Most die as caterpillars, their stiff long carcass left hanging somewhere precariously, a ridge they attempted to climb that proved too much in the end for them to struggle through – incarnate no longer

Most die as caterpillars, a shadow of their possibility, many legged creature that could not find a way, even with so many legs, to overcome the most brutal of obstacles, the self from which they run, walk, and crawl

Most die as caterpillars, round, crusted, unyielding to those around them, determined instead to bowl ahead with their own agenda, lost to the possibilities not only around them, but inside them, for the greatest mystery of all was still inside them when they died

Most die as caterpillars, the undiscovered country of themselves left behind, and having lived a life whereby the greatest annoyance were the unusual creatures that occasionally fluttered by, golden wings and unstoppable spirit that soared to heights that even so many legs could not reach

We cracked the sun wide open
and drank till light spilled across our chins
then down our chests
until our shirts were drenched
your pale skin and pink petals
Glimmering through the sheer white wool

And not even the least put off
You tore your blouse right from your back
and roared with laughter and delight
tearing mine while running toward the shore

We pulled two stars down from sunset skies
And hung them from your gentle lobes
And though they tried could not eclipse
The light from your true self exposed

Growing weary from the day
We tore  fabric from the clouds
And made a blanket on the ground
Near the waters edge

We slipped out of our sun soaked clothes
And drank so gently from the moon
From root to crown in deep embrace
made love like lovers, friends and fools

We thanked the sun and thanked the stars
While drifting off to dream
interlaced our hands and legs and hearts
And rocked the night to sleep

Perhaps you are right,
You are here for
little more than sorrow,
twisted ambiguity,
languishing in torrential rain

But what if you are wrong
And you are here to
transcend the sorrow,
clear the ambiguity
and dance in the sun

Were you to be as sure of the
latter as you are of the former,
how differently would you
live this day?

in the most sensational ways

I want your everyday eyes and your everyday smile
Your everyday laugh and your everyday guile

Your everyday love and your everyday pain
Your everyday sun and your everyday rain

I want your everyday body; your everyday skin
Your everyday loss and your everyday win

Your everyday breath on your everyday kiss
Your everyday stress and your everyday bliss

I want your everyday dance and your everyday stroll
Your everyday rock and your everyday roll

You're every day dress and your every day hair
You're everyday hug and you're every day care

I’ll give you all of my life and all of my trust
And all of my love and all of my lust

I'll share all of my hopes and all of my dreams
All of my plans and all of my schemes

Just the everyday you and the everyday me
By your everyday side is where I'll everyday be

You ask of others
what you are not willing to do
each time you ask another to love you
when you do not yet love yourself
(For if you did, you would not ask)

And yet each day I watch you wander,
walking the lines of someone else’s shores
searching for a foothold among rocks and sand

Though within you there are boundless oceans
with light and hues you’ve not even yet imagined
that remain completely unexplored

You’ve not begun to swim their depths
as you are too busy trolling the shallows
of someone else’s refracted image
of the self that they don’t know

Worry not about painting the sky
with someone else’s color
and find now your own palette -
the one that is yours uniquely
not yet discovered, for it will
only be found when you
find it within your self

Journey within and you will see that
the kingdoms that you are seeking are
also seeking you

You are the ultimate mystery of this lifetime
the grandest adventure of them all
the undiscovered continent hiding in plain sight

Love has not abandoned you
it is within you waiting to be discovered
please stop asking others why they won’t love you
And start asking that of yourself

I can't see you, but I see you
I don't know you but I know you
When you let me I will love you
just as deeply as you love yourself
and we will swim your oceans together

Love does not make you vulnerable,
it makes you invincible

I wait for you beneath the stars, in the place that we agreed upon
In a dream I can’t remember, though I’m sure we both were there
And though others ask if anyone is sitting in the empty seat beside me
I tell them that it’s spoken for and see them on their way

I wait for you beneath the stars, in the place near where the wind begins
With fresh cut grass and dandelions and sand down to the shore
And when it’s clear I see your face among the constellations
And when it’s not I see your heart float among the clouds

I wait for you beneath the stars, in the place that we agreed upon
The fire burning just enough to warm two cups of tea
And when you arrive I’ll know you by the words you spoke
when you told me……….well, you already know

I fell in love with you in metaphors. Having never seen you, but reading every word you write.

The way you dangle your participles, naked and raw, yet still soft and round, then casually leave unfinished sentences as if to say, please, finish me as you will

You tempt with your soft parentheses, tightly wrapped around my waist, the words they squeeze rubbing up against the curves

Your similes, a sideways smile, like the cat, canary gone, pull me closer until your delicate punctuation is so warm, so wet, I can feel it pressed against me, you alliterate, such sweet surrender, so sublime, and I succumb

I want you now in rhyme, in verse, in prose, in  sweet haiku

     'where in so few words
you trace the shape of my heart
         and then (somehow) paint its hue'


I fell in love with all your metaphors, the way your sentence structure feels pressed hard against my body, devilishly running on so that I'll follow ,your undulating syllables, your firm round letters, your tight sweet semi-colon, that no common comma could replace.

If not but for the illusion that we are alone, this would all be so easy.

