what have the drunkards told you?

that you were beautiful--
different, gentle, pure
while they were busy
vacillating, you found
yourself whole among
their stormy seas, a tidal
wave bearing down upon
choppy waters where sailors
are lost and boats are sunk
ships full of diatribes and
bitterness, crippling resentment
folded into the bathus --

What have the drunkards told you?


to be less, to dissolve, to speak expressly in
salt and ***, come down from the hill, from
the towers, from the lighthouses where you
poured over the bounding main
learning to be for others lost
what have the drunkards told you?
mixed and unbecoming, double minded
and hopeful for your body


but testimony seeps out from beneath your dress
and some men are scared of lights and lamps
of flowers pressed into the walls, quiet and
unassuming, of stair steps and bookcases
without books

be the light
be the light

I'm a sucker for top hats and trench coats

Won't somebody smart take me home tonight?

Let's get coffee down the road

Or swing in the playground

Like the good old days

As women,
we can learn to love anyone --
taking them in as our children,
but to fall into love is another matter
that involves not a mother's choice,
but a man's wisdom:
to love himself,
to care for his woman,
and to plan for his future,
rather than to be the child of his woman
who must sweat each day away
with the worries of his worship.
All a woman yearns for is his affection,
which a man is most hesitant to give
at times when he must show strength
in place of grace,
and anger in place of empathy.
Even as these things roll off his shoulder,
a woman may continue to love tenderly,
for that is what a woman is;
born into life to comfort those in need --
whether child or man, monster or husband,
she cannot resist
to allow one evil spirit to leave this world swiftly,
untouched by the hands of an angel.

Unfortunately, opposites do attract,
& I had to learn this the hard way, five different times,
before I realized,
I need what I do not want,
& I must learn to want just that -- what I need,
or happiness will never follow fluidly;
only lust and tears
& many late nights and stomach aches.

Some things are not
What they seem
Is it a river or
Is it a stream?
When only perfection
Is seen in the eyes of love,
All is tender light,
But when love is
Doused in reflection,
Who are we really
Thinking of?
What is in sight?
A selfless act
Refracted by a
Selfish acquisition,
Which withers away to
Nothing, from its
Original position.
What heights,
We walk
To appease our hearts,
When hearts
Are almost never appeased.

And when I saw the light, shining so bright…
More and more of it each day and at night,
I watched as it grew, and I knew only
Growth could go on forever and always…
Never looking back at the daunting mist,
At eye-level with stench, my nose could not
Smell like my eyes could see; I knew what
I needed to be, but what wonders could
Push and scream, when things are not what they seem,
To bring a reality from our dreams…

You split in two. One of you has a gun, and the other: Nothing. I look to the empty you for hope. Hope. Hope. Nothing. You look at yourself, and though sight shows two entities... No mirror. Are you there? Fire! Perfectly centered. Lead in your face. Struggle, then surrender. One body down. Who else? You turn on me and I fear you. I fear nothing else. Who am I looking at? The Devil, for God is dead. Hope. Prayers and unrequited wishes. The barrel on my eye. Remember, I bought a 9mm this summer. I shoot first, because I was always the brave one. It is me or you. Me. All hope lost after timeless waiting. Goodbye love. Freedom deserves a chance. Whether together or alone. No stop signs on busy streets. Goodbye love.