she wants me for her wants
but needs me for nothing.
a women empowered
will only need her own.
so want her for those wants
and need her for nothing.
or you will find yourself
needing more than she can give.
farewell to distance and foreign tongues
fuel spent and money burned
i have missed you dearly
but you are westward bound
i anticipate your arrival
and watch for you
as though you were my hurricane
the sun rose, days before September and
colored the sky in pure pastels,
shaded smooth, clean of imperfection.
i dreamed these colors with you in my arms
while the mist of crashing waves
slightly glistened our sun kissed skin.
i don't mind to dream these things
i enjoy their thoughts
but i don't want you to be a dream for me
i can feel the ocean
and how it keeps
you from me;
make me into water.
so i may evaporate like mist in the august sun,
rising high above our land,
swiftly passing over the active Atlantic ,
to wherever it is you are.
so i may form again
above a Parisian sky
and fall onto your comely lips and say
"j'ai besoin de toi plus près que ça"
the sun sets over London
where the sky is clear
and experiences are new.
time has shifted, GMT +1.
ahead of me,
a future i'm patient to know.
aglow in electric light
you stood before me;
ahead, a future i long to know.
i smell your breathe exhale.
i inhale the mixture of airs.
yours and mine;
and hold this breathe as a memory.
i feel your lips mark this statement
with a clearly perfect cadence,
one which i adore,
as if god and time were in cahoots.
"no more", "that's enough"
i felt your lips speak words, without movement,
which remain so foreign from your tongue.
i smelled your precious air
which has superseded my memory of memories.
your eyes have become my ocean.
your kiss has become my folly in water.
i swim well and fear our earth but
i say now, "more; always. never enough"
when the sun rose with me
the sky appeared and provided
a certain kind of light
illuminating in my mind
those tender moments
i hold so dearly
words no longer serve me
in expressing this fearful thing clearly
my arms must dot the i's
and my toes to cross the t's
my eyes and light will guide me
my mind will place my presence
and show you the direction
my heart decides to take
i want to meet you there
and have you feel my words; truly
the home next to your families
looks just like my grandmothers
the sound of crashing waves
the breeze of a cool atlantic
and the sun kissing your skin
it's easy to sleep with the sand at your feet
and not be sure
if this is just a dream
arugula and watermelon
and the joy in pain
of sunscreen in my eyes
your eyes disappeared into the sky
and the car smelled of running feet
i remembered a dream from long ago
while you were tying your hair
and standing before me against the blue horizon
le tournesol de la beau rivage
was finally real and present
the trees have returned to us
their greatest shadows
so we may lie beneath their limbs
and hold each other close
help me to dissolve
and become a part of you
the morning sun does not rise
back between the marshes on the bay
where colors remain dividing lines of gravity
where the horizon never seems at hand
on land, at a distance,
i can clearly see your vision
features all your own
the blue of your eyes, the curve of your brow
but it's july and we are at a distance.
not of lengths saved for olympians
but i fear the phenomenon of a mirage
heated air swirled 'round
my barefoot toes
the grass sat wet and dull
i heard the birds chirp confused
and my heart fluttered like their wings
tress budded red
only to be frozen
false starts and heart attacks
after the groundhog saw his shadow.
show me behind the curtain
of velvet and sheer
so the obvious can be made so
i see through a prism filled of light
while the colors you carry
stain my eyes in hues
i can't make out whats green or blue
and cats continue to fear me
but my body is tired so i will rest
and hope this is only a dream.
you looked at my basket of plums
and mentioned how much you love
you looked at my lips,
then looked at my eyes, with increasing repetition.
i told you
the memories of moments
i have of you.
but today i say
i want more.
moments to make memories
that i'll tenderly keep of you.
my first sight this morning was a thing I've never seen,
a resting squirrel.
and my thought was,
She will return to me
Just like the shadows of spring;
And I will know her, truly,
Just as the shadows of spring.
If everything was as delicate as a raspberry, the world would be a better place
These three little spoons that
Rest wet in a bowl of soap
remind me of simple beauty
And the things I too often forget.
it was warm and the wind was with me
but the rain on my bell dampened the ring
and you couldn't hear the smile on my face.
this is for all of the cyclists that have tragically died while enjoying one of lifes simple joys.
i know why i'm a drunk
i know why i drink
that first drink always equalizes
sets the world right
the next two, five, or eight
is the chase
towards feeling good.
towards feeling happy.
towards feeling high.
which is why i hate love;
it's like drinking every day; all day.
hoping to never feel the hangover.
it takes work
it's evolution in real time.
but i know if i drink
i can just drink
and be fine.
love is not guaranteed.
