Their eyes were so bright,
The whites of it dancing
Like the moon in the night,
Alive, as they stood there,
Crouching.

The oppressive evening
Brought a cave of shadows,
Heavy footsteps leaning
Towards a hallway bare,
Or so deceiving.

They carried themselves
With a regal air,
Their sunburnt fingers—deft,
Clutching their scabbards,
And in them,

Mops.

If we
Stepped back far enough,
I bet we could
Fit the Earth
In the far corners of our hand.

If we measured
The heavens just right,
And picked out the exact
Magnitudes, I bet you
We could do it.

Because I know.
Whether we know it or not
The distance between
Our hearts
And the very center
Of the universe
Isn't all that far.

We just
Have to find the right
Measuring tool for it,
And no,
The telescopes,
It won't do this time.

The galaxy we are shooting for,
It exists only
On the pinpricks of our fingers.
Its standard unit
Is that of closeness and
Of vast quiet.

I'll show you.

On the count of three,
I want us both to close our eyes
And whisper.

1...
2...
3.

See there?
There is home.
And you hold it
In my palms.

Row stubborn, Lord,
Row stubborn,

Resist the violent
Crashing of the waves—

Sleep, savior,
Sleep, and do not wake,
For wake means winning,
And the devil is in the details.

Do not fret,
For dear, you are never one to.
Please, stay true to
The full moon that draped you
In the tomb,

The stars that lit your path
As you made your way
To Golgotha
And back,

The stars that light
My darkness,
Today, as I find myself
Barefoot
For the first time,
Unsure how
To move about in this
Velveteen black—

A lot of glittering,
Glass, perhaps, gold,
God, I know

This rawness in my heart
Is sensitive and
Incredibly quick to chaff
But row stubborn Lord,
Row stubborn.

My journey has only begun

There’s serenity here
Words have no meaning
Everyone’s speechless
Surprised with the calmness
Clarity of inner calling
Voices never heard before
All the time there
Yet, oblivious, all this while
Narrating the inner story
From the core
What we are capable of
Living half the life
Now, the other half comes forth

Day
Crisscrosses
With night,

Somehow manages
To touch the other's hand
Even if
One is allergic
To the heat
And the other,
A fear of the dark.

There's a striking
Balance in the
Muted gray
Of the groggy sky—
A scenery
Not very much unlike
That
Of a slumbering owl
And a waking wren,

One creature
In cahoots
With the darkness
And the other
Perhaps too
With light.

Both,
Sing very
Different songs—yet
Both
Seem to arrive
At the same purpose:

Which is to see
What the other
Really is made of
Beyond the light
And shroud—

Touch maybe even
Forbidden wings and
Quietly
Sing some more;

In this habitat
Of shadows
They—we—will not be bothered.

So sing, wren,
Your truest of songs:

"Good morning,
"Good morning,
"The day is
"But coming,"

So sing, owl,
Your truest of songs:

"Good evening,
"Good evening,
"The night is
"But leaving."

And so now kiss, night,
The plodding day.

Darling,
I need you
for the balance 
of my life

Love is a bonafide transaction
Very likely with malafide intentions

There are those with whom
We are only meant to share
Silence.
He, a single bead of dew,
Aged well, yet threadbare,

Clung to the cat tongue edge of a
Green blade of grass.
She, a daughter among the olive trees
The olive in her palm
cured by the bottom of his glass.

We are all to become done
And what’s done
Is done, but
its purpose
has not passed.

Each a …hair
Fell from the head
'tis silence falling
that wakes one from dreams,
instead.

These men "gone missing
From lost souls
Kissing"
Have been found
By authorities,

Beckoned from behind the veil
So they came along
Quietly, quietly
Love thirsting, flesh
and frail.

“Your soul is but a diamonds shine”
Smiled the sage,
“Abandoned by youth,
lost in dunes
And found
In the sands by age.”

let's blow people's minds
make their heart tremble
hot breath spurling through cool air.
Let's be an indie movie
where we're unique and new
and inventive,
and sit in obscure places
wearing tattered clothing
styling our obscene hair
discussing our rocketed adventures
and disjumbled but inspirational and boggling
views on life, the universe, and everything.
Let's put them together in careful lines
and send them out to the world
so that those who read it
may call us poets.