What better place
To keep a
Secret
from
Those
Within
The Light?


I've been through
the shadows
in the
Valley of Darkness

So
I know,

You've been there also.

We live in a world
Wherein
Several of which
Reside,

-this realm
to shelter
the Treasures of
Those
Still,
Hoping,
in their
Transition.

And
While I was there
To uproot the
Despair
I'd stored,
For my
Too stern
Pride's

Veil in Recovery,

I saw yours there
Also,
Your Mane,

-shaved,
Leo,

Attached
to a
Sliver-cracked
Ego,

Hidden
Amongst both
The
Gems of a gypsy
Glowing
in the dark,

Winking
Smiles
At my
Treks,

In
&
Out,

The
Crumbling treasures
Of
the tragic,
Troubled
Someones,
Nearly
Forgotten

in their
Trying Tribulations.

Shadows
a desperate
Shelter
from
the
Thoughtless
Impunities
Sometimes
Rampant

In
The Light.  

The Darkness is
Dark
In that,
It enabled,
Evades
what
Light does
Simply
by
Nature.

And
I saw,

You saw this
Too.

--

Once upon a time,

Without the
Spots of
Darkness,
That we
All
Have
Stolen away
To,

To let out
Free
Your soul,
To just

Be,

On our way
To seeing

What's
Needed.

Without the
Soft Cloak
of the
Shadows,

My blood,

We,
The Imperfect
Become
We,
The Vulnerable.

--

I saw a soldier's
Heart's longing,
Becoming
Worn
by a
Chafing
Of a
Strong, strong
Courage

A young girl's
Freedom
Too tightly
Gripping
Like thorns
Sweet Yearnings
for

A Love,
Truly
Everlasting.
--
Not all wielders
Of Light
Are servants of Light.
Some use Light
For
Their own
Devices.

So
by Cause,

Weak or strong,
Pain fresh
Or long,

We all
Have been acquainted
With

The Darkness.

you're an anagram in my heart
and i don't care

as long as
you love me
tomorrow,

you ******.

i still got a glass full of wine
and a bundle of hope
towards
Marley's flames
being
just
hot enough

to
light
your ***
on fire.

and if that don't bring you
back to life

looks like
Merlot & I
are enjoying
a night
on the town.

who's rockin' the **** boat
this time around?

don't care.

i'm lost in the waves
of you rockin' my ocean -

causing that
commotion
of devotion
that i love so much -

the way you
harvest the flow
and demand
its cresting
is the rest
of why
i'll even be back
in the morning.

we got that
ebb & flow
action
reaction -
fantastic

then ****.
the split -
again?

shh...baby, be quiet

you know you love me
more than
any *******
either of us could
ever
dream to concoct.

so just tear it up
like i know you want to -

all that *******,
i mean.


unless.

you mean.

otherwise...?


i'm your fancy baby
waiting at the center of the night

to
bang around
town

or in bed
instead

wherever your head's
at daddy,

i'm there.

the timing's always right
this time -

i promise.

so let's endeavor
to do this
together
forever

or
whenever
comes after
that.

I've cast my spell on you.
I've cast my spell, so hard you can't stand it.
I've cast my spell on you, from afar.

And, you have no choice but to give in.*

--

"Is this wrong?"
I sidelongingly asked myself.

"Only if you believe it to be so,"
I said.

There is no light at the tunnel’s end—
Only dented cans and newspapers,
Amid discarded butts of dissatisfaction,
Strewn across broken pieces of gravel.

Empty bottles and empty hearts
Play wrestle games throughout the night—

What am I really doing here?
Who led me down this dark alley?
This alley so deceitfully painted in colours,
That, before, were all so lovely.

I’ve given up the daffodils
For chalkdust and white paper.
I’ve thrown away my careful bag,
But, now I want it back.

I want my heart to smile again.
I want myself to return.
But, this heart and this soul,
So sweet but alone
Are absent and i’ve no clue where they’ve gone.

*06.2011

Sometimes, I cradle Sir Moon in my arms,
And half-whisper him to sleep.

I haven't seen that man in his own,
For too long.
So, when he's blue,
We nap together.

Sometimes, the moon melts,
Into puddles on lakes,
And ripples out into forever.
Hadn't smelled a ripple,
Until that very first night.

Smells like ink would - I think
Were the ink frozen.

But, every so often,
The moon is fine,
Full, after its harvest of,
The month's reverb.
And, on that night,
Is when I dance in full-flight,

Crazy, in the moon's elixir.

