I've held so many women,
More than I can count.
But if I had to count.
I would say four.
And then I would say one.
My brain would say four.
My heart would say one.
I've only held one in my heart.

And she hates me.

I want love...

to take me out to dinner
to introduce me to her mother
to be my only lover

I want love...

to be the sweet fragrance on the breeze
to share her childhood memories
to smile when she sees me

I want love...

to bring about a change
in public hold my hand
to be the one who understands

I want love...

to be the warmth inside the sweater
the one to make it better
in any kind of weather

I want love...

to be that special moment
to know what I want
and when I want it

I want love...

to be the morning new
the glistening of the dew
the yellow sun in sky of blue

I want love...

...to be you

what if you were empty
and i was empty too

and we lay together
for just one night
underneath a cracking sky?

swollen raindrops
would fall
and land on our smooth skin

you would lose the bet
that i thought i would win
and i'd whisper to you
my greatest secrets
and all my fears
and you would murmur
to me under a falling star
your own

and it would be enough
that one night
wouldn't it be?
it would be worth an infinity
because time
is just an illusion
and just one night
twelve hours
is forever
to me
when it's with you

The urge to knock one door
find access to one heart
get one eye to seek more
heal one soul from hurt

that gives all toil's reward
serves all labor's cause
when by touch of one word
is born one ponderous pause

one halt gives a priceless gain
one like a pure pleasure
one word blunts all edge of pain
makes rich of royal treasure

the poet craves for one audience
is not above the greed
lusts one mind's caring presence
one eye's fleeting read

create with no shame
create with no measuring stick
use only this:
everything that is done well
                           is good art

explore and excavate forms,
churn the ether

within you is the sleeping artist,
tap yourself awake,
yet be silent,
be intimate,
with the unconscious plateaus
with in you

be intimate
with the making
and the doing,
the fertility
of creating

you will require silence
to allow for reflection,
communication

Childbirth is noisy, messy,
Birthing art is different

understand your language,
mine it, taste it,
it is your play dough

avoid the chronic,
habit is slavery

collaborate for
there in nothing new
under the sun,
but the constant rediscovery
of the old
in new forms
when ideas are exchanged,
every partnership is a solo

Experience anew,
Each time,
Say:
This is my first time,
This is my first work

I do not need your validation.
I validate myself
and in doing so,
who else
comes along
for the ride
on our tide?

create with no shame
create with no measuring stick
only this:
everything that is done well
                           is good art

Be Fertile and Radiate