The sky, a plate
in kindly blue,
smooth
as the ceramic face
of this, my swimming pool;

the bobbing palm
glazing the back
of my starfish shape
like white liquid icing;

sweet, the water's after-taste;
gently
pungent smell lodged
in the nape of my neck

I will wash the blue
off my skin, in a tiled doll-box
cubicle
I will smell the smell fade
out of my fizzled wet-strung hair
just as sugar dissipates
into the hot
nothingness of drinks.

I will pretend to forget,
then forget
I was offered a plate
in a summery shade, bordered by
tree branches
I was in that half
amniotic vessel -
weightless

as a seed pearl in
an ocean or a lover
exhaling in the depths
of a kiss;

a posy of
air on liquid.

A satin and reedy melody is sweeping across the soundscape and painting my world in
Traditional and elegant blacks and whites,
Sables, indigo moods, and orange skies.

To read or watch movies, that is the question.
When tired at workday's end, depressed about death's
certainty and my recent surgery
unable to contribute purpose
i.e., figure out whether to bomb Iran
or worship Krshna
and other gods such as Homer gives us in the Iliad
I lack vision therefore I choose television.
Chemistry text, bifurcated plant key
esp. grasses, intro to calculus, physics
unopened time slides by inexorably.
That's the dilemma with no resolution,
drooping rachis, striations on the lemma.
Dying chooses you. You don't choose dying.
So go slow as the day will allow.
The cancer patient's real work is facing
harsh realities and making adjustments:
getting the most out of life, considering
what his children will need after he's gone,
preparing his wife, parents, colleagues and friends,
and completing important professional tasks.
Get the most out of life. That's all God asks.
In Life of Pi the tiger is tiresome, short-sighted
eating everything in sight today, no plan for tomorrow.
The boy, however, is beautiful, reading
the lifeboat manual, building a resting place on the ocean
from oars and life vests, writing about his emotions,
loneliness and observations. The tiger's obsession
with killing keeps our boy alive with fear,
an aphrodisiac, a distraction from any hint
of hopelessness. And then there is the ultimate unknown,
the boy's conversations with Krshna which explain
the innumerable stars and their gentle glow.

Met you the day I thought I'd die
You cured my ******* January blues
After losing all I had to lose
I called you knowing loneliness poison

Intending to one night stand
You up

Late night mellow rock and
Balcony smokes in ice age Michigan
Bodies moving like snowflakes
Tears melting like liberated ice
My old world fading like a faraway pebble's wakes
My love becoming so loud I couldn't hear a word again

In silence I heard violins
An invisible orchestra playing to
The life I thought I was conducting

Too late did I learn
I was merely another violin
There for you to play
And without you pulling at my heartstrings
I would fall out of tune
And into disrepair

i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
"uh oh, ****"
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
  1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"
   1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
   1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
   2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says "why don't you joke
about something like your family?"
so i say
"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"
i say "what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"
before he has a chance
to answer
i say "1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"
   2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried

There is a certain absence that echoes when it rains
I can feel it, in the storm of my life
And I can feel your absence as much as the rains'
You, today, I knew you were looking for me
When the bus pulled up and our eyes met
And it was like this chasm between us
Was closing and reopening in turbulent uncertainty
And we smiled at each other but with such sorrow, too
We spoke and laughed and I could almost forget
How terribly imperfect things between us are
I forgive the you that I know no longer lingers
I ask you forgive yourself, achieve inner peace
If we could escape to other lives and exist together
recreating ourselves far from judging eyes, I would
I would ignore the scolding of my mother
And the wrath of my friends
They don't know you like I do, don't love you like I did
I don't know if I still love you, or if it is just twin souls
Connecting again in joyous reunion
But I was looking for you, too

A once
same eyes sky
seen through by distance;
a full leaving,
scene by scene,
green by green,
a summer sparkle
losing gleam.