---

The night makes us mad.
The moon makes us loony.

Perhaps, that explains a lot.

How do you make your triangular squares,
Spin into yellow circles?

First they were blue,
And, before I knew,
It, they were fading into pinks,
Unglued.

I've tussled with logic,
Inside of my pocket,
Picking you slowly apart.

Now, I've given in,
That's it - You win.

Poetic - Your soul is an art.

Toward thinking - thinking toward that newer stuff.

Implicating a newer truth -
More meaning more than ever what meant before.

[Enter eternity]

Dry unveilings found me dripping and drowning,
Ogling the ones who did it better.

Enlightenment, apparently, doesn't come with instructions -
Sorry, Timmy - do catch me when I'm wiser.

Nit pick my tendencies to
Overcome the dumb junk -
Trippin' about all of the dirt that's piled up on my dirt, already.

Each moment that caters to forgotten smiles,
X's out all of the  good times I could've spent passin' the conch shell with somethin' to say - Ha.

I'm itching to perform a miracle.

Settling for truths spilled from frigid lips just ain't my cup of tea -
Thank God.

--

Everything is happening now.
Exhale.

It might have been
the
old lasagna
that reminded me
I was happy -

at last.

In the time when,
     A simple toy with bright lights was enough to amuse me,
     An hour in the bath tub was a day of high-adventure,
     An extra cookie, from the cookie jar, made me feel like something special.
    
     In the time when a nap with mom, in the crook of her arm,
     Was the high point of my day.

During the years that,
     The darkness behind my lids squeezed shut was, somehow, brighter than the darkness around me,
     Mr. Teddy snuggled so tight in my arms gave me a sense of impenetrable protection,
     Drawing my feet way up from the edge of my bed assured me that I would not be dragged away.

     During the years that warm milk and a lullaby were my gold ticket to a peaceful night of sleep.

That era is over.

This year,
     Darkness is darkness, such is the peril that lives within it.
     My once precious Mr. teddy has found a new home, in the back of my dark closet.
     My feet dangle carelessly, over that dreadful edge, after all, drawing them up is pointless.

     This year, warm milk makes my stomach turn,
     And, it takes more than a lullaby to drop my heavy lids.

This time around,
     It's the neon lights of the midnight town that send thrilling shivers up my spine.
     I've traded the great splashes and dunks of bath time for flickering candles and violins.
     An extra treat is a starry-eyed dream, for fear of the guilt to follow.

     A chat with mother is work enough.
     This time, I nap alone.

---

I pray for the minutes,
I counted, until,
I heard dad's keys singing in the lock.

I want for the days,
When I'd anger a toe,
And think my world was falling apart.

I dream of the years,
When I'd be hurt by a friend,
And, the next day, share cupcakes over tea.

I wish for the time,
When everything was simple,
And problems were solved with sweets.

---

Maybe, I could pull Mr. Teddy from my closet's corner,
Warm up a nice, big cup of milk,
Draw up my feet, from the bed's cold edge,
And learn to revel in the darkness around me.

07.2008

You're a crazy person,

with your backwards
feet
that keep
finding their lost way
to

me -

an iron-wrought
Stubbornist
with morals
galore,
full of

delightfully
annoying
complexes.

You're genuinely
insane
the way you
brush off your pain
and slide your
arms
around me
anyway,

or

how you
ridiculously
forget
the soft spot
i hit
by the time
the silence
takes over.

One look in
your eyes,

the sound of
your sighs,

the signs,
my love,
are there.

You're a crazy person,
indeed,
to say that you
need

a person
like me

to love.

Halfway through yesterday are the words I forgot,
To stash inside your closet.

Lost hallelujahs for your too charming smile,
Halt, just shy of, "In a minute!"

You would like those thoughts -
Those full, careless thoughts -
Forever slipping into,
Politeness.

The too-telling giggles,
Hidden in slick eyes,
And smuggled in,
Feigned aloofness.

Meet me at your mind's found corner,
In its lipstick and hot-combed hair.

We'll share some words,
That we've never heard,

That will sneak us off to whenever.

Who knew,

The girl who had
No voice
Would
One day
Teach the world to
Sing
?

To banish their
Bashful
And beam forth
In beauty,

To learn to
Simply
Just Sing
?

A time ago
Her soft
"Hello" was
Lost
Within
Translation
.

But now?
Oh, now!

With no care
To how,

That caterpillar

Has
Found
Her wings
.

Daddy asked me one muggy day,
If I wanted to ride the ell again.