You managed to swerve around
the dark circles under my eyes

Staying on the shoulder (my left)
To avoid traffic

Then arrive at the beltway
which you unbuckled

Blindfolded and reckless (never abandoned)
and a complete disregard for ***** safety

pulling me over, hands behind my back
legs spread,  guilty and charged

I love the way you never care if I’m in the mood

With sunrise came a hunger

So I,
I bit deeply into the peach,
that you’d left uncovered
on the bed

And,
drank the juice
sweet and warm
on my tongue
And down by throat

While you,
you seemed delighted
at how quickly
breakfast came

Then
suddenly famished,
took the fruit
all the way
into your mouth
that you’d not finished
the night before

But,
rather than have you
swallow whole,
and risk
choking on
too big a bite,
I pulled you close
sinking easily into
the unfinished peach,
dripping wet on the sheets,
while sharing the taste
on both our lips

Unconcerned with the mess
we devoured with abandon
while you,
without warning
****** your fingers
into my watermelon
roaring with delight

Apples,
then melons
then cherries,
tearing right
through every bunch

Then,
deciding not to waste the seeds,
we moved instead
straight on to lunch

I spent last night with your potential;

We met for tea at that place you love
drizzled with lavender and light
She was understated dazzle,
like brilliant, beaming, sun soaked wonder,
yet not interested in whether
anyone noticed

We spoke of you all night
the spills and chills and twists and turns
And being honest, of the two
I'm not sure who had deeper tracks
from salty tears left upon our cheeks

Tears of joy for what you may become,
Tears of sorrow for the torture you
fashion for yourself each day

We laughed as well;
Not at you per se,
But at the time you waste
on boys and toys, and empty joys
that lead you astray and further from her door
where your potential is patiently waiting

I do so wish you could have been there
You would have loved the
Chocolate Molten Lava Cake
Though we only had two spoons
And of course you were too busy
with the obsession du jour,
your ex again was it,
perhaps your mother's love,
or the problem you're currently
sleeping with


We didn’t take a single picture
as the only two to share it with
were present for the evening

She wanted me to tell you
That she believes in you more than ever
As do I my love

She was hoping that starting tomorrow,
the moment that a thought arises that
takes you further from the rendezvous
You’ll tell yourself
‘I’m more beautiful than I know
because my potential told me so’

And she promises that it works better
than clicking red heels that sparkle
to get you on your way

She loves you honey, so much
and so much more than the people
you waste so much time on
trying to make love you and make love to

Oh, and she asked me to remind you
that she’s ready for you to meet her,
As am I as well

For when you meet your potential
I’ll be there with two spoons, but this time
the second one will be for you

You are the midnight sky above me

Your body stretched out like a canvas
your arms branches,
your legs roots wrapped around me 
strong and sturdy
yet giving
as the wind swirls in gusts around us

Your eyes,
silver pools of moonlight
reflecting, wordlessly, breathlessly but not restlessly
I deepen inside of you

Our hands entwined, extensions of the other,
beauty unrestrained you reach deeper into me,  

Your hair brushing lightly against my chest,
a smile erupting from your lips and a laugh,
sweet surrender in your arms

You are my love,
I’ve known you since I’ve known what knowing is
and knew that there was someone I once knew that I would know again

I loved you since love was born
under a new born sky near a gentle moon
not jealous of the stars but rather loved by them

And so it came to pass that yesterday was today and today was finally tomorrow
but not before we danced along the shoreline stardust trailing in the wind and on the sand behind us, beneath us

Windswept kisses, lightly salted on your lips as they part mine, as we know assuredly that we never will

I will begin on the plains of your abdomen,
gently tracing their rise and fall
as breath enters and escapes your lips
noticing like mountain dew,
how sweat begins to glisten on your skin

And moving up toward your northern exposure
I’lll scale your round, soft mountains,
achingly slowly yet steady just the same
while you beg me
to reach the sensitive peaks
But twirling just around them,
refusing your demand to bite,
and leaving two soft kisses where
a flag would otherwise stand

Then charting a course around either side
of your most golden coast,
instead gently running my fingers
(with ice held between them)
down your peninsulas,
toward the straights of your inner thighs
across the narrows that lay behind your knees
And though you spread your geography
to create an inlet to your ocean,
I will instead continue to attend to
the peninsulas’ ends,
greatly in need of attention
as they’ve carried your land
from place to place without complaint

Then rolling the landscape asunder
And revealing your southern exposure to the sky
I’ll gently explore your heart shaped dunes,
Soft yet firm, causing a vibration in the ground
as you express your approval with the progress
of the expedition

Moving on to the edges and ridges of your
so strong back, your femininity pronounced only more so
by how strong and broad your shoulders,
I’ll hold and rub them firm, thankful for the place
upon which my head at times will rest

And finally, the last frontier of this journey
The soft sweet center of your landscape
like swollen earth between my lips,
and then our hips like rolling hills
An earthquake slowly building
tectonic plates shifting out of place
until the world begins to shudder,
the room shake, and then fall silent
as our two bodies remain as one
while drifting off to explorations
found among our dreams


(National Pornographic was the alternative name)

But I love him.

Yet you are so unhappy.

But I love him.

Yet you cry all the time.

But I love him.

Yet you miss so many flowers in your path, lost in sadness.

But I love him.

Yet you don’t feel loved.

But I love him.

Yet you don’t feel fulfilled.

But I love him.

Tell me, what does love mean to you?

To need someone so much.

Need and love are not the same.

To want to be with someone all the time.

That is not love, that is desire.

To want them so badly, naked in my arms.

That is not love, that is attraction.

To miss someone so much.

That is not love, that is loneliness.

To get so angry thinking of them with someone else.

That is not love, that is jealousy.

To know that this is the only person that can make me happy.

And yet you are not happy.

To feel so afraid of losing someone.

That is not love, that is fear.