especially not if you drink.
gimme your honey that drips with viscosity
from a well crafted wooden spoon
slowly and sweetly
i'll let you cover my body like a tropical shower
and lick myself clean
like the dog that i am.
when someone hands you a rose
it is beautiful in front of your eyes
but place that rose behind your back
to see the beauty you cannot see.
the beauty your heart knows
the beauty your mind desires.
the beauty of that rose handed to you
is a sincere emotional transaction between two people.
he harped poetic
the birds chirped confused
the sun thawed a mossy field
our toes and heels to sink into.
wind of some other horizon swept
to clean my bones of flesh
i could know no more;
this dark of day cannot last.
my cork board pinned full;
holding place the faces lost.
may your new year be full and void of loss.
ensure it's fullness as death ultimately fills our cracks and crevices which we neglect to fill with the saccharine joy of life.
i found myself doing laundry
filling the revolving well of ***** linens
shutting the door and adding detergent
as i was completing this task,
a bell rung.
and i felt complete.
for i knew we no longer share the same fishbowl
even though i sometimes wish you were here.
this electric line of some green and glowing thing
divided the dark limits of forever and the physical now
while i tried to sleep beneath the night
and dream you were somewhere between these places
waiting for me to find my way to where you were
but that's just a romantic thought
which means naught
until our eyes meet
and your presence is skin on skin
i awoke in the early afternoon
and was reminded of the need to bathe;
odors and oils of a slothful human.
i shaved with a dry old razor
so that i could feel each blade-like tug
and slice the shafts of time that grow from my freckled face
i ran the shower warm before entering
because lately i am a cold stone
and do not contain any independent means of heat
i laid myself beneath the running water like warming raindrops
and heard some loud but distant music
as my thoughts raced above their melancholy sound
my thoughts were noble and ignorant; dualistic.
concerned with the world and my impact upon it.
refusing to buy a car, refusing deodorant and plastic products
i found myself hopeful for once
warm and joyous
as the water wasted itself past my skin and down the drain.
then I remembered that each passing drop equals a single footstep
which builds to the distance required
for others to gather a quarter of my waste.
back to square one
slothful and smelly
needing so dearly to wake.
our nature; nature,
mining its rivers
and agricultural cooperatives.
living from day to day,
becoming refugees once more.
there are four grapefruits and three lemons
that gathered themselves neatly in my kitchen
and took their places comfortably in a bowl on my counter,
patiently waiting for the day i peel them.
there is a stack of plates with shallow slopes
that toppled on top of one another in my cabinet
and rest still like hardened clay does.
laying anxiously for juice from food to spill atop their finish.
there is a man with two arms and legs, 10 digits on both pairs,
that loves a woman of the same kind,
and he sits alone on a couch, far away from her,
wondering why he doesn't use his arms and legs
to grasp her in the hold of those 20 digits.
i am a mind with a body
and everything is at hand.
i will be a body; nothing more,
and everything will surround me.
i will be everything,
and everything will be me.
show me careful construction
and the time it takes
to shape these surely joints
of this thing we're building together.
i'll reveal the careless destruction
and the childish naiveté
of those that have not loved like this
and the lessons left for learning.
what was that sentence you gave me?
I woke and could recall;
but walk some steps down and I forget.
It had weight like those heavy dreams often do.
really though, it was just a sentence my mind spit out,
mere seconds before my eyes would open,
to see the world as it is;
not as I dreamed it would be.
i've played my cards with the hand i was dealt
and it always comes up short in the end.
but i don't care too much about winning or loosing
i've grown to love watching how others play
and reminding them while i deal their fresh hand
that this is a very stupid ******* game we're playing.
keep your poker face.
i don't need to know your tell
to know the lie you live.
it was just past midday,
between the hour of 12 and 1,
when i laid outside in my aged underwear
and enjoyed one of those wakeful stretches
which feels more like a spasm,
atop the fallen wet leaves and still green grass
when a sun-shower shone and washed away
all my lingering summer thoughts.
that's when the mailman approached my mailbox
with that wave like hum of low gear driving,
delivering pulpy reminders of todays date in the real world
and the actual passage of time.
we've acquired an army of elephants
and this room we've built
remains entirely too small.
i'm tired of living in this zoo with you,
cause it smells like domesticated ****
and i need the open air and space.
being and not being,
siting and laying there in front of me
the reflection which jumps into my eyes
with a matted finish portraying its age
of being and not being.
I saw you sitting atop your sprinkled leaves
where you stayed perched to pass the day
but when the gentle wind blew a breeze
you turned to run away.
I do not fear those things; no longer.
