I'm waiting
It's this girl you see
Just one particular person
She's just very special to me

She mostly dresses in black
I think it's because of her past
And though she hides it well
Looking hard enough sees emotional cracks

Her eyes glow like diamonds
And her hair like brown wind-blown silk
However, her personality really hooked me
Just quiet, contented to be

She doesn't talk a whole lot
Not to me anyways
She just keeps a close circle of friends
And pushes me out of the way

I've tried talking to her
Several times now, but each time it's the same
Something about trust and differences
Then she just turns and walks away

So here I am waiting
It's seemed long now
Weeks to months turn years
Waiting for the girl in black

Is it worth the wait you might ask?
If I told myself no I'd be lying
For waiting is all that's left
So I'll continue to hope undying

The thing you are searching for
No longer
Exists.

I spent my days in search of you
Mending broken hearts with a simple thread
Through the looking glass I saw her legs spread
Bending here and there for you
Until the ***** came unscrewed
And the nail was broken in two

I’ve learned to love a blade’s edge…
I am nobody and somebody
with nowhere to go: the border between
Manhattan’s East and West Streets
ground and stone
reason and faith
mother and father,
the Father and the Son.

I’m the Holy Spirit, the shadow always
mediating between phrases “Serve me” and “Agape”…
I am this sentence. I want you, for this moment; this sliver
between life and death, this Mississippi cutting through
a continent. I was in Adam, after his expulsion:

Let the green apple be lodged in my throat
while washed in the image of Eden
before I leave, so in cursing my fate
and love what is…

Sharp and dangerous, always ready to use conscience
and **** according to judgment,
the thrill, the second where happiness
and sadness is satisfaction, I am there.

Nothing ever gets done without me.
I am a peninsula, imparting
land to waters and seas
divinity to mortality:
Pentecostal.

The blade’s edge ready to cut and be cut.
In the name of the Father and the Son
and me
Amen…
Go to heaven
if you cannot accept hell.
Go to hell if you cannot accept heaven.
As any mediator, I am a nation
unto myself, my fate, my exile.

I hate the sun.
I like the rain.
I am the rain.

I am cold,
I am needed
And I'm often times annoying.

I love singing in the rain.
I love walking in the rain.
I love driving in the rain.
I am calm.
The rain is calm.

I follow the rain.
I hate climbing hills and paths.
I am always going down,
Sometimes trickling along,
Sometimes I am a force that takes the surrounding earth by storm.

Everything seems brighter after it rains.
Greener greens and grayer grays.

I hate the sun,
And I feel like  you would have loved it.
My beautiful boy.
And I'm sorry that you never got to see it.
I wish I could have carried you to it.
I'm sorry you only got to feel my rain.
I hope it was enough for you.

Peridot twinkling Pine , Father sunshine
Shadow rhymes , intermittent portals of
ray donning signals from 'On High' , Navy blues
mingle with Dogwood whites sprayed with
Wisteria purple on a young , quiet Saturday night
My Bluebird ancestors , perched on a farm bell , bringing
joy and good fortune as long as the Summer day
Coffee on a sturdy wood porch , waiting for the Milky Way