Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

Hear my words, let them steep into your soul,
Unlock the door, serve them your finest wine
Life is full of strange beauty, this I know

The demon will come, but you will be fine
The angel will come, just never on time
Unlock the door, serve them your finest wine

Life is the time, and living is the crime,
and the beauty in living is simple.
The angel will come, just never on time,

her wicked wings will scare off the sickle,
Simply living is beautiful itself,
and the beauty in living is simple,

easy to do with good wine on the shelf,
I’m at a loss for a better adage,
Simply living is beautiful itself,

This is for those of you who wish to live,
Hear my words, let them steep into your soul
I’m at a loss for a better adage,
Life is full of strange beauty, this I know.

You liquify me.
I want to be that cool drip
Tracing down,
Down your neck
Pooling into your coves.
I want to be that cool
that ravages your insides,
Making you quiver.
I want to be that cool drip
Heating up from your shivers.
I want to be that cool
That makes your heart drop
From a single gasp-
I want you to feel me when I'm gone.

dreams long lost
swirl around me

in the shade of Arjuna
winds sing a lullaby.

they never die
bide their time
in the cave of eye
neath layer of rhyme

don't the rustles fall silent
yet canopy of new leaves
grow above

crave the same firmament
and away from old griefs
seek new love?

in the winds' murmur
i would never touch them
the seemingly lost dreams

but quietly in the hopes' harbor
rekindle their flickering flame

and let flow in endless streams.

There will be so many
I disappoint that I,
content,
do not heed.
My mother —
Who cooks when I am not hungry.
My sister —
who frowns at my blemishes
and plucks my unibrow ferociously.
The poet slash
musician slash
magician
who calls me to ****
when his calendar is empty.
I bailed on them,
like the similes that no longer serve me,
like the poems I tossed as therapy —
You know —
The ones spun from circular conversations —
gut feelings supplemented by text messages
when you're half paying attention,
half wishing the space between buzzes would lengthen.

There will be so many irked that I,
content,
remain unresponsive.
They wish my mouth wide open,
drooling,
trained to heed queries,
They pull my time like teeth,
Blinded by the sting,
I can’t see the point
of fearing their disappointment.
Because there will be so many I disappoint,
but I, at peace.