As we fold each page,
It's important to note,
The past is but a whisper
Of a paragraph already told.

Pen in hand, ink dripping,
We write our future.
Scribe our dreams and hopes,
Upon the paper ledger.

Each struggle, a crease.
Each success, a chapter.

Our birth, the prologue.
The title, the cover.
Our death, the epilogue.
Das ende.

Along a tenacious cliffside,
Peers a lone sailor.
Spectacting the silent war,
The unyielding assault of waves.

Patches of grass, green with hope,
Litter the gritty sand.
Each shell sweeped upon the shore,
Entrance the young man with glee.

For he studies the horizon,
Searching for whom he's found.
A half scaled belle,
Of which he's called his own.

She swims the calloused tides,
In search of his arms called home.
Upon the beach she lay,
Covered in the sea's salty foam.

The sailor found her,
As the sand blends between his feet.
Next to her he rests,
Next to her he is complete.

The maiden turns to him,
"Jimmy Gray" she whispers.
The sailor replys inquisitively.
"I love you"

            ~

Jaw clenched tight, almost painfully.
Watching the door, I caught your glance.
Managed to drape a smile upon my face.
Those 20 steps you took to reach me.

That feeling in the deep pit of my stomach.
It never subsided. It will never calm.
The feeling of immense anticipation.
Jumping off a cliff. No parachute.

Taking your seat opposite me.
Nervous laughs, small talk.
Edamame and Riesling.
Tense muscles tore through my body.

You wore a braid consciously.
Almost spitefully. Almost dangerously.
Dumbfounded at your beauty,
I swung at your wine glass. It was mocking me.

The night progressed. I felt more at ease.
Heart pacing faster than a failed trapeze.
Finished up our meals, we entered the cold night.
Frigid air graced our cheeks.

Finding ourselves inside a local bar.
Curiously attracted to the curious brews.
Conversation became much more organic.
Flowing as efficient as the drafts.

Sneaking peeks at you in the mirror.
Wondering what thoughts reside inside you.
I couldn't have possibly left a great impression.
Nevertheless, you wore that Riesling with pride.

                                           -

A month melted. It cannot possibly be just that.
For years, I've had these butterflies trapped.
Just for you.

I must have heard your song,
Whispered past that rocky coast.
Finding myself washed upon,
A shore lined with glass jewels.

Resounding voice through my heart,
Bounced up your throat, out your lips.
Carried me here, Directed me here,
Past the ships filled with other fools.

A hand lifts me up from the beach,
Pulls me close to your chest.
It is you I sought, It is you I found.
Brought by a Siren's lulling sounds.

I believed my scribbled words were therapeutic.
Fluidly leaving my head through my pen.
Crafting symbolic thoughts, now seen useless.
With the rip of a page, do I feel comfort again.

Notebooks filled from cover to cover.
Each word was once said, each once felt.
Don't ever reopen them, don't ever rediscover.
Leave the wounds open, as scars or as welts.

You crept up on me.
Slowly, then abrupt and quick.
You gave me eyes to see.
Clearly, almost intrinsic.

There was a time before you.
Or was there?
I feel like I'm born anew.
A golden heir.

The world bestowed.
Contained in your blue marbles.
Both show me home.
Both sensational and artful.

Time stands still in your gaze.
Portioned into hours and minutes.
Overflowing into weeks and days.
But I feel no travel, I feel no grit.

I feel humour and passion.
I feel life and death.
I feel laughter and spite.
I feel everything that's left.

Perhaps we are bound by our desires,
And vices never quite behind us.

Perhaps we destroy our humility,
In the search for our own certainty.

Perhaps we've become too inspired,
To become more than our desires.

Perhaps, Perhaps.

One day, if all that is left of me
are words scribbled across a page,
I shall not feel lost or shamed,
But, feel bodied within this poetry.

We've reached an age where we talk at people. There's no 'to' or 'with'. We carelessly throw words around to each other hoping not to catch any unsatisfying sentences in return. Most of these substitutions for conversations are shoveled bit by bit through radio waves to small circuits in our pockets. Verbal language has become distant and alien to us. We're too content removing ourselves from the intimacy of communication that we've created societal norms that only further entrench this behavior while encouraging a facade of emotionless abandonment.

An answer other than 'good' to the masquerade of an endearing question - "how are you?" - will raise eyebrows and prompt suspicion. How far removed are we as humans from one another that a question on another's well-being is genuinely regarded as a greeting and meant to be mostly ignored and never answered honestly?

Put down your device and pick up your tongue.

You're an old wave never washed away
Sifting through foam a year to the day
Lain across speckled sands
With coupled hands
Grains of memories nestled in the bay

You're a swirling tide never seen low
Crashing upon shores with blundering blows
Found in the sweltering sun
With dying fun
Bubbles of memories caught in the undertow

You're a flood never relieved**
Drowning all that was ever believed
Dove to the dark deep
With nothing to see
Waves of memories bashed against the levee


~

I peeled back the bandages on wounds once sealed,
To show the history of what's been healed.
A door into who I used to believe I was,
A small man acting on foolish cause.

