I waited…
Waited for the music to stop
So you would stop all your dancing.

I waited…
Waited to get your attention
While the attention was on you.

I waited…
Waited my turn to be seduced
While you seduced another man.

I waited…
Waited for the dimming spotlight
So the spotlight could shine elsewhere.

I waited…
Waited on your flirtatious kiss
While you kissed every man that night.

I waited…
Waited to partake in your lust
While my lust played me as your fool.

I waited…
Waited for the music to stop
So I could stop fantasizing.

Between the sheets, in perfect peace,
The back and forth is synchronous.
The movements slow but never cease,
Then rise with violence amorous.

Between the sheets, yet closer still,
The lust for love becomes sublime,
One slides in to the other’s fill
The coming moments beyond time.

Between the sheets, the eyes roll back,
The light caress has now dug in,
Moans interrupted by a smack
Of rhythmic impact skin in skin.

Between the sheets, in unison,
The lovers’ gush of spirit meets,
Their finished glow beams like the sun.
They lie alone—where are the sheets?

To touch her nakedness with my own
was to take our most human moment
and suspend it higher than the stars
where human beings had no right to be.

To kiss her while we met in bareness
was to transcend our humanity
and in our most ****** pleasure
feel totally unconfined freedom.

To make love with nothing between us
was to make humans’ humanity
and have the two come alive as one
where life itself is understatement.

Remember well, O breathless kiss
While melting oneness in your skin
Soulful eyes of passion’s abyss
Hold me close to the dream I'm in.

Trembling hard within our embrace
Fearlessness settled on your hips
Tenderness spread across your face
The Heaven found upon your lips.

The whispered comfort in your ear
So satisfied in binding trust
Broken down walls that brought us near
Two souls beyond two bodies' lust.

Ne’er more perfect did two unite
Released from tortured fallacy
Compassion roused to star the night
A night surpassing fantasy.

There was a moment, so unexpected,
When I woke, seeking just ordinary,
Resigned to loneliness, unconnected,
Our encounter—felt imaginary.

Seeking isolation, no need for lust,
Appreciation gone, beauty no more,
Passion burned, with eyes I no longer trust,
You—a seduction I’d not known before.

Pulling back from feeling, and nakedness,
All the beauty, futile, unrequited,
Choosing instead dullness, and wretchedness,
Our spark—an extinguished soul ignited.

Recoiling, fear, cursed sexuality,
Libidinous impulses, uncontrolled,
Bare, on altars of sensuality,
You—inviting love I cannot withhold.

Kiss me, hold me, bring my love in deeper,
Forgive me, embrace me, don’t let me be still,
Touch me, and own me, and be my keeper,
Your look—I resisted, but have lost my will.

Let not this love fall into discontent,
Nor my eyes accustom to her allure.
Let not the sight of her cease wonderment,
Nor my passion bore with beauty demure.

Let not my lips stop quiv’ring for her kiss,
Nor my fingers ache for her velvet hair.
Let not my arms embrace with avarice,
Nor my desire leave anything to spare.

Let not her beauty ever be passé,
Nor my heart not yearn for her naked breast.
Let not making love miss a single day,
Nor lying beside her allow us rest.

Let not me take for granted her boudoir,
Nor my love for her wane even a bit.
Let not my lustful eyes ever look far,
Nor my body ablaze become unlit.

Your seduction has been unfair,
Though you could not help it, my dear.
My heart melts with the thoughts you share
And aloe smoothness of your hair.

Executed so ruthlessly,
You constantly seducing me,
With love given innocently,
You did it all so carelessly.

I’m smitten and I can’t let go,
Seduced by all the things you know,
You made my desire overflow,
Just by affection that you show.

I’m a slave to your seduction,
Mastermind of will’s abduction,
From our very introduction,
I was lost to your seduction.

Floating away with stardust in my hand,
Pieces of sunshine with nowhere to land,
Basking in lightness I don’t understand,
Holding stardust is like love in my hand.

Carrying stardust wherever I go,
To hold with me a bit of cosmic glow,
How it shines so bright I will never know,
Sprinkling stardust is letting my love show.

Kissing the stardust around my head,
Sleeping with starlight beside me in bed,
Into the darkness it’s lit where I’ve led,
Following stardust to true love ahead.

Needing the stardust as much as I do,
Alive with glow of energy new,
Its glorious aura in all that’s true,
Loving stardust, my star, that stardust is you.

What could compare to that first kiss?
To the expectation of bliss?
Testing the softness of her lips,
Awkwardly touching noses’ tips.
As her pink lips open a touch,
As you slow from pressing too much.
The first time that she tilts her head,
You touch her cheek with words unsaid.
The first time you slide down her chin,
And she lets your upper lip in.
The dream you had seen in her smile,
Is there for you to stay a while.
You taste her and smell her perfume,
With feeling too much to consume.
Sugar has never been so sweet,
As when your tongues finally meet.
You don’t need to open your eyes,
Each movement’s a perfect surprise.
Tongue and lips touch delicately,
With powerful intensity.
Love at first sight waited for this.
Nothing compares to your first kiss.