Then what is love?

Love is wanting what’s best for another, even if that is not being with you.

I do not feel that way, I want him with me.

Love is an appreciation for someone as they are with no need or desire to change them.

I do not feel that way, there are things he should change.

Love is an open, brilliant energy that transcends time, that is present always and that needs nothing in return.

I don’t have that for him.

Perhaps you are not in love.

It seems that I am not.

What are you then?

I am in need, I am afraid, I am lonely and I'm directing it at him.

And?

And so it is not love.

Are you sure?

Yes.  Now I am. Quite.

Then, your journey can begin.

I woke with a start,

the cracked wooden shutters banging wearily in the wind, hinges groaning, slowly rusting, fully unaware that their time had past, instead they hold on like steadfast soldiers defending a front that no longer matters, in a war that’s already been lost

And, as sleep dissipates, my attention narrows and I -
I realize that I have no wooden shutters, that they have not
been attached to a house in which I’ve slept for more years than
most dogs live in east coast towns with half lit neon signs
O en 24 rs

and yet somehow I heard them rat, tat, tattering like the
shuffling of shoes attached to a woman that needs a wheelchair
but refuses, in favor of a walker, who never leaves the house without
removing all the curlers and putting on her face

None the less the shutters, some time long ago
were torn and left asunder, when the house was removed from
its foundation, by a chipped yellow painted machine,
with enough torque to remove the home in which I grew from existence, leaving a gaping hole that was the basement
where I had my first second base

But there is you, laying beside me, gently breathing in the dark
like the consistent flow of ocean waves, lapping the shore with certitude then slowly disappearing into the vastness of the green blue sea

You are more than I ever could have hoped for, more than I
could have imagined decades ago, when, with a pillow pulled upon my head,
wishing that the wooden shutters attached to my blue green house would drown out the sound adults in family rooms make when
screams are louder than Carson and the studio audience’s laughter

Instead of falling back to sleep, I prefer to listen to your ocean’s breath, the silence from the family room that you and I occupy, while hoping to one day hold you steady long after you need a wheelchair but prefer instead my forearm and a cane

My beloveds,

Please stop seeking me out
in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing
In every evening’s masquerade, serenaded by dime store boom boom playing through bar room speakers

Release the idea that I’m somehow hiding inside of the lover to whom you’ve chained yourself, just waiting for you to release me from a hidden tower

I’m not.

It breaks my heart to watch your aimless searching, pressing up against writhing bodies, then torturing yourself with the notion that you somehow had the one that got away

You didn’t.

Forgive yourself the notion that your sole purpose in this lifetime is to seek someone with whom to share it as it only leaves you searching in places that I simply can not be found.

I am not the destination, I am the journey.  

I am not the answer, I am the question.

I will not find you the moment that you stop looking for me.  
I will find you the moment that you find yourself,
Somewhere along the path that leads you to who you might become 
should you begin to walk it

You seem to think that somehow we are playing hide and go seek, 
and that I am right behind the chair, eternally eluding you

But the truth is I am somewhere down the path between where you started and your potential, while you’ve not even left the living room

You did not come here seeking love.  
You are love and you came here seeking answers. 
Please start asking the questions. 
Who are you?  
What do you want?  
Why are you here? 
Why did you come?
What might you become should you decide to become it?

You, the all powerful, that came to human form, born into the maelstrom to learn, to teach, to be, 
and yes, even to love, 
though you knew that you would suffer, 
You have forgotten who you are and why you came

Brave one, made of light,
you don’t need to look any further to find me.  
You are me and I am you. 
And once you’ve left this form 
you will again remember that you are love and light 
and have never and will never be alone.

But, if only you could wake up while you’re still here, 
then yes, you could change the world.  
You would bend the universe.
And that which you are looking for would find you, 
undistracted, unrestrained, and beautiful, 
at which point I will slip my hand into yours 
and then you won’t remember a moment before I arrived.

Please stop seeking me out in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing

Your life is calling.  
Please pick it up.  

You’ll find me on the other end of the line.

Loquacious and Lascivious, a most distracting combination
You’ve driven me, pitch black, headlights off,
into twisted metal heaps of distraction

And yet, it is not me, at least not me alone
There is a sense, from where I know not,
that these thoughts I think are not mine own
That by some impossibility an interloper
has managed to tap in to my frequency
And subjugate my better self in favor of foreign imprints,
dark and ******, dripping blood that spells my name

How is it that you have arrived,
or perhaps the better question is
how long have you been here
How many moons has it been
like a spider creeps
that my thoughts have not been from myself conceived

Claws dug in from where do you perch,
fishing with ****** bait until you find the strain that draws me in
Infects me wherein I add combustion to your dégagé,
and seek out satisfaction dark and base
at which point your needle ******
you  mainline the light from my veins
while I am lost in pull and ******

I really must commend you for such a charade
that has been for so long captivating,
adding darkness where light would grow

But we must now part ways, for I am tired of this game,
and have matters of importance that do not include a blooming rose,
flush with blood from a thorny bush that you have sewn

Adieu, I pray that you find no safe landing
inside the gentle mind of your next victim
though you have known me more intimately than most I’ve known
You know me not at all

She said ‘I love you’ into the phone.  

But it wasn’t the perfunctory close to a call

Or to illicit an echoed response

I love you;

She emphasized the love and instead of allowing the you to trail off indiscriminately,

she held it up as if to say, it’s you that I love, and no other.

