The days blend seamlessly into one another,
Like dusk til dawn exists
In the blink of some cosmic eye,
Dazed but not blinded
By the dapple pattern of the stars
Against the interstellar void.

The days fly endlessly by,
Like leaves being blown away
On some strange autumn wind,
Destined to go
Places where I’m not.

The days never end,
Until they do,
Like some starcraft distant
In both space and time,
Finding the edge of the universe
And falling over it.

The vast emptiness of space,
And the passage of time,
The void between an atom’s nucleus
And her orbiting particles,
The fact that we are made of elements
Forged in dying stars,
And, not to be forgotten,
The perplexing reality
That we are little more than empty space
Floating on a green and blue island
That somehow beat trillion-to-one odds
In a lifeless, desert void
Where the shadow-signals of our loneliness
Carve brave new trails through the darkness,
Only to fizzle out
And die like a match struck
In a lightless room,
There one second;
Gone the next.

“Walk on water, it’ll be all right,”*
She says to me,
And I know I’ve found either God
Or His adversary,
Fifty-fifty shot either way,
And the odds are my favour,
Fifty one-forty nine,
Perhaps,
And here, now,
In the open ocean,
On the edge of the raft,
Standing spread-armed and close-eyed
On the ledge of some great precipice,
I take a leap
Of faith.

Summer fling,
Don’t mean a thing;
I was made in the ‘hood,
Reborn and resurrected
In the parts they like to call Hell.

One night stands
Drunken regrets;
When you wake up I’ll be gone
And in my place
Will be a note sealed with a kiss
And a promise broken before it was made.

Everything is defined
As something I let slip through my fingers,
Like sand in an hourglass,
Because the moment a dream comes true
The clock is ticking,
The race is on,
And I’m running after you
Like some strange lost girl
Chasing the stars in your eyes,
But there comes a time
When everything is written in the dictionary
As ‘too good to be true’
And the stars in your eyes fade
To nothingness
While you reveal yourself
As the beast hidden in his pretense of beauty,
And I realize I’ve been tricked yet again
Only to look down
To find my hands empty
Of the dream I always knew
Was going to fly away
No matter how tight I held on.

Someone please show me
Where the ‘good’ in goodbye
Comes in;
Is it through the side door,
Or does it break in
Like a thief in the night?

Someone please tell me
When the ‘good’ in goodbye
Shows up,
Because it’s been late coming
And my patience
Is wearing thin.

Someone please answer me
Why the ‘good’ in goodbye
Never arrives,
Not through the side,
Nor through the window,
Not late, not ever.

Someone please teach me
How the ‘good’ in goodbye
Came to be;
Or is it just some forlorn, desperate hope
That the ‘good’ in goodbye
Can drown out the thundering sorrows of our farewells?

What’s broken here,
I think,
Is not my poetry
Nor my prose,
Not honesty
But rather courage and cowardice,
And the fine lines we draw
In the sand between them,
Nightly as the tide comes to wash away our work,
Yet daily we are left
Standing in the wrong –
Too far to the left,
Too much to the right,
Sometimes missing the mark entirely –
Me and my broken English,
You and your broken heart,
And both of us left here wondering,
Out of all the words
In all the languages
In all the world,
Why is it so hard to find the ones to say:
“I love you?”