My attention caught the swings, for a bit,
Before turning to him and saying,

“I ain’t goin’ back to the city, Daddy,
To see Jerry or nobody,

‘Cause the city snatches my breath away,
And not in the sweet way neither.

The buildings make me feel so lost,
And, I’m lost ‘nough, as it is.

The people tell me my smile’s too warm,
For a place that eats up chills.

Can’t I stay here in your lap, forever,
And pretend to be unaware?

Listenin’ to talk of crime afar,
Glad that we’re not there?”

Daddy held my hand and stroked my hair,
‘Til it seemed as if hours flew by.

Then, he kissed, so softly, my frizzy hair,
And said, “At some point, you need to fly.”

You feed me jewels of golden grapes,
With your lips’ sweet verbal confections.
You warm my heart with your godlike smile,
A source of our connection.
Peer into these orbs of glass,
And gaze into my soul.
Know that you, without a doubt,
Are the one I long to hold.
You douse my heart in smiling things,
You paint glowing across my face,
And, in between your enchanted fingers,
My own ones find their place.

I’ve never fallen quite so fast,
Or cared so much so soon,
But your whispered words and slight, sweet touch,
Spiral me to the moon.

I can hardly say for sure it’s love,
For, I’ve never found love so true,
But if you ever chance to fall,
I’m falling in behind you.

*07.2009

Ain't a soul of us, without dark spots.*

Not lacking
In don't's
That have been done,

In rues
Of arson -
Like
Matters

That, simply,
Will not go
Away.

--

Today,
I asked
A sweet birdy -

Just once-

If he would
Sing
'Til my
Dumb heavings
Shut up.

To hear how I
So needed
Him to say
Something beaming -

Something
That would melt ice
That had begun
Its branding -  

Ignorant,
It went on,
Pecking rocks
At my toes.

So, I stapled
My bad day
To its back.

Head hot, in
Black heat,
Quick,
Shufflings of feet,
Sent the birdy
On its
Forced agenda.

Then, I saw
That sweet birdy
Get snatched,
By a beast

Thrice rabid,

On its way
To attempt such a feat.

Dry sickles
Burned my throat -
Some ugly and sad -

With broad cries
That never met
Words.

Though,

The sickles rose far,
Burned that ice
Into scars -

So, I guess,
The bird did away
With my blizzard.

i am singing soft pinks,
after my too bold reds;

i mean,
maybe, my great, round bursts of
clumsy heart
didn't bruise as sweetly
as i'd hoped.

i haven't a thing against
climbing to middleground;

my lips are left
less chapped.

--

I am a
yet, wild queen -
learned-head bowed
low.

heart lifted

-in anticipatory gusts
of questions,
peppered with thanks,
for the inner knowing,
melding into my all-

to the heavens, above,
lifting up fervent
pleas and blessings:

thanks, for the continuing cycle
that continued
long enough
for me to believe
and is continuing,
even still -

this was something
different.

not singing after?
but, softening to?

this feels much,
much more like home.

Fancy cameras and tennis nets,
Corridors so long and winding -

Remind me why we’ve gone so far,
From our time spent lost and searching.

*Regret felt prematurely is regret potentially avoided.
06.2011

let's talk about love
and how it ***** your **** up
while you sip on its elixir
like it's doing
the most
wonderful thing in
the world
for you -

how it thrusts you
into the darkest places
you've ever known
to feel **** you
really feel

but
not
really
at all -

let's talk about how
beautiful it makes the world
when it does you
right
and how dark it can get
so fast -

or

how it can put
your entire
life
on fast
forward
or
set it on
a blissful
pause
or
bring it
to a
screeching--

STOP.

i've gotten my hands
plenty *****
in this game -
thinkin' i wouldn't
need gloves
to play

but
****'s dirtier than money
though
sweeter than honey...

so i sip
once more -

in lieu of
the learned
and because
of
the learned -

i'm downin' that elixir
until i'm ****** over
silly
because what
has been
learned
has been
learned
hard
& good:

drunken love
is the
only way
to love.

There are bumble bees around the corner,
Waiting to land on the tip of your nose.
Thick, flower nectar, dripping from above them,
Fated, to catch you in your, "Hello."

When the beaming sun beams,
We say lovely things,
And spread them about,
For those near,

To feel it within,
To take part in -

To share it with those
Who will hear.

When the sun disappears,
The moon's light rears,
Sprinkling taboo gems about,

For us to tiptoe and choose,
To place in a ruse,
Of words to enjoy during, Lights Out.