Battered and broken, showing my age.
As my conscience took the darkened stage,
Spouting a harsh and ominous soliloquy,
Which made me grateful I now live differently.

Let it out
Twist the cap
Pop two out
Relax, sit back

A gate into the world has cracked.
Light flows into the youngs' eyes.
Stumbling using their large feet,
The eyases stare into their falcon's shadow.

Born into a world, born into their nest,
Along a cliff where they'll spend their youth.
40 days they'll spend here.
2 months they'll be dependent on their falcon.

The tiercel will be fierce.
He will protect his offspring.
The falcon will nurture.
She will feed her offspring.

But all must leave the nest.
Twigs, dirt, and dead vegetation,
No longer can contain the eyases.
They fledge until they're confident.

Avid hunters and brutal slayers.
Beaks covered in blood were once creamy young.
They patrol the skies as kings.
They're "of noble birth; aristocratic".

Sent out the signal.

No return.

Disclose everything.

Don't ever return.

And with it you're gone.
I'm left catching my breath.
You'll always lead on.
It'll never be said.

Light freckles ahead of me.
The Sun begins to swell over the channel.
Warmth grazes my hands,
As the world is awoken.

Curiosity strikes.
Draping over me is a coconut palm.
Bland, pastel walls of Casa Babi are gone.
Replaced by a golden beach.

Waves lapsing in an orchestral chorus.
I swear it's the most beautiful sight
To ever quench my ears.
Perhaps I'll order another.

Reach to my right.
My nightstand has left me.
Similar to past encounters,
I'll be mixing alone.

Luckily my feet are still sleeping.
Their beds, secure in my sandals.
Waking them, I discover a metallic object.
Digging, finding my crimson flask.

Peering past the shoreline,
Admiring the Sun's trio of color.
I take another sip, hoping,
For the first time, I'll awake in the same place.

I am a canvas.
White, crisp, and clean.
You are the artist.
Preparing a new scene.

I am a canvas.
A swirl of shapes and shades.
You are the artist.
Pulling the brush to stray.

I am art.
Eliciting glances.
You're an artist.
Creating romances.

I am art.
Pulling thoughts.
You're an artist.
Feeling distraught.

I am the artist.
I am the art.
I am the artist.
I am the start.

You've ignited a flame long dwindled
What was once ash is now warming
Do you consider me?
Do you consider something forming?

I can tell you're afraid of commitment.
I was once too.

I'll let you take this fire
You can choose to let it grow
Or let the smoke flutter away
Please consider me one day.

Are we on different plateaus?
You perched above me, gazing beyond my frame
While I'm struggling, staring at your knees
All I ask is for you to bend down
Extend your hand as a chance to me

Let the sun glaze your face
Set your papers down, it's time
Wield your utensil like old ways
Create thousands of new rhymes

The trees whisper answers to you
They can feel summer on the move
While spring is accepting it's due
The breeze sways and soothes

Let the ink flow out everywhere
Write goodbyes and hellos
Dream of all that's fair and unfair
Underneath your weeping willow

Our thoughts and ideas
Are never our own
Deep within ourselves
A dreamer makes his home

He is of peculiar nature
Always busy and quick to ignore
The piled amounts of information
We feel important to store

Always writing out our daily plans
Things to do, appointments, and chores
Constantly slipping and spilling
Our filed papers all over the floor

He tediously writes "Excuses"
For those he "accidentally" loses
Filing them under all folders
So they may be stocked for all uses

So Teacher, I tell you
It was not I who lost your assignment
The Little Dreamer is the one to blame
Who also is in the process of reassignment

She leaped
Proof exists in actions
I followed
Not in thoughts or theories
She promised me
All pens run out of ink
She'd hold on
All pencils need to be sharpened
My hand grabbed and caught air
How am I any different?
She strayed away
The tingling sensation of nothing being there
Would I hold onto her?
The winner reaps the benefits
Should I follow?
But when both are losing, who gets the prize?

Tempting looks and a desire to care
We create our own environment
Rain water, plant trees, combust air
Knowing truly what we meant

Don't ever escape my grasp
Hands clasped, lips locked
My eyes focused on you
There's no words I can concoct
To describe the beauty before me
I am humbled in your presence
I am mesmerized by your elegance
We write our own story, design our ending

Two simple words will fulfill my dreams
(I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do,)
Please present your hand as my knee bends
Your eyes are tearing, So will you?

