hello, love.
    one day
       i would like a library
                   a whole library, in our very own house.


I've already started collecting, you know
(things like that take a lot of planning)
books, i mean. collecting books
from second-hand bookstores and thrift shops.
floor to ceiling to floor, the room will have books
and millions of golden threads leading from the pages,
connecting our little corner of the world to the rest of it.
to London in 1854, and Iran in 1990, and India tomorrow.
we can walk into our library any old time
and amble right on through to anywhere.

                     mom didn't like to buy me many books as a child
                     oh, yes, she taught me the importance of reading
                     we read every day, and for that i owe her my life.
                     but we didn't buy them
                    books, i mean
                     because i'd read them too quickly
                     a day or two, maybe
                     and so we used the library

want to know something nerdy?
i was probably the only nine-year-old in the city
to have the library card number memorized,
all fourteen digets.
did you know they max out at 30?
books, i mean.
30 books at one time.

We will read to our children every single night. we will act out the stories; we will help them see that the stories are just as alive and breathing as they are. you can be Peter Pan, and i'll be Frances Hodgson Burnett's Sara Crewe.

and when they are old enough, they will read to themselves every day as a chore, like making their beds or unloading the silverware. hopefully they won't see it like that, like a chore. hopefully they will become addicts. they will sneak flashlights into their rooms and read underneath the covers after bedtime every night.

                              but we'll never ground them for that.
                              instead, we'll take trips to the library
                             and teach them how to dream.

                                               all my love.

If I were an opened can of pop,
You know what I'd be right now?

Flat.

That,
Is a horrible thing to be,
Cause you see,
I am up and bubbly fresh,
Now down,
Gloomy doomy death.

I am moss on crack,
Growing out of floor,
Covering the world,
And wanting more.

Cause you see,
When a blind man falls,
I like to laugh,
Because he doesn't know when the ground
Is going to hit him in the face,
And when it does,
He's so surprised
Like "How the hell did you get all the way to my face?"

Then I, come up to him
Laughing,
And say,
"You met it halfway!"

And run like a *****.

But I'm flat,
And that,
*****.

Like a straw set in a frosty milkshake,
Set between two starry eyed lovebirds,
And as they are about to indulge in the yumminess
Of the creamy bounty before them,
The eye of the guy,
Catches the sight of the girl,
Who's not sitting in front of him,
Passing on the by,
Catching his eye,
And his girl is soon by his side,
With a look on her face,
That could stop a race,
Dead in it's place,
For the fear of the world coming apart at the seems,
And he, knows, it.

She knows what he thought
When he saw what he saw,
And when he stuttered and sputtered,
She had heard it all,
Just not in so many words,
So much for these lovebirds.

She said what she felt,
He heard every word,
Then she turned and sped out,
He went quickly after,
And every one heard what he tried to shout.
And bursted into tears,
At the humor that was there,
Far less did his attempts,
Even try to fare.

It was told through the day,
From ear to ear,
"You had to be there"
They said with tears.

"But baby wait,
This is too much,
Come on, let's go back,
Our milkshake hasn't even been touched!"

And guess what?
I feel like that straw,
Feeling so lonely,
Nerves getting raw,
Listening to the fight,
Knowing this ain't right,
I should be cold,
But with the heat of lips,
Caught between sweet nothings,
And sweeter sips.

So you see,
What I see?
Feel,
What I felt?
How it just stood there,
While the milkshake,
It melt.
Leaving it in a puddle,
No one would drink,
And being wasted like that,
Poured down the sink.

Makes you think.
That,
It must be horrible,
To be,
Flat.

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
    Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
    Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
    Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
    Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
    Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
    Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

That brief moment with you,
was more than I could have hoped for.
To feel your touch, to see your smile,
to dance in the glitter of your eyes -
I will remember that day together, always.
But now, I must let you go, off to chase
the one who makes you happy.
You've found your wings, sweet spirit
and though I wanted to soar with you,
I am not free to do so.
O the sadness of clipped wings,
forever grounded, tamed, a caged bird.
Do not mistake these tears I shed
as regret or loss, but joy...
Joy that you've taken flight, left behind
the old worn-out past and found
a new beginning.

When the sun is on your face
And the wind is at your back
While the day is starting fresh
And there is nothing that you lack
Take advantage of the day
Be bold in brave attack
Of every problem that you face
Even as they mount and stack
And if the sunlight goes away
And the skies turn dark and black
And the winds have turned upon you
And the lightning starts to crack
Stand your ground and simply say
The day is mine and I will not be dismayed

I Sleep next to dreams
as lofty words on wasted reams
a miss used time
or ends to means
this mush of patience
restrains to sin
through will of mind
contained within
lay that to waste
what aspires to be
oh hidden fate
in elegancey
I close mine eyes
withhold thy needs
care not to cause
few misread deeds
whom only lead to spiteful seeds

Moon beams wane
and dissipate cross frosty panes
a gauge of time
ticked off by rain
this music made sweet serenade
a leitmotif of dreams past played

on morning comes & brings the sun
the brightest star
of Apollo's hour
and Ea's desire
though all I aspire
this union of fire
of earth well worth we wait within
deep sleep and reap our body's heat
oh perfect form
thoughts while I gaze
attention divided
open field fed by maze

-2006

Remember how it used to be,
when we would go outside,
and hang out with folks in person?
But now we stay inside.

We used to write each other letters,
with paper, pen and ink.
Once delivered you would read it,
then write back with what you think.

And remember in the old days,
when you could just be "out"?
And things could wait for your return,
there was never any doubt.

But now if we're unreachable,
then something must be wrong.
'Cos everything is urgent,
our time to us does not belong.

Well I don't know bout the rest of you,
but I miss the olden days.
They used to be less stressful,
better in many ways.

So I think I'll turn my cellphone off,
and shut my Facebook down.
Write letters to those friends of mine
who don't live in this town

But I think my plan might hit a snag
there's something that I lack
I don't know where these people live
and they probl'y wont write back

So I guess I have a choice to make
tell me, what would you do?
Would you give your address to me,
so I could write to you?

I pretended to love you
It is what I was taught.

Don't show your emotions
keep them bottled up inside.

I could never have loved you.
Anymore than you could have loved me.

We were both lying to ourselves.
Playing house, because the real word
is such a scary place.

Neither one of us was prepared for reality,
so we made our own, and oh how we failed miserably.

eyes locked and i knew
i have always needed you
my heart knows its true