Neither a shortage of daisies,
To pluck from this field,
Nor, unwelcoming nuances met,

Only waves of inspiration,
Covered in chosen sensation,

An oasis for the itching poet.

I know the door you're
Speaking of,

And you're right.
It is
Shut -

Firmly
Tight.


Love seeps through,
Overtaking my view,
Breathing promises
of
No looks back.

While

Red emotion
Slips through,
Obscuring my view,
With such ease,
Spilling
Right through the
Cracks.


I feel gusts of
You,
Whisping bits of me to

The spaces you wish
We'd go -

Though it's the
Heavier parts
That can't quite start

Flying -

Afraid
Of the
Multiplous

Ways to go.

--

It's Me

That gets
Left behind.

Pretty little birdy,
Why won't you sing?
Is not the sun's warmth,
A comfort to your wings?
Have not, you flown,
In the untouched breeze,
Beside gales that dance,
Above the crowns of grand trees?
So small and delicate,
Yet, majestic and strong,
Why won't you share,
Your enchanting, sweet song?
Are not, you free,
From the iron of mankind,
From wounds of deceit,
That arrest and that bind?
Do not, you see life,
Through films of purity,
Peering through the mass of lies,
Into the heart of me?
What creature so harsh,
So greatly incomplete,
Would rob nature of its voice,
And, life of its beat?

Pretty, little birdy,
My life needs your melody.
Make my eyes smile once more.
Please, won't you sing for me?

*04.2008

She sat
A broken China doll
Spurting
Where she meant to
Sing.

Hold her hand
Bite your tongue
And
Remind her
That you're
Hers.

Shards and candlewax,
ache in my belly,

I am
lost in the looks
of the
transient.

the jolly painter came to visit, one day.
he painted smileys upon the walls of my house -

then another and another,
and another until
i was forced
to spread my smileys
about.

now, were they merited -
these radiant
marvelous things -
marking my walls with
their swelling brilliance

or were they,
simply,
of Karma's duty -

blossoms flowering,
just as they should?

whichever, however,
whenever, whatever,
i'm not quite sure
but i like the allure

they bring
strength to my stem
and quiet the mayhem,
i live in,

so i think,
my dear,
i shall take them.

Elusive lulls of lucidity linger,
slightly, in my
retrospection-

behind thick, thick sprawls
of stones for walls, built to
defend what I felt, then
most relevant.

Once at escape,

I meet, at random,
apace
tangents
that spin
me gently into

Light,

wherein I sigh
at ease, slow-
ly breathing
in the peace flowing
abundant,

amid
Tranquility.

Lucidity's quite funny, in that
when precious to one,
proves slippery, and when gotten,
too foreign,

to keep lucid, in a state
that, without light, is
forsaken,
to the ever-
turn of

Chasing the Light.

Languid speech of sallow souls
Open your hearts & speak!

*06.2011

screamin' red
snowball hat
clashin' so
loudly
with my
fall of
that year's
new
hand-me-over
jeans.

my bike was fast.

silver metal
peekin' out
from beneath
the
shimmering white
& pink
chipping
paint job
my uncle
had given me
when
baby & i'd
turned 7.

it was sleek
i was meek -

good riddance.

again,

i will bury
your
honeyed
words
down, deep
in between
my *******,

humming loudly
above reason,
muffled by
passion-

by love,
my love-

don't waste me.

my pearly eyes
and heaving chest
are
truths i keep
meaning
to share

but
you harvest
so often
the honey
seeds
you sow

give them time
my love

don't waste me.

i'm your
darling dear
with fluttering
fingers
grabbing at
your hand

to
stay afloat
in this
teeny boat
made

perfectly,

a la
Us.

"I wish I wasn't obsessed with words,"
He says.

"Oh, me too!
… except, not really,"
I reply.

"You see, I have kinda, sorta, possibly, maybe,
(Completely and so very utterly)
Developed this odd sort of weird little “thing” for words.

Words, for me, are kinda like that guy that drives you up the walls -
You’re crazy about him.

He’s in every thought that creeps into your mind.

Every move he makes,
You want to pop into your mouth
And roll around for a bit,
Because you know it must taste somethin’ delicious.

But, you can’t **** on it too hard,
Because you want it to melt
So, so very slowly,
As to not disappear too quickly.

He’s that guy that does you somethin’ silly!

Makes you smile so hard
And do things with your body
That make absolutely no sense -

But, only because he makes you feel so good
That you haven’t a danglin' clue
On what to do with yourself.

He’s that guy that makes you,
Every once in awhile,
Lose sight of things important.