I will not hide from the face of the unknowing.
in the puddle beneath the pear tree
I watched the galaxy weave its web
and my fingers could tug it's strings,
like a pianist at the keys,
tugging at infinite light and sound
pulling me closer to this eternal truth.
guiding me through the endless paths
and showing me the difference
and rabbit holes,
folding into folds,
unfolding into new,
you whispered in the night, "i'm here".
but I couldn't find you in the sunrise
or in the field I cleared for you.
I've got you another name
but the moon is waxing towards new
and I won't have much light to see your shape
so have the chorus hum some softer sounds
while I lay my head on the overgrown ground
searching the skies for the letters I need.
it shouldn't take long, few hours at most,
but I need time to shed these invisible clothes;
to strip myself clean from these things I don't need.
I've found that other place
but I don't know if I can stay
your name was there, but something had changed
and you couldn't convince me there was any other way
this wouldn't be the first, shall not be the last,
but you gave me water and watched me grow
so ill find you anew
where i won't know your call
but my ears will, even if my mind cant
my bed rests in my sisters old room
and some pictures of her friends remain.
my duvet is stitched from hands and machine
of the woman i forgot to love.
i can't even begin to describe the truth.
the sheets underneath were bought by
the girl that ****** me best
but the lady i love is no where to be found.
complex on complex on complex.
i can't even begin to pretend i'ts not true.
that song does me better than the best drugs can
and I know that feeling well.
the peak before the spill, like
sunrays reaching land between a clouded sky.
don't remind me of that tiny dancer
because my linens can't stretch the distance to where you are.
gonna take this as it goes
like a boulder breaking loose.
i'll crumble in the downfall,
shattering from impacts like a firework at night
but my saving grace
is being scattered about with all the others
which time has performed it's endless task.
I dare and try to stop it.
stand beneath where cracks have formed.
place my hands high and hold the weight
as it begins to shift from the freeing of gravity.
could i be Sisyphus? or be Atlas?
my mythology hasn't developed in depth
but I am no disgraced God.
i am man with a heart filled of fever dreams
that doesn't know his own strength or worth.
i'll try forever and endlessly come short
its no different than where i stand today
but i'd find myself crushed flat if i didn't try.
you didn't want to swim, said the water was too cold.
so you dipped your toes in from the jetty.
you've spent too much time in the south
grew thin skin like those reptiles and warmed yourself in the sun.
I dove in knowing what this might mean
so I took off for the depths of emerald green
where I could barely make out your image
or see my feet treading beneath
symbolic in more ways than one
I didn't stay long for consideration of your chilling blood
you asked if I felt refreshed
even though you knew I was.
we spoke strictly in subtext
until I asked for clarity
and that's when I found myself drowned
i want to hold that golden evening glow
that sits on shedding cornsilk
of budding cornstalks in a far off field
while we lay watching the sky
endlessly open our universe
and laugh until we die...
….I don't want that to happen soon,
I just want to do die with you forever.
I need a restart from the womb.
Fresh years to remember less awkward things.
I won't find my awareness when this happens
So I'm stuck here in this existence and need to find acceptance.
My past is on the other side and
I can be born each day, as long as I wake.
To tell you the truth i'm drowning,
Even though I was born in the sea.
I don't hear music like when I used to listen
It doesn't dance like wind on-top your skin
but when its toes begin to preen my mind becomes a hive
that speaks through communal action
where words find no ground to stand on
but float above the nest, patiently waiting to reside.
I ain't heavy but I carry weight
don't try to save me, i've learned to be alright in the wake.
I can't ask sacrifice from the living;
Their duty to praise the passed.
Ask the dead to answer impossible prayers,
So why should the living aide the living?
Suffering is solely meant for those that suffer
Not thy loving neighbor, nor thy clan.
Watch me side step from the place you've set me
Now; try to meet me in my eyes, please.
Don't help me feel misused
Don't wash your fingers clean
As if I were unwanted and wasted glue
You said "I hope you know I'm stuck with you"
I promise I won't complain
I'll tell you how it is, but I swear to do it sweetly
Now watch me walk ahead
Praying to God you're not far behind.
baking with bananas brings me back.
when your love took form of a muffin,
when French was more than an ideal
but something our tongues practiced
with spitting vowels and lingering r's
we were married in French class
down the aisle of our hallway but
you're no longer a part of my life
but you'll remain a part of me
and when I bake banana bread
filled with chocolate chips
ill remember how warm you were
and how beautiful our love could be.
"bloom before daylight fades and the season falls cold",
blurted the toasted sunflower with its burning pedals
and stalk of dripping sap.
"these roots rest deep but cannot sustain without your light",