i wish, i wish, i were a simple fish,
that spends a thoughtless life in salty sea,
is hooked, and fried, and ends up on a dish,
deboned and sliced to pieces silently,

for i have been too human-like for me,
and cry out salty rivers held by dams,
for losses that, to fish, would never be,
with words upon my inner teeth enjambed,

yet if i were, the salt would grow by grams,
the sea in saltiness would **** all life,
before the fish had any chance to scram,
avoiding death to live with heavy strife,

for all my tears in water'd be unseen,
fish mouths agape would know not why they scream

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

Words that tumble inside my mouth
Stab my tongue like daggers;
I bleed so much pain.
And I really do
I really want to scream these words
From the top of my lungs
But they burst.
This is tragic, this love.
Happier than blue birds that sing
But it hurts too much to even move a limb.
Crippling love, oh woe.
Crippling love, you will save me.
Because as much as it hurts,
You'll still be my rehab, dear,
A love infested detox
Ridding my body of the demons,
The demons that cut me from the inside.
Say it. Say it. Say it.
I can't!
Two words too powerful
They inject a paralysis poison in my veins.
Say it. Say it.
I would love to, but,
I can't breathe again.
I swear,
I swear I'll learn to say it one day,
With my last gasping breath.

a thousand what-ifs swarmed before my eyes,
and stung me as if I had rocked beehives,
the woulda-coulda-shouldas, if-only-I's,
all buzzed their screams, that he'd be still alive,

yet I had done all that I knew to do,
the breaths of life I gave him, much too late,
the EMT's three-quarter hour, their crew,
could not revive my father from his fate,

his heart had fibrillated, lifeless eyes,
were blind to all, his ears heard not our screams,
upon my breath his breathing finalized,
he fell to sleep the sleep where are no dreams,

now on that couch where father there reposed,
not we nor our dear cat to rest there goes

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

One of mine,
wanting it all to have been a metaphor,
has only fallen listless--
O, to be caught in the middle of the bell curve:
it's smoke and trepidation
in my head.

Twelve shirts and six
strings to feel like home

responsibility slipped over
my head like a cashmere sweater, warm
and welcome

and I drift off to where you
are still sleeping, reach out
to brush the hair from your eyes
and wake up, refreshed and
yearning

you are my sunshine, my only
sunshine

and I am the graphite, I am the
ink beneath your fingers, happily
joining words of life on the horizon
to the fresh, green-growing present

the cozy, the comfort, if not soon then
later but ever closer in my eyes, ever
brighter in yours

remember,
         you are
         my sunshine with
laughter like rays and
   thoughts like hugs,
                             our
                           love like rippling
                           glass, ever beautiful and
                           all our own, a wonder set
                           firmly as a fiery and true
                           gemstone in your golden heart

painted a guitar today
and somehow the glossy
made it to whispered coat racks in
my head, "protecting against
rain, sun, and humidity" and

preventing me from running these
tired fingers down your cold, glassy face
as the road rises up to meet me
and my words

bring me your silence
bring
     me, full of wonder at the waterside
bring me
         a lifetime of long walks
bring me real
               freedom for two, for here
               far from worshipped lights
bring me you
                      and
please take all that I have,
all I will be in your hands

call me kindling
but I want to light a fire
in your eyes, a deep cleansing
burn to douse right-side up,
brightly

symphonic voice

held fast, dripping senses
(scoured streams if only)
lifting
off the sky and placing this
beneath rocks in cool blue
water, tentative red card-stock
hearts warmed up like heated
mattress covers in a soon-to-be
natural and slow-melting cottage

tethered happily to your
waving dock of
chamomile acclaim

seeing the same colors, not
all about interpretation but perspective

overanalyzed ice cream breaks down into glucose

overanalyzed puppies break down into proteins

only overanalyzed love continues
to defy all constraints, eluding
mental grasp as easily as an eel
in a bathtub, sought by a spoon