That guy that’s not altogether good for you,
But, you simply can not get enough.

--

So, I mean, yeah.
Sometimes, logic says,

If you’d just break up with words,
You could get a whole bunch more of your junk done,
Rather than dwelling on every single thing he does.

But, my heart,
Trusting my logic,
Replies, adamantly, saying,

*Yah - but, I don’t think I can.

i'm living in the gist
of a
cold shiver,

wondering,
"what, why, and for how long?"

is it really for forever,
as the burning
insisted
before?

or is the tyrannous void,
in some muscle somewhere,
the truth
i should
remember?

count your blessings,
you foolish girl.

diamonds aren't always
found
on this ruff side of
town.

--

solar eclipse,
lunar harvest,
my soul is ripened
for the
taking.

I, sometimes, think of,
All of the people,
Who could answer,
"Is there life after death?"

I get jealous, because,
There, once, were some,
Who - now -
Have such an answer.

But, then I remember those people are dead,
And, how that may actually ****.

I've heard the moon whisper,
On several occasions -
Stories and things,
That tell what life will bring,

And what to bring to it.

At dusk, the moon laughs,
With me, in the garden-
We hold hands,
And share our secrets.

The moon tells me who,
I should cling to,
And, I, how the clinging did fare.

We kiss and run after,
The stars - though, I'm shackled to,
The earth, with too much to care,
For.

And, this bit of line,
Here,
Tells me why your heart’s
Achings pour out
So thickly
In your sighs-

Why you paint on
Boisterous smiles,
To draw away from
Your telling eyes.

My fingertips feeling,

The way the bowl dips,
Deeply,
Full of somethings
Too heavy,
Find the reasons
You can’t fall prey
To those who don't say,
But reveal,

With rottenly
Itching fingers,

&

Why I can't do away with
Those maddening strokes,
That have melted into
Cracks in marble.

You've so many
Drooping wilts,
On a wiltingly drooping line,

Dripping
Downward
In their gentle slopes,

Reminding me
To be gentle
In the way that I
Love you
In ashen days.

Though,

These three little x's,
Snickering beneath your bowl,
Tell me,

You've probably been
Reading me,
In opaquely mirrored ways,

Peering from your bowl,
All along.

i keep peeking around
these curling corners -

dashing away from
the finger-waggers
who blink
only
when i'm not
in this predicament

when i'm not
kissing the sides of this
yellowing frame -
still holding fast
to that
ensnared moment
i've deemed
too late to make
unholy

unabashed and tall
in the courts of
low-faced jurors
who **** their teeth
at my soiled apparel
and glare down
over horn-rimmed
frames

demeaning demeanors
in mean-streak persons
demand dumb perfection
in too black

tattered
robes.

I'm not afraid of the galganaut,
Peering out from his overgrown huddle,
Inside his hole in the brook,
That I once mistook,
For the water faeries',
Hide-n-seek cove.


I won't fall for his,
***** ol' tricks,
And bluffs -
That slick beast,
In his feast, on those,
Deserving, the least -

The slow and naive,
Who believe what they see,
But, refuse to see,
What's there.


That cove has eyes,
If you'd just look inside!
Garish and eating,
Your soul,

Before its looks,
Reel you in,
With its hooks,
Of tin,
That you cradle,
Simply, 'cause
You can.


A victim, no more,
To the galganaut,
And his tendencies,
Toward swift,
Deception.


For, what?
I don't know,
But, to me,
He's no more.


I have whited him from,
My reality.

drip me dry
from all these
carnal cases
of
spiritual
expansion
or
personal growth
or
whatever
whatever
you wanna
call it
this time
you simply
can't hide

the truth.

i'm exasperated-

tell me
what your
truth
sounds like
'cause
i keep on
confusin' it
with
what i call
truth

and, **** ain't
linin' up
right.

deliver us from
evil
in manner
and in
thought -

deliver
me
from
*****
deliveries.

On some day I'd forgotten,
Three winters ago,
I stumbled across,
Room 8.
Courtiers from within,
Beckoned with questionable smiles,
That stabbed at,
Intently,
Curiosity.

Just beyond,
The garnished door,
Lay carpet so lush,
It seemed to,
Glisten,
With its own beads of sweat,
That met,

The never coming ends,
Of rambunctious, silk drapery,
That dripped -
That dripped -
From the ceilings in reds,
So red they wrestled with passion.

And a peek beyond,
I couldn't keep my glimpse,
From pooling onto the,
Glasses,
That quivered.