I love you;

Though she didn’t emphasize the I, she didn’t need to, would never have to

so long as the love was so authentic.  So much so that  she even surprised herself

owing more to a tidal wave than a creeping up on

I love you

nearly swept her away as she was walking up the stairs from the cafe

back into the quad, sun shinning, and breeze gentle

I love you wasn’t the end of the call, it was but the beginning

Somewhere in the distance an alarm is sounding.

For most, it’s transparent,
indistinguishable from the cacophony
of life’s noisy complexity,
causing no disruption in their slumber.

For others, it’s a whisper, one they
are convinced they are imagining,
hearing things perhaps.
One that causes but a shift from
one side of the bed to
the other as the night
becomes strange,
yet continues

For fewer, it’s an itch, a constant
distraction on the razor’s edge.
Like a dream, almost remembered
that slips away when attended to.
They stir in their sleep,
slouching toward morning,
holding on to night.

For fewer still, it’s deafening, impossible
to ignore, evolution, rising like the sun,
at times blinding in it’s beauty, with
a ferocity that demands an audience.
Those few are dreaming lucidly, fully aware
that waking is inevitable, yet still afraid
of the messy road that lay ahead.
Some have opened their eyes
only long enough to strike the alarm
in favor of five more minutes

For the fewest, sitting up in bed, eyes open,
alarm still ringing, groggy, like waking in a
strange bed, unsure of the surroundings.

Recognizing beauty, grateful for the
day, and the moment, coming to terms
with the messy nature of evolution;
so many sleeping in their bed around them as they
themselves, prepare to have their feet on the floor



And a handful have become the alarm.

Walking among the world,
careful not to disturb those
immersed in the dream,
whispering gently to fewer,
speaking quietly to fewer still,
wrapping their arms around the fewest,
rocking them gently,
and warmly embracing
the handful, reunited with
age old friends.

You will know them through
chance encounter, coincidence,
synchronicity, serendipity or happenstance.

You will find them in song, in poetry, in a
summer breeze, an old oak, in a comment
overheard in aisle seventeen.

Listen closely my love. And have no fear,
even the softest light when awakened
is brighter than the most brilliant sun of
the dream.


Somewhere in the distance an alarm is sounding,

calling you to see your own beauty,
to reject the insecurity,
**** the lies,
to recognize the
demons for what they are,
their costumes,
once so convincing,
look absurd in the light of day.

The lover that lied and the lies you tell yourself will
seem so unimportant as black light is useless
in the sun

You were made for the sun.



Somewhere in the distance an alarm is sounding,
it’s time my love, to wake up.

You’ll find me in the kitchen fixing breakfast, your favorite.

I breathe in deeply
behind your ears
and down the nape of your neck
as you shiver
notes of jasmine and violet both
gently fading as your
perfume slowly drifts

And then, with your arms
stretched above your head
I take you in again
sweet and seraphina
soft skin sensual
nothing rolled on to obscure
Your overtones
Lush and wild

And on your stomach,
tanned and curved
are hints of coconut from oil spread,
with soft lavender lingering from
a salty scrub, residue from
a morning bath
aphrodisiactic elixer
it draws me in

And then, in the expiration of anonymity
your truest nature comes to light
Scent before taste, I inhale
citrus and sandalwood
salted and sacred
ancient and esoteric
unbridled symmetry
dew gathering
with flavor so rich
it drips from your canyons
As are we, both swept away

When next love knocks upon my door
I'll invite her in with warm regard
and offer her a cup of tea
as we make introductions

When next love knocks upon my door
I'll not rush her or make haste
but rather let the time unfold
as naturally as ocean tides

The next time love knocks on my door
I’ll set aside all expectation
like children dancing in the rain
happy just to be alive

When next love knocks upon my door
I’ll find a way to let her know
that while I’ve not been waiting for her
I’m happy she’s arrived
she’ll find someone that loves themselves
absolving her of great demands
save for just a moonlit dance

When next love knocks upon my door
I'll read her verses that I've written
and sing her songs forged by my hands
to make the shape of my heart plain

If love decides that she will stay,
not for the night, for ever more
I’ll love both wisely and too well
And remove the knocker from my door

Act Accordingly

Forget that which was said

and that which was done

by whom for what and why

and perhaps embrace

even  within yourself

that which you have not loved


squeeze,

      from every last second

a joy that drips

                 down your hands

as it over flows  

                     your cup

because with so little time

left

there is no concern of tomorrow

or yesterday


what freedom you now have



Today is your last

act accordingly

(even if it isn't)

If yesterday were your last
And today you were at rest
You’d no longer have to worry
About how you looked in the picture
that your sister took while you weren’t looking
Or whether or not your neighbors dog continued to bark after six
You’d forgive your ex for the mistakes you both made
along with your daughter for running away with that Alex

Yet if there were enough magic left in the night
to give you one more tomorrow

You wouldn’t worry about your broken heart
Or your net worth

You’d probably just sit among the lilies
struck by the beauty of the sun
And for the first time realize,
just how beautiful the world is

So why then won’t you please do that while you’re alive

I don't want you to bother
building up a thick lather,
your shower-soaped hand
moving between your legs,
then reaching the long-way round to
spread yourself wide open, bending forward
just so that you can drag the steel edge of a razor across
your soft skin

I’ve never stood
in a field of wild flowers and
thought it to look overgrown

You don’t need a single drop of perfume
on your *******, near your *** or on
your sheer white tank as I don’t mind
the taste or scent
of your sweat,
dripping
from your summer skin,
glistening in the
afternoon heat.

