark solid rock
A lotus blossom from a murky pond.
The path to Nirvana has no guideposts
Often overgrown or even sandy
And shifting beneath our feet.
But true pilgrims persevere
And follow the silent call
Of destiny or dharma or desire,
Not earthly desires,
For they are a temptress
And an illusion,
But unseen desires,
Unfelt desires,
Deep desires that complete
A Karmic fate.
Our journey is pure and
Preordained,
If we melt into oneness
And feel the soft petals
Beneath our blistered feet.

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.