something was missing.
a vacancy of purpose
lay within my soul.
until I caught your glance
and for a brief moment,
I suddenly felt whole.

I didn't believe it, at first.
my jaded mind fought the idea.
but the emptiness began to fill.
this wasn't a lustful impulse
something had begun,
and it was real.

the proof was in
your words,
your smile,
your loving touch.
your humor,
your laugh,
I could not get enough.

our lives began that august night
under a star filled sky and pale moon.
I am a 'man' today made better, forever
and it's all my darling,
my Love,
because of you.

~~~

I suppose I wouldn't mind waking up to turquoise skies
painted outside the window
When I'm dreaming of you,
I sing to the mirror like I am serenading a paramour
but it is nonchalant, almost fearless,
with my voice still in a tumble of organs and sleepy phlegm,
finding its way out
My fingers turn the faucet on, and the sink streams water out with the slight whistle of the pipes in the background
It's the beginnings of morning,
in the sequence that those prime-coloured skies ensure

-cj

What will we tell our children
About the what is that is no more
The air that we breath that we can actually see
Standing in a puddle that's acid cured

We've stepped out of our boundaries
In self righteousness we have grown
Trampling on this sacred ground
Crossing the line of the unknown

No use in crying a ***** river
When the flood gates have been broken
Drowning in the very sorrow
Of what's been left unspoken

With the world now at our mercy
What is there left for us to show
Where the innocence that we once had
Left these parts long ago

So again what will we tell our children
About the what was that is no more
How do we explain that we're to blame
For the life they can't enjoy

I wrote a haiku, like we did in elementary school
that was forced writing,
syllables counted and not meant
now they are the oars I row with
amidst this sea of gloom
and hormones
and worry

-cj

hallowed and punctured
misshapen and desert dry
gambling for smiles wry

-cj

A piece of green pepper
fell
off the wooden salad bowl:
so what?

feeble ribs
caressing porcelain  
hearts

ink dipped tongue
every word he
uttered was
poetry

she painted him
with hues of gray
leaving a piece
of her crumbling
soul in each
stroke

his sleepless nights
spent with
pencil smudged
fingers
trying to find
the words
to describe her

they were 2:00 am
lovers
with blemished
hearts trying
to find love
in each other

~ am