No need to burn
your soft long locks between
two tongs,
to pull them taut, or blow them dry
to make them straight.

Your curls,
untamed and  
and unpredictable
need no refinement;
I'll follow them as they
twist and turn

I want you my love,
unvarnished,
unapologetic,
unfinished,
unrealistic,
and most
assuredly
unshaven.

At first,

It’s barely an itch.

Slowly it worsens.

You drown it in wine.

It learns to swim.

You *******.

It still smolders.

It burns.

And then,

You add gasoline

And rage along side of it

Inevitability.

You took a lover

But wanted a savior

To make you whole.

To complete you.

And when he was only a lover

You began to hate him

For not being what he never was

What you tried to make him

He couldn’t save you

Only you can.

And when you do,

you’ll be ready for a lover.

One that’s already saved himself

Instead of two halves

You’ll be two wholes

Through which light will shine

It’s me there in your sunrise eyes
your swaying hips, your sunset thighs
like tasting sun kissed lemon pies
writhing in your sun soaked ties

My fingers gently wisp your breast
Bite your petals, kiss your chest
Holding you when you need rest
Restrained there at your own behest

It’s me there lapping you like waves
Exploring all your hidden caves
Sensual your body craves
So wild as it misbehaves  

But soon it will be you I’m sure
Who’s pinned me on the sandy floor
Begging me to beg for more
Begging you to touch my core

It will be us then side by side
Arms entwined but neither tied
No foolish thoughts nor foolish pride
No fears or feelings we must hide

Just us there in the fading light
And us there in the quiet night
Again, when next the sun takes flight
Like two birds soaring to great height

Then gently fading out of sight
Yes, gently fading out of sight.

Side effects may include:

Marriage
Divorce
Sleepless nights
Anger
Depression
Self deprecation
Unquenchable Thirst
Abusive behavior
****** *******
Night terrors
Jealousy
Anxiety
Misdirected blame
Infidelity
Substance Abuse
Searing Pain
Excessive *******

Please consult yourself before starting this or any new relationship by passing fear off as love and pretending it is real.  

Studies have shown that the hard honest work of falling in love with the beauty of the real you will lead to a lack of willingness to subject yourself to suffering.  

Ask your doctor about LoveThySelf and whether it's right for you.  

LoveThySelf- The soul you save will most certainly  be your own (for it's the only one you can)

Available now, at a mirror near you.

I let you have your way with me
and in the moment of such reckless abandon
I was turned on by my own disgust
knowing that it wasn’t for my greater good
And how mourning and morning would come in tandem

But putting my hands above my head
and feeling you press down on either side of my hips
while fighting the urge to run
I wanted you to make me yours
dark though this way it would come

I licked my lips unconsciously
biting down as you opened me up
while I bargained with myself
for no one lies to us sweeter than
we do to ourselves

Then just before I allowed myself
to be devoured, to be consumed by the fire
pouring from your wet sweet flush
I caught my reflection in the mirror

Afraid of what I would become
should I allow the desecration
I flipped you on your back
Held your head in both my hands
Kissed you on the forehead
Laced my soul up from the floor
While walking slowly from the room
at last, I was finally free

It’s not the relationship that you’re holding on to.

Nor is it the person
lying on the other side of the bed,
across an unreachable chasm
breathing softly in the night

He is merely a part of the illusion
that you so intricately carved
and then pinned on this
unwitting soul saddled with your expectations

made him your atlas, weighed down by
your insecurities, unexamined truths that
rather than explore, you’d hoped he'd vanquish

And when he could not slay the invisible
dragons (for he is fighting with his own)
you began to hate him almost as much
as you do yourself

and yes I know, while wine nearly dulls the senses
enough to not hate being taken from behind on occasion,
it only leaves you with muffled tears once the flush
of lust has passed.

No my love it’s not.
It’s not the relationship that you’re holding on to.

You never even liked his laugh,
but he was enough to momentarily
quiet the insecurities that torment you
on your mind’s playground
that tell  you that you’re not worth loving,
how no one wants a girl with scars or
stds or two young kids


It’s not his fault nor is it yours,
release him of your shackling hopes
and don’t waste time with anger for him
not being what he never was.

Then start down a path cut by love’s
sharp edge, through the thick overgrowth of fear
rather than the other way around

And on your own, you will discover
that beauty is but the reflection of the
light that you already possess, that the playground bullies lie and that you're so deserving of your own love
and understand the lover that you want isn’t the one that is seeking the insecure, for insecure only seeks the same

I know my love.
I know that you’re afraid to loosen your grip.

But I promise you this much is true,
if you let this go and instead use your hands
to reach inside, to find out who you really are,
the light that shines from your eyes
will light the world, and as an incidental
artifact,  attract a lover matched in full

  
It’s not the relationship that you’re holding on to.

And the time has come my love,
to just let go.

There's nothing casual about it.

It doesn't happen very often any more
But at times
The darkness calls
And I, feeling pulled
Betray my better self in favor of
A temporary respite from the loneliness.  
And though the path I'm on isn't perfectly straight, it's perfectly imperfect in all its human messiness

And it's beautiful, for all of our madness comes
from within, as so does our exquisiteness.

If darkness calls on you, and you find yourself
Unable to resist, I will love you just the same
in the morning, as we are more brothers, lovers, sisters than we are distant cousins.  