Dear God I’m overcome.
I know no other way.
I’ve heard it works for some,
So finally I’ll pray.

No reason to rejoice;
I have so many needs.
So God, just hear my voice,
And please ignore my deeds.

I’ve never asked for much,
Or anything at all,
But my issues are such,
It’s You I need to call.

I pray for better health
(My back is always sore),
And if I had more wealth,
I’d probably pray more.

If you could help my son
To make the soccer team,
It would help him a ton
To realize his dream.

So what else should I seek?
I’ve never prayed before.
If I sincerely speak,
Then You just give me more?

To pray this easily…
I’m not sure what I mean…
Is prayer supposed to be
Like a vending machine?

God, forget what I said.
This prayer is not the best.
I need You in my head
To make any request.

I should not seek Your grant,
Without seeking Your grace.
The unrepentant can’t
Come to a holy place.

I think You’re there to find.
I feel I’m on my own.
So let me clear my mind
As I approach Your throne.

I want to try again
But this time not for me.
Your concern is for man.
Prayers not for “I” but “we.”

If You send the world peace,
Our needs are not a must.
Give our ego release,
And please just grant us trust.

You’ve seen this mortal man,
And things I never saw.
Whatever is Your plan,
I’m humble and in awe.

The act of prayer itself,
If prayer is to be true,
Will purify the self
To feel closer to You.

I don’t pray to save me.
If my sins You forgave,
Then I pray just to be
Worthy of being saved.

Did you know when you posed for that photo
That it would represent my sincerest dreams?
Did you know, posing, letting yourself go
That you would represent all of love's themes?

There's a picture I can't look away from
With simplicity of your innocence.
There's a picture of what love can become
With simplicity, strength and elegance.

Your lines and curves and perfection of shape
Transport my soul and take hold of my gaze.
Your lines of your chest o'er shoulder and nape
Transport my soul to see beauty and praise.

You are the picture I paint in my head
Of beauty that only exists in thought.
You are the picture I dream of in bed.
Of beauty that I have forever thought.

Raindrops on my face.
The harder it rains,
The more I erase
Why I am crying.

Raindrops hide my tears.
The harder it rains,
The less are my fears
I’m weeping in pain.

Raindrops on my face.
Each droplet obscures
A tear in its place—
Hopelessness or joy?

Raindrops hide my tears.
Each droplet obscures
Having to decide—
Why am I crying?

These precious raindrops
Leave it up to me.
The confusion stops.
They are tears of joy.

Mistakes have names we hope to never speak:
Anger, lust, jealousy, selfishness, rage.
Mistakes are words we bestow on the weak,
Or the young, as we get better with age.

Mistakes are pseudonyms for impatience:
Insecurity, coldness, raised voices.
Mistakes describe us when we don’t make sense,
Or too immature, to grasp our choices.

Mistakes are identities we mistrust:
Ego, narcissism, self-loathing, shame.
Mistakes we avoid and avoid them we must,
Or we thought, we must forgive all the same.

Mistakes may come from dissatisfaction,
Or frequently just, overreaction.

A snowflake’s lifespan, once but a droplet,
Now infinitely a unique object.
Oh, lucky snowflake! You never compete
With other snowflakes. You are formed complete.

Oh, to be so born! To become my own
Arriving on Earth, meant to be alone.
You lucky snowflake! You have no power
But grow beautiful, to live an hour.

You are not long here, made of winter chill,
But precious snowflake! Do hold your shape still!
I am so common, never quite like you!
Each of you snowflakes, are a snowflake true!

Of frozen water, from the cloud above,
You became special, one and only love.
To live snowflakes’ lives! What would I have felt?
None would be like me, but too quick to melt.

What choice have I?
Presented with my dreams in waking light.
What hope have I?
I could not resist you with all my might.

What choice have I?
When looking at your face makes me crumble?
What hope have I?
In your stare I forget to be humble.

What choice have I?
When the years denied me beauty like this?
What hope have I?
When I’d given up on the perfect kiss?

What choice have I?
You’re fire and light of the brightest star.
What hope have I?
I can’t believe just how gorgeous you are.

To love the dawn.
Not the sunrise,
But the moment
The black, gray world
Morphs to color.

To love the dawn.
Not the daybreak,
But the dark blues
As they emerge
To make color.

To love the dawn.
Not the morning,
But the changes
From the dullness
To a pale sky.

To love the dawn.
Not goodbye moon,
But hello life,
When greenery
Gives way to red.

To love the dawn.
Not hello day,
But a rainbow,
Every dawn.
Birthing color.

