I love it when you love me.
not just through word of mouth, telephoning,
writing, emailing,
I love it when you love me,
with your presence.

your proximity,
compels me to you,
its as if once near to you,
I'm possessed,
lost in a world,
I never knew could exist.

How my body aches,
for your warm loving touch,
you take me higher,
like a machine being driven to places,
you take me to places.

I'm so deeply lost in you,
for you have ways of making me feel needed,
I can't explain it,
but you amaze me..
your love for me makes me happy.

I fell asleep against
the stained glass that painted
the ground with colors that
children only see through
the lenses of kaleidoscopes;
vividness that blind men
only see when holding the
warm hands of their lovers.

I woke up to the bells
singing tunes of the eschaton
and the priest muttering
damnation upon the half-empty
bottle of Jim Beam resting in my lap.

"Want a swig?" I asked with a stagger.
"No," he replied.  "Whiskey is the devil's elixir

and besides,
there are plenty a bottle of Christ's blood behind the altar from which to choose."

I felt low, down and ashamed
The real description of my pain
My troubles were enough to run me insane
The mind-twisting happenings were no funny game

The pressure and tension came everyday
The loyalty to God still remained the same
The zeal for more of Him surely came
I was built everyday, by my confession of the Father's reign

I heard the angel of God call my name
Redeem me, heal me from my inner pain
For this very good reason he came
To help me get up on my feet again

I listened to what He had to say
Absorbed as words slowly came
I began to understand His way
Listened as he recited my name

"Don't give up, my friend
Not after all the efforts you've spent
The Heavenly Father has seen you repent
Be grateful for the misery has come to an end

The blessing of tranquillity, to you I bestow
My God the Father, shall save you from sorrow
The time has come for you to reap what you have sown
Your humble heart enabled spiritual growth

You've proven to be obedient,
listened when you were told
Instructions have been sent,
For there's much more to unfold
He bought you at a price, for your life you sold.
Your submission has earned you eternal gold"

Excitement lit my face as I heard the angel explain
His visit was to bring a remarkable change
This life I live was never the same
The wonderful works of God.. were worth more than any fame!

I'm not afraid of the dark--
I'm afraid of the light,
that stealthy insight that looms overhead and slowly
envelopes my mind:
equal parts consolation and condemnation
of the decisions I've made and the dreams I've deferred
until tomorrow,
always tomorrow.

I can't sleep till midnight
because my mind insists on activity;
my whole being validated by three lines,
or three words,
whatever I write I become; I see.

What would you say
if I told you I count to twenty,
three times in a row after I hit snooze five times,
that I lie in bed, ruminating my failures
and the impending day,
resolute and domineering,
like an aged, hardened war general
who refuses to answer to, "I will not, sir;
I cannot do that, even for you,
or my country...sweet land of tyranny."

I think I find some meaning
and solace
in the minutes that beckon to morning
and hold fast to inevitable recycling of failure come freedom--
for, we are no longer chained by our fears when we forget
perfection.

I'll never reach that star;
I have no ladder that steep,
or hands that far reach,
outstretching past my own soiled skin--

tears that bleed.

It's that moment right before I fall asleep;
the seconds that feel like minutes
and the minutes that seem to drag
in between shallow, steady breaths.

That little eternity after my eyes close
and my body settles into stillness.

That slow and silent drift,
hanging in the space between
reality and dreams.

That far away feeling of falling,
heavy but weightless.
Numb.

It's in that dwindling descent, that
infinite moment

that timeless forever

that you
love me.

In my search for YOU
I want to lose myself...

I went to our place.
It was rainy.
It was cold.
It smelled of peaches;
the thing you thought of,
when you thought of first kisses.

I went to our place.
It was rainy.
It was cold.
It's funny how fast
that peach can mold.

Funny, how sometimes butterflies
skip over your skin without ever landing,
how basketballs spin
around the rim without swishing,
or how things never seem to work out.
I’ve been wishing

for moments of high tide, gravitational
moons that would draw me to you,
in the middle of May on Coney Island.
I want you to pull my pigtails like it’s preschool.
I want to bleed neon, shout pop tunes
to accompany my words that sound like
a poem we all had to learn
to recite from memory.

Funny, how we store meat behind our popsicles
in the freezer, how we tear up things
before we throw them away,
or how defeated we feel when we wake up
to zero new messages.
I’ve been reaching

for the plug in the drain,
sipping champagne,
hearing your name,

when all I really want is lunchboxes,
the kind your mom leaves notes in.
I want to beat you in four square,
color on my Converse, catch crayfish
in the creek behind your house.

Funny, how we tone down our souls
to fit the mold, or interview each other
based on pieces of paper when we are
alive, and breathing, and it’s funny
how we save money for next time,
plan for tomorrow before we’re done with today,
count our accomplishments before our scars.

Funny, how all we ever wanted
was to finally be exactly where we are.

My worst enemy and tireless companion
finally came to my door last night.

As I slept away the time of day
And killed my poor friend Time
He traveled closer to my home.

As I slowly cowered in the face of fear
And realized my mistake too late
As I chose to make a silly choice
He quietly opened the door.

Shame came in but didn't stop
And with every tear that welled up inside
He crawled in hot into my cheeks.

As the salty drops burned away my skin
He then moved on down to my throat
And choked me up till air was gone.

I gagged and shook, begging him to go
Openly admitting my sin
But Shame knew he could do more
And as I watched my world crumble
He eagerly attacked my heart.

As he dripped down to the hearth
He triumphed with his final mutation.
The pain of Shame is nothing
Next to that of his brother Humiliation.

There, in the privacy of my soul
He slaughtered my Pride with a blunted blade
As Sloth cowered in the corner.
When the room was red he finally paused
With a smile on his face at the lesson he left.

As he exited Responsibility came in instead
And from the door watched with sad eyes
Waiting for me to rise and finally apologise.