And you are not the darkness
You are not the pain
You're the seer and the seen
And it's not always easy
to refuse the mad hatter's offer for tea

In bright light, your demons look absurd,
dressed in cheap costume, seams showing,
little more than a sheet with holes to make the eyes,

Yet in the dark, they terrify,
prey on your fears,
tear through your defenses,
twisting your desires into your identity
feeding lies back on a loop
“No one will ever love you”
“You’ve already lost the one”
“How pathetic you are”
“She’s was the only and she is gone”
“He’s the only one that could make you come”
“How fat you are, or you’re too skinny”


And you believing them,  
lay down curled in their scaley arms
convinced that they are silk,
while they devour your
beautiful, perfect center,
confusing intimacy with pain,
trust with submission
getting off on your underworld fantasy
as you plan the eulogy
for your own funeral


In the light, you can see
the victim hood that you wear,
of your own design,
sewn by your hand
and pulled tight
over your eyes

With a gentle gesture
you can slide it up above your soft sensitive lenses
and recognize just how alone you’re not,
like a child who hides their eyes
and believe themselves to have disappeared

Love has not abandoned you,
you my love have chosen to share
your unprotected heart with
people and places,
substances and situations that do not serve you


Yet you’re so **** beautiful,
if you could see your
own true form you’d weep
for it’s too much to behold and yet
you lay with leeches willingly;

you’d laugh at the tears your crying
over some silly boy or girl, who, more lost than you,
did you the deepest favor by checking out of the
twisted motel that you’ve fashioned for yourself

She’s not the only one that can make you happy,
he’s not the only one that can make you come;

you’ve confused lust
and desperation with love,
as the dark is so want to make you do

My love; you’ve arrived here,
in a body that is beautiful,
with a gorgeous mind
and a future, that if you choose, can be so bright

I know it’s hard to leave dark places,
having left many of my own
but trust me on this accord,
leave your hood upon the floor,
and though your demons will thrash and scream
politely suggest they **** themselves as you twist the handle on the blinds  and let the light shine brightly in

We need you out here in the light where demons are nothing more
than sheets on springs that will never touch your light again

We see you beautiful, just as you should see yourself.

And then one morning you we’re gone…

No scent
No stitch
No remnant or sound
No thoughts of you demanding the attention of my emotional landscape
No empty feeling left in my chest
No bill come due

Nothing left but the warmth,
the beauty of what we shared
nestled deeply enough within me as if to say,

‘Now you’re free to hold on to that which you needed to experience,
without burning your hands on the memories’

your heart expanded,
your lessons learned
all accounts are settled


It was morning
and I was alone
with nothing,
nothing but the shimmering bloom
of a brand new day

The moment arose, less like a siren, than a sunrise
And I, I began to confess

Not to a lover, or a priest, or to the lover of a priest
Instead to a rain soaked stranger sitting beside me
who’s eyes afforded me assurance that my burdens
would find safe harbor upon his shoulders

Though I churned slowly at the start,
like a steam engine, rolling downhill, my pace quickened
As I transitioned from casual transgressions down
the rabbit’s hole, rich with growing shards of truth

His knowing glance, like Santa Claus to a wayward child,
set at ease any concern that time was limited
and so I slowed, rather than rush past some truth
that demanded full accounting
while in him I found familiarity that I could not place

Though his words were few, they were will chosen, marveling at how
matter-of-factly he regarded my menagerie of secrets, sins and lies,
always with a short story, similarly slanted, in the life of someone he once knew

And feeling not the least put off,
I reached asunder and pulled the roots
of the most stubborn weeds and laid them plain upon the bar as he,
accompanied by a cup of tea, relieved them of their tenacity, reconstructing them as sunflowers whose season,
now soaked with light, was yet to come

I shared the deeds I did, for what I misunderstood love to be,
and how far I had fallen from the places I once stood,
at which point he chuckled
drawing sticks on a napkins back
to show me how much higher I was standing
since making peace with my reflection

Yours are the stories of the world he said with tender conviction
The lies you’ve told, the chase for gold the fear of ever getting old

They are but songs in the opus that you’ve just begun to write
And not a single passerby out there in the twilight feels less guilty
They simply have not yet found the courage to look clearly in the mirror as you are now

And like a caretaker, he swept my confessions into a pile,
exposing a small scar, circle shaped on his left hand
as he coaxed, then chided them into the silver light
that reflected off the bar  from the street lamp that stood patiently in the rain

Without a word he tipped his hat and set off on his way,
while the bartender, perhaps in kindness, charged me but for a single tea

The days to come were filled with love
and more wonder than I’d thought there was
as I, unburdened, learned to walk, then to run and fly

And truth be told the stranger had not crossed my mind
until the day a careless step left a peculiar scar so very strange,
circle shaped on my left hand

My sweet divines

You did not come to search for love
in vacant eyes or flaccid *****
(chickens though they might be)
or toil with such silly boys or even men
whose fists are larger than their hearts
Or cracked and angry souled little girls
who know nothing of beauty (even their own)

And yet you burn your days and years
trying out their broken bodies
Sliding them inside of you to see if you can make them fit
Like some twisted cinderella searching for her heels

Yet all the while,
the secret that you seek
is seeking you as well,
but you’re hiding from it’s gaze

Forget for now these silly games
and fix your focus straight ahead
Unleash the light you’ve withheld
worry not for now of love
For as you become the you of your potential
Love will find it’s way to you, not as the end
But merely a reward along the way to your destiny

Stop searching in the bars and cars
Please stop fighting lovers wars
Become what you came here to be
find the world will be yours
for it already is if you so choose

the pace is quickening my divines
you're stronger than you know
you have the heart of a lion
and the soul of a phoenix

