How ironic it is
That we mutilate this earth
With the very substances
That bind it.

And how humorous we are
That we think
We can save ourselves
From us.

I want to be a pirate and sail the seven seas
command the open oceans
and bring
Poseidon to his knees.
Alas I suffer from mal de mer
the smell of salt makes me sick
I swear.
It seems I'll never go to sea
so
a pirate's life is not for me.

February,
It’s been a year.
I wait, but why,
You’re still not here.
I knew you once,
But never again,
So please, take me back
To the way things were then.

February,
Seasons change.
Things are different,
We rearrange.
You’re not the same now
As I believed you to be,
Please, become yourself again,
Because you’re getting hard to see…

February,
You’re so cold.
My heart is frozen
Without you to hold.
I remember the way
Your lips felt against mine,
The day that you asked me
To be your valentine…

February,
Where have you run?
It seems it was over
Before it ever begun…
You’ve been out of sight,
And I’ve been out of mind.
I guess you’re too lost
For me to ever find.

February,
Sorry can’t repair,
The damage that is done here
The scratches, cuts, and tears.
As much as I want to,
I can’t apologize,
For things that have happened,
You’re the one who told the lies.

February
I guess that’s it, then,
No matter what I say,
You won’t come back again.
I guess our worlds
Lie too far apart,
But know that you are always
A piece of my February Heart.

I think my grandmother is convinced
that my ovaries will shrivel up
if I do not find a man by summer.

She was married by 19,
and has always wanted great grandchildren
she loves buying baby things, children's toys.
Kindergarten is the golden age of life.
I did not date in highschool,
but if she saw me looking at a boy,
she asked if he was single,
and told me to ask him over for dinner.

When I hit University,
I found a sweet, mad, mess of a boy
and she was quiet,
but we went our separate ways,
she started up again.

Scheming, the unwanted matchmaker.
Asking if the piano player at church was single,
(he's four years younger than I)
and trying to arrange play-dates for me
with unwitting high school acquaintances.

She means well, I know,
but despite the hopeless Romanticism I harbor
I know I need time, (there are still open wounds),
to fall back in love with myself,
before trying to fall for someone else.

be direct
  direct me


have I not,
    but cannot more
                      be been strong for you,
            so I teach you to teach the power
of strength by daring to ask


ask me
   i will create anything it is
in my power
   to create for you
i will break anything for you
that needs to be broken

old poet old brok-en asking that you keep on
asking, I need nothing broke, busted but still needing you,
needing you whole for me to be whole,
from that hole of dark, we share different sides,
I need you creating
you anew

al green said
  no one told us about the sorrow
no one told me about today
no one told me about tomorrow    

if asking were my strength
  this deadly blind balance
would not be my act

but it is that you arrived here to survive here,
the balance is blind, but you are not,
you knew sorrow was a possible.
you want easy, I'll give you easy,
ask yourself above all,
what's next that
I want

answering
   l o v e...
i can answer
i can answer

*the old poet asks,
why is it this poem world always comes around to that
old tirade, that four letter word...the one you ask,
when is it
my turn, and I answer you twice,
for you asked and answered twice,
I do love you,
I do love you,
exactly as you are,
invisible but oh so visible to us all,
and that is why you must ask for
more, evermore,
never ceasing, believing this more
is due, due to you