Panes that gave way,
To silent,
Slain spirits,

Rocking back,
And then forth -

Spirits who had,
Lost,
Their ***** words,
To emotion.

I never cried at your misplaced words
Though, I felt them,
So carefully,
Gnawing
At
My spirit.

My heart only cried wet, dragging words
That loved hard
And too quickly
After
Your wayward self.

Filthy words spilled from your blackened lips,
Telling of your innards.

But, I couldn't let go
That somewhat glow
I kept glimpsing
Before you shut down.

In the moon's attempt at a soothing beck
Is tendence to insatiable hunger,
Pretending, between breaths, I couldn't hear
My own growlings clawing in your thunder.

Teary eyes and hopeful eyes stare down
Frozen and thoughtless, cold eyes,

Until I glance away
With nothing to say,
Ignoring the impending,
Yearning.

i woke up
just some
time ago
when i realized
i just wasn't
doin it right -

i wasn't doin it
at all -

classify sleep.

the time spent
prettyin' up
your lofty wants
in the nestles
of the night

or

the time spent
every day
doin a
whole
lotta
nothin
and probably
thinkin you
weren't

?

sleep.

tha's when
you blind
thinkin you
really
know what
red is

it's when you
stone cold
deaf
and live on
thinkin'

you can
still hear
just as
clear

His Voice.

An addict still has sense,
And if he’s wise,
Still, wisdom -

It is his will
That stands in question.

Sweet, baby's
Breath,

Untainted,
And so pure.

A satin soft
Scent, that sounds
Sweetly
Reminiscent of
How then
Thoughts
Tumbled

Freely

Into the others.

Passively rummaging
Through my old
Collection of Sighs
For all the
Mutely, flickering
Instances in which
I
Catered
Poorly
to the
In between.

As much as I would
Like,
There's no
Teleporting
Through
Life,

There's no
Jumping
From this level
To that.

Instead,
I curl coyly
About,
In the
Slowly sweetening
Nuances
Of
Time

And sleep
Soundly
in

What's to
Come.

I see your wings have sprouted, dear,
And, they’ve lovely colours of every sort.

The greens that meet with shimmering blues,
Golden yellows that rival the sun’s,
Reds that yell from teeny corners,
And oranges where the yellows are done.

But, your colours can’t sing from within that jar,
Muffled so loudly - your song.

Though, I see the notes,
So, I know - I know,
You can’t stay in that jar for long.

*06.2011

Babies are a nuisance.

They require I spend extra time,
Bottling my honesty,
To feed them slowly,
With excessive precaution.

Attention must be paid,
To dribbles on chins,
I must clean up,
When they simply,
Can't keep,

From spitting out bits,
Of it that won't fit,
In their mouths,
So underdeveloped.

I kept saying,
That I was finished.

But, then I'd
Forget
To close the bag,
Before turning my attention
Elsewhere.

Only to
Look back,
Five minutes later,
And notice
The bag still open.


"Hmm..
Well, maybe,
One chip more..."

cynical cindy,
so wary of love,
trying to salvage her independence,

clutching so tightly to her
sense-of-self,
afraid of slipping
away.

"though -
how happy can a girl be, really,
heralding a man?"

silly cindy,
always needing to know.

just give it a chance,
why don't'cha?

I have yet to learn
How to relay my swollen
Thoughts in such a small

I once saw the edge of time flip over,
Into the middle of two days ago.

So, I sat right through it,
Because, I already knew it -

Realized opportunities,
Lost in the cosmos.

--

Just now,

I saw the beginning,
Of time flip over,
Into our section of the universe,

How many years,
Do you think disappeared,
Or doubled,

In this single discourse?

I can see your fingers snatching at the surface,
And, I’m holding out my hand.

I can see your face and your silent screams,
And, I’m waiting, with my arm outstretched.

My feet are planted and my heart is set
To never leave this spot,

Because, I see you flailing & your burbles of wailing,
But, I’ve been placed here to stand and wait.

Stop screaming.
You’re dreaming.
Grab hold.

So tartly particular,
About picking from treats.
Throw them all up -
See which lands at your feet.

*07.2011

Chances are, you'll fly right by,
But, lesser chances arrest me.
The chances in your silence outweigh,
The chances in your hug goodbye.

But, the bigger things and realer things,
Keep bringing me back to you,
To accomplish some things and unravel some things,
On my way to being with you.

Catch me in my swift decent,
Into something so lovingly new.
Take my heart and take my hand,
And, I'll gladly belong to you.

*05.2011