Soar, or Roar; it's up to you;
who am I to tell a goddess what to do

We'll meet in our life's afternoon
As the morning's all but gone
Lessons learned, small scars, big tears,
but no regrets at all

I'll share the bread and wine I've brought
Half or more, I have enough
I built small castles 'long the way
Money and its comforts
this time easily they came

I'll be merely who I am
I stopped pretending long ago,
to be something that I'm not
or caring what the critics say
When writing of me in the times

And so I'll meet you free and clear
Mind and body, both are sound
Thanks to yoga, and reflection
About life's meaning and that of love
One and the same they seem to be

Please don't rush; I will be here
Take care to learn your lessons well
Arrive too soon and you'll still be searching
For the self you've yet to find

How lovely though that day will be
And all they days from then till night
Walking hand in hand
No concern of other lovers
or casual friends that want us just the same

And we will have the love
that lovers always dream of
but never preserve to find
and exiting too soon
wind up miles from the spot

I'll meet you by the rising sun
And somehow will just know your name
As you will mine, and hair and eyes
While moving at the spend of sound
My lover, soon is soon enough

Let's disappear
       like clouds
            after the rain
                   Tween earth and sky,
                            there is but you and I

Don’t look long on the darkening of the night
And give no energy to their gaze
They look upon us from crumbling vantage points
steadfast but hands empty, save for what they steal

Don’t look long on gilded pyres
Give no contribution to their cause
hollow eyed and wayward souls
They’re simply drawn to you my dear

Don’t look deeply into the dark
And hope that you will find the light
The bottom is still much further down
but it tries yet still to brush itself across your lips

Don’t look at your own reflection
through the lens that they provide
Instead sit here in repose
And conjure images of light

Don’t look away from truth
But Be the seer and the seen
and let the rag and bones
of the pretty broken turn their indifference elsewhere

Don’t look for answers in the darkness
no great secrets will be revealed
It’s just a place where hope’s been *****
tragic fools are fools none the less

Don’t look for glory in extinction
There nothing romantic about being dead
And vampire’s teeth hold no beauty
A lesson learned too late for some

Don’t look for ecstasy in the pain
An ****** isn’t worth your soul
You’ve no idea how great the risk
And how quickly your wager will be lost

Don’t look but in my eyes my dear
And walk with me from this place
There’s nothing that I want from you
But to see you delivered, unharmed.

You live the first half of your life looking forward,
And the second half looking back
When my love, will you live with me
here in the sun,
eyes wide open,
clothes half off,
top all the way down

dance with me, dance with me now,
**** the fears, and all the lies you’ve told
I’m standing naked in the daylight,
fluorescent and dangerous,
ferociously loyal,
fiercely independent
and totally in love

Let the ground shake, the glass shatter,
be something they don’t understand
Stand for yourself and yourself alone,
Close your eyes,
open your heart
and just ******* let go
You won’t need me to catch you but you know I will


I’ll be your forever boy
But not from the sidelines
Bold, in the center of the ring, gloves off
And turned on simply by the way you smell

Most people spend the first half of their lives looking forward
And the second half looking back
But I am leaving here at 3:00 p.m.

Meet me at the corner of freedom and forever
Sunglasses on, and the rear view mirror will be in pieces

I’ll slow down, but I won’t stop
Then again, you won’t need me to
Just close your eyes,
cross your heart
And leap

If there’s no you then
I wouldn't have cut my hair at odd angles
and shapes in anger because you
****** a disco chick whose breath,
So full of smoke and ashes ,I tasted
On your lips even still this morning

If there’s no you,

Maybe I’m still the disco chick
Dancing till sunrise, kissing strangers
Feeling myself be felt by someone else

hair
      down
              to
                 just
                     above
                            my
                                hot round
                                                 ***

Which looks so good from dancing in
Heels which you know is hard to do

If there’s no you,

There’s me.  Still lonely perhaps

But then I’m the one that will have
The smoke and ashes of the disco chick
On my breath in the morning, she will
Find me far more pleasing with my mouth
below her waist then she could possibly
Have found you to be

And tonight, they’ll be no you

They’ll just be me, me and her because
I took her number from your phone
Just before I packed my bag
And left the hair behind

There were more than 200 people
at the party, spread out
across my lawn,
from dusk to nearly dawn,
swirling in colorful pockets
of conversation.

Undetected,
one of them left:   ❤️ U  
out of soap, on my bathroom mirror.  

At first I thought perhaps that it was you.
And then, all at once, I realized that it was me.  
It was finally me.
Thus, I drifted off to sleep.

You did not catch me when I leapt

and so I met my self in full

then leant my self a warm embrace

and laid down in the moonlight's gaze


You did not catch me when I leapt

but then never were you meant to

How funny such a notion is

mistaking caught for love


And so I danced there with my self

the first time in so many moons

It seems that I’d forgotten

just how lovely that can be


I belly laughed for days on end

and held my self as we both cried

I'd found the arms I'd so long missed

While waiting for the sun to rise


You did not catch me when I leapt

And so you gave the greatest gift

returning what I’d long since lost

and forgotten that I’d had

All the best sins are committed after midnight
When corners hold the light at bay,
It's people that are bent
Over the bed, the bar, the back seat of a stranger's car
Shadows and silhouettes crowned king and queen
When darkness holds the center spotlight
firmly to its chest

But even the darkest among the throng,
whose steely bloodshot wicked gaze
is fixed upon the sidewalk's *****
can not delay the rising of the sun
And the birds,
the birds they sing for everyone.