"Promise?"
Your hand grazes my arm
Traveling down to cup my hand
Forever locked without harm

I look at you and breath escapes
You held a hammer to my lungs
Paralyzing my throat and thoughts
Unable to speak, a bell never rung

Standing idly beside me
Your head nestled perfectly under my chin
The missing color in my masterpiece
The missing layer underneath my skin

Squeezing gently, I can feel your rhythm
Your heart creates a soothing beat
While you peer deep into my eyes and soul
Blue strands engulf black

Your swift glances at the cane
Suggest a detail of curiosity
And a hint of generosity
That you often try to feign
You're old and slowly growing insane

Gray hair and aches that deter
As you stumble up the stairs
Often wondering if it's ever fair
How your life passed as a blur
Weighing consequences that never were

Children married and passed away
Grandchildren pay no mind
There are no family ties that bind
The relations that have already decayed
All this leaves you with nothing to say

You're decaying
You're dying
You're growing
You're relying

...On someone who's not there.

Mr. Custodian, why must you be so?
You're my caretaker, for what? I do not know
For I am six feet under, safe and secure
The worms are my friends, darkness I endure
Amongst the dirt and dust, I am protected
Though on that grim day, my light has ended
Mr. Custodian, I am safer than you
Inside my casket from what men of life do
You polish my headstone, for that I thank
It won't weather or crumble, but what of that tank?
Though I have passed, I feel the plight of men
Mr. Custodian, take the hole next to me, God Send.

I can feel it in my breath
The brisk air filling my lungs
Autumn's embracing a season's end
Foreseeing Winter yet to come

Leaves are gathering at their mothers
Swiftly carried along the breeze
Colliding and combining into each other
They are sorely missed by the trees

Children with pink runny noses
Jump in neatly raked piles
Despite what their mother imposes
They are constantly filled with smiles

I am trying to find my piece in this
Where is it that I fit in?
Am I just a leaf falling amiss?
Where's the pile I fit within?

I'll slowly leave my branch
Gracefully slide through her fingers
Coming to a rest on her hand
Dry up and die but forever linger

Chapter I - I Carve Mountains
In vain or not
You will be stopped
Cast off into my words
All the discrepancies
That connect and bind us
And always blind us
But i will take your hand
You can take your stand
Words form platforms that carry you
As my thoughts incite, Oh they do, They do
Carve mountains with my pen
Chisel away my friend
The bridges that depend
On every hook and letter
For worse or better
Opinions of you
Whispered in ink
Shouted in melody by the strings
Vibrating on my life
Notes casting stares at your face
Along the musical line, they race
They know you
All too well
Oh they do, they do
So please excuse my faults
As i decide to figuratively tear you apart

Chapter II - I Dig Lakes
Ah, but if I carve mountains
Then i also dig lakes
Pits, Hells, Natural and Man-made
The abundance of all resources
Centers around my calloused hands
My unforgiving metaphors and similes
Shift and shape my doctored land
As my skies fill with the brightest of blue
The darkest of seas wash over you
God-given or not, this power has no control
I can try, Try I must, Engulf me whole
As my own seas carry me onto new land
Embracing the warm comfort of a new hand

Chapter III - I Excavate Graves*
I say my last goodbyes
As you're lowered inside
The grave I excavated
For your fidelity belated
Fantasy of ideas and love
That i once believed in, but never was
And with this metal shovel, I bury
Your mountains and lakes, Oh how i worry
For your conscience and points of view
Of everything that i wish i once knew
I cast you out onto your own
This is the life you have sewn
Raze the bridges and all that i've built
Everything with the stroke of a pen, i willed
Flatten the snow-capped mountains which i've carved
The soft landscape changes, So very far, So very far
Fill the lakes with your lies and words
Everything between us that has occurred
With the flick of my hand, I will evolve
Create and ultimately solve


This riddle.

Take my hand and hold on tight
My hand: the string, my heart: the kite
Let it float and flutter in the wind
Let it shine before the sun gets too dim
Instead, you tugged and pulled it down
Metal stakes barred and pinned me to the ground
Attaching a metal key and a note
"My love for you always dies" you wrote
Soon clouds formed in the sky
And once again, you let me fly
Ascending higher and higher until it was struck
By God's good flicker from above
The kite's wings burned and turned to ash
This day in the field is now a day of the past

Grasp and twist the cold bronze
Do you push or pull?
Swinging effortlessly on hinges
Do you push or pull?

Take a deep breath
Take a far step
You're learning
You're returning

Stumbling through the doorway
Do you walk or run?
Loud paces echo the halls
Do you walk or run?

She's there on the other side
Twist and push the stubborn wood
Waiting and calling your name
The breeze slams the welcome behind you

Bright yellow lights at dusk
Floating along as if they must
Cheer me up, They do. They do.
And the stars are out, so are you
We can lay and forget our problems
Under the moon, I'll forget when
June finally makes it's entrance
Replacing my feelings in May's absence
Camp fires, bon fires, fireworks.
They light my summers, Oh how it hurts
When will I see you again?
My sweet summer love, when?
Let us not worry about that now
We will see each other, don't ponder how
Now it is unbearable, August
Soon you were swept up in a windy gust
Into the hands of a forgotten season
I hope he makes you happy for any reason
September, screams the calendar
Haven't found anyone worth your caliber
I tell myself I must erase
The image in my mind, your face.

July purposely was skipped,
As it was the time, you and I ripped.