This is a poem, about a character I know,
Moving so silently, as if air were her toes
An orange flash in the corner of my eye,
Hear the bash of something falling,
In the middle of the night

She stalks the bugs that float past my waist
Jumping through the air, killing,
Leaving nothing to be traced
A little satisfaction, before she washes her face
But before she takes her nap, there's flies to be chased

I hold this girl close to my heart,
She keeps my company, when I write my poems
Sitting on my lap, in the darkest of the dark
If you havent figured out, who this poem is about,
The honor goes out, to my feline friend
The one, who sits at my feet, and calls again

this boy
his eyes were the kind of gold
you'd find in a treasure chest
on one of your adventures.
his words were like the interstate
and his heart was bigger than
most boys'.
                                       and this boy,
                                       his favorite color
                                       in the spring time
                                       was green,
                                       because of the way his girl's
                                       eyes matched the blooming leaves
                                       this girl kissed like a hurricane
                                       and walked like lightning
                                       marking her path with her smile.
                                       soon she found another boy,
                                       this one more musically inclinded
                                       than he.
his favorite color in
the fall was brown
because of the way
a different girl's laugh
reminded him of trees.
strong and beautiful.
now this girl talked liked a whistle
and her presence was like a train.
he told her he loved her,
and she said she loved him too.
three days later,
she was telling another boy,
stronger than he,
those same four words.
                                       in the winter,
                                       his favorite color was white
                                       because of the way
                                       a girl's skin gleamed
                                       like the moon.
                                       he adored her from afar
                                       so as not to get hurt
                                       she saw him and left
                                       him a note:
                                                           ­  do you think i'm lovely?
                                       and he thought it odd,
                                       because how could she not
                                       see she was lovelier than the snow
                                       upon the roof tops.
                                       he ran to her
                                       and there she was,
                                       lips pressed against another
                                       boys, one much more
                                       handsome than he.
so thats why in summer,
his favorite color was red,
because that's the color
that was spiraling down
the drain in the shower
when he finally collapsed

                                                                ­                                 {l.m.h.}

Three years ago four words crossed the threshold of my ear lobes and hypnotized me into a comatose state. only to be awaken by the sound of their sweet puncturing i rewinded these words with hungry haste
rewind rewind
play
these words swan through my canals
  relaxed as they finally found a home once more;
a home they might have already unpacked in,
                                                            p­erhaps in another life.

As they peeled their cloaks and unfolded into the folds of my lobes they sighed with content,
for my revelation was their new beginning
finally finding meaning once again in a universe where you cant live if you don’t have money,
  a sick sweet sour fabricated fact that penetrates the core of their solar plexis
                                leaving them unholy when the money structure takes over
                                holy when thought towers once again

With the ability of a person to move forward these words do no harm inflated with hope perfection honesty, embracing a utopia,
a now reality that you cant find on your starched TV.

Three years ago four words locked in a brassy compass whispered to me change the way you dream the way you perceive and what you do everyday and make sure you let your feet drag the mud behind you as you tow through the thick swamps of hate on the uprising paddleboat plays of justice.

Without her stark voice without The wandering jewess, Jesus-like Judith playing spells on my ears life would not have found a place where it holds comfort in the tempest.
These words like a shelter are my umbrella
but no ordinary umbrella covers here no,
no this umbrella knows when to open its arms to pour oms down my neck when drops are warm like skin on skin
and sunshine is bold like in black and white stills.

When wine is under trees these words will reflect in the crystalline stream I found in my inner cosmos when I was fourteen.

The people will have risen and Cain will have been banished and lovers will still lie limpid and hungry for the words of the storm eyed woman to ring like bells in towers above their heads again.

They are looking for paradise but they don’t know they are already in paradise, paradise now, paradise is now
They are searching for the words they have already heard they just don’t know what has occurred and sweat drips down their stems as they run in their minds to the revolution that has already freed us from the legacy of Cain.
Not for all,
But for us.
      A revolution of the mind.

These words will wake up sleepers and make the banks run after the money no one cares about.
These words are almost too holy for me to say out loud in only one voice they play and in one voice they say,
“TO DO USEFUL WORK”
Those words sing like they are of the angels like they have wings
Those words take their homes not only in my folds by in the white blood cell donuts of my fingertips, defending me from the ****** that say art cannot be my food.

The wandering jewess, Jesus-like Judith carved those words out of freshwater pears for me to drape around my neck like the arms of an infant crossed over the nursing chest.
My fingers wrap around those words like they are the scripture they are the word of my god cleansed by the salt water winds of wooden ships rummaging for rapture and something more than themselves.


Sometimes, wanderers find a home when alphabet fingerprints find a match to their long lost story

And sometimes, the UV rays hit your lens just right so that you can pass through a prism and come out a rainbow

And sometimes, gumballs come out the color you want,

the one that you patiently cranked for.

We are a play
A constant spectacle

We are wrinkled foreheads
Ink coated arms
And frilly dresses

Cottons and silks define us
Bad haircuts destroy us

We are ears stretched wide with plastic tubes
Hearing sounds of scoffs and silent condemnation

We are male parts and female prints
Drawing judging eyes and ignorant fists

We are the wrong brand of jeans just once
Seeding carved patterns tucked away
Under the right brand of sweater sleeves

We are snap judgements
We are controlled independence
We are the humans trapped beneath

It's just an embrace.
but when you think about it
it's not even that.
Its just two bodies
coming together
for warmth.

But today was the hottest day so far.

Something about the way
your arms fit perfectly around my back
or how my arms effortlessly rap around your shoulders
or how my head and your chin fit like puzzle pieces
makes me question
if it was really
just a hug

4:00 am
And you know
I keep the volume up on my phone
Just in case you call.
Even change my ringtone
Before I go to sleep
To something that will wake me up.
It's stupid.
I know.
But I do it because
No matter what time it is
I always want to be talking to you.