That's what I created, what I fell in love with, and of which I could not let go.   What funny creatures are we that miss things we only imagined to be |

Imagine for a moment 
that you could make love to yourself 
Not single handedly, but in full
body on body, legs intertwined, 
fingers interlaced 

Now my love, 
as you began,
what if she (you)
asked yourself to harm her.
Would you comply?

Would you pull on your own beautiful hair, 
the hair that you waited so very long to grow, 
hard enough to make her cry, 

Would you dig your nails 
into the soft skin 
that for years and years 
you only wanted to be unblemished

Would you, smack so hard, 
your unprotected places, 
round and soft, 
and tighten cuffs until 
they cut in to your wrists, 
wrists that always just wanted 
to be gently held while 
you crossed the street 
when you were so small 
you couldn't see over the hoods of cars 

Would you succumb to being 
the brutal abuser of your second self?


Or would you see my love, 
would you see that the you 
that is asking to be hurt, 
is already hurting so very much

So much so that 
she's confused pain with love 
that she's so far lost
that she can only find her ****** 
when being punished for things 
she has not done, 


What if instead 
you ran your hands through her hair, 
and told her what you have
both been longing to hear. 

That you're not alone. 
That you have yourself, 
and that she doesn't 
to abused to come

Could you both loosen your grip 
so that your broken model of love and *** 
can be glued back into place 

a place where you're ****** 
is a tidal wave of beauty 
instead of a shameful corner
where it hides today


You are perfect my love. 
And you are beautiful.  
And you don't need to be punished. 
 
You don't need your hair pulled to know that you are real,
 that you are alive and that you are deserving of love,
 love that you're withholding from yourself and that only you can give. 

There is a new story for you now.   
And if you are so inclined
It’s time to start a new

Reach a soft hand down between your legs
and feel yourself begin to swell 
to fill your *** with warmth 
while you move your hand in gentle rhythms 

Let the warmth begin to grow 
and your breath to deepen 
while you replace your fantasies of hate 
with an undeniable love 
so that you never again 
let some *****-breathed 
and undeserving stranger 
to abuse your beautiful body

Make love to yourself.   
and when the warmth 
breaks open and streams down your legs 
you’ll finally feel where love and ***
are truly meant to overlap, 
disappear into the vanishing point, 
burst out with laughter 
and then don't let anyone touch a hair 
on your beautiful head ever again.  
You don't need the pain anymore.  
You, my love, are free.

There was never any keeping us part

It was physics as much as it was madness

Drawn together, compelled maybe, I'm just not sure

One plus, one minus, both magnetized, cocked and fully loaded.

In a single fluid motion from strangers to lovers to so entangled and entwined, so inextricably linked we long ago lost sight of where one of us Begins and the other ends

I don't think it's healthy

It can't be healthy

To need the other to breathe, to drink you as my water, to be your cure, to consume ourselves so completely, hours pass in minutes, days in moments, I miss you when I'm with you, I miss me when I'm not, and I'm no longer entirely sure which is which

I don't think it's healthy

I think the pace is quickening.  I can feel it but I don't know where and I know I should, but I don't want it to slow down.

People are starting to notice.

They're attracted and afraid, were just too close, too connected, fiercely loyal, but running like a freight train unbalanced, pitched at 45°, swinging around a pass on a mountain side overlooking a bottomless ravine and we've both stopped conducting.  

I think we're into deep,

                                   but I like it


so please, write back soon.

When the sun doth shine upon the road
it's difficult to see where water will gather in heavy rain, more so for those that choose not to look

Where it will deepen to a depth that could take the life of the careless driver

No one lingers on thoughts of the places where gaps in the terrain will collect drops into a torrent when they're hurrying on a sunny day

But there are traces none the less, hints,
like the quiet voice urging you to change direction,
let him go,
that you can only save yourself,
the voice you so casually ignore,
before the rain

But I promise you my love,
the clouds are gathering,
please take care,
and turn the wheel

I reach my hand down below the sheets and beneath the wasteband that gives way,
to find myself engorged

And though I know we've not yet met,
I find my love still yet to be,
climbing up the bed I've conjured,
while laying between wake and sleep

I've done things that make some blush,
that I'd never thought I'd do
But with no regret, nor pride
Looking back on seasons passed,
while dining in hell's lobby

Boys and girls and girls and boys
And boys and boys and all those games
At times tied down, straddled by an angry hearted girl looking to exact revenge on past lovers by digging in to my softer parts while forcing me to ask for more

And yes at times, the one on top, succumbing
to the darker drives, holding firm onto the wrists
of a lover, begging for a harder smack, a stronger sting, a more forceful pull on her locks, and coming only when she's felt sufficient pain to satisfy her shadow

And yes it's true, nights when still, I can't be sure in the pile
whose hands were where, whose mouth it was that wrapped around me
When tangled in so many arms, that truth becomes a story that we tell ourselves should we recall the night before

And if by chance, my reading friend, you're out there now tangled up in twisted sheets, drink until you've  had enough,  but not so deep that you mistake  neon for the sun,  as  there are some that never leave the shadow's cave

For as I lay here now alone, only two hands in this bed, not feeling lonely but instead, a sense of peace while still turned on.  
Having danced in demons arms and finding not the truth I sought,  I sinned my way to virtue

Where now I wait, for one true love, that will accept the things I've done and those things that were done to me that  even now are too much to tell

My self engorged, I touch my body, not with shame and with my head not filled with darker scenes as I've lived them all, and now have found that I prefer the sweetness and the light