Crying and comfort, hugging and gifting,
thoughtful with time, and being uplifting.
Embracing each chance to do what I could,
and doing it because good feels good.

Giving advice after I’ve lent an ear,
and choosing to serve who most needs me there.
Save each damsel in distress if I could,
and doing it because good feels good.

Being a friend in stubborn defiance—
I’m the one in whom they place reliance!
Some may not think I should act as I should,
but I only do good that feels good.

People don’t seem to get the irony.
Such goodness erodes some humility.
There is no deed, good or bad, that you would
do if doing it did not make you feel good.

Eons of water dripping on a stone
Altered and absorbed into creation--
But I need suddenness of something known
From Epiphany and Revelation.

Realization's not slow and steady,
Rather spontaneous elevation.
My need to learn demands I stay ready
For Epiphany and Revelation.

Show me no small lessons that life presents,
But insight with dramatic sensation!
Life unfolds in a series of events
Of Epiphany and Revelation.

Even silence is thunderous rapture
Triggering profound imagination.
Knowledge springs from the wisdom I capture
With Epiphany and Revelation.

Who I am today is a product of
Awe in my moments of education.
It's these times in life that I've learned to love--
My Epiphany and Revelation.

Masterpiece of curvaceous precision,
Artwork sculpted and delicately lined,
As beauty’s natural definition,
She is the mold for all womankind.

The redness of cherries based on her lips,
Honey envies the sweetness of her tongue,
Waves aspire to the curve of her hips,
She’s more seductive than any song sung.

The trees model fruit on her perfect *******,
While sunlight was made to mimic her smile,
She’s sensuality that never rests,
Longing for her dwarfs the length of the Nile.

Butterflies wings are no match for her eyes,
Her embrace is lighter than clouds above,
Her perfect beauty makes me realize,
She entered my life so I’d fall in love.

Regret caked on my skin like sticky mud,
Bathed in the stench of my mistakes and sin,
My conscience drowned in pools of bile and blood,
With no forgiveness for the filth I’m in.

The angels that God sent each turn away,
Divine, but not enough that they’d succeed.
Angels on High fear for their own decay,
For only God Himself could meet this need.

O God, redeem this lost and worthless soul!
As on the day you moved across the deep!
Or sheltered Moses hiding in his hole!
“The LORD! The LORD!” you showed him your mystique.

You promised me my sins you would erase,
Redeem me, God, and move across my face.

A circle.
Two enclosed in endless togetherness.
A square.
Two aligned and side to side as equals.
A triangle.
Two begun far apart destined to meet.
A rectangle.
Two beside each other through thick and thin.
A rhombus.
Two as equals leaning on each other.
A diamond.
Two joined at the sides in perfect balance.
An oval.
Two turning as one with each the focus.
A trapezoid.
Two in parallel until they converge.
Amorphous.
Two can be as unique as love makes them.

No one knows me better than my demons.
I’ve been caring for them, nurturing them
like a parent afraid to see them leave.

My demons have remained faithful to me.
There is no part of me more forgiving.
I’ve fought with them, and tried to destroy them.

But my demons never abandoned me.
They’ve stayed with me, always speaking to me
kindly, with their gentle, sensitive voice.

My demons are my intimate partner.
At my worst and earliest suffering,
they arrived, eager to help me adapt.

My demons epitomize devotion.
They don’t have feelings for anyone else.
They only care about protecting me.

Sometimes, I try to confront my demons.
And then they just listen, like a friend should,
and offer to let me live without them.

But my demons know better than I do.
Feeding on self-loathing, the more they eat,
the more self-loathing I am to become.

My demons have figured survival out.
If I just choose self-loathing over love,
they will stay a part of me forever.

Sunlight shining, rested soul arisen,
Knowing there will be one more day given,
A day, an hour, with love every minute,
There until nightfall, anxiously in it.

Sunlight shining, eyes adjust to the day,
Knowing there will be light showing the way,
Light, love and learning to nourish my soul,
There until nightfall, my faith in control.

Sunlight shining, my best dreams seem less real,
Knowing there will be soft kisses to feel,
Kisses from lips, red with color of hope,
There until nightfall, my kaleidoscope.

Sunlight shining, and days past now feel new,
Knowing there will be renewal with you,
Renewed with life your love is adorning,
There until nightfall, but now good morning.

I arose slowly like the morning sun,
Consciousness begun as a bit of light,
To a place where the day and I are one,
Leaving behind the discontent of night.

The sun must have so much love for the dawn,
For the kisses given its sun-kissed rays,
Relieved the false light of the moon is gone,
Dream kisses pale in light of those by days.

The sun each morn smiles as its loves renew,
Warming dreams gone cold under moonlit air,
To dream of soulmates under midnight blue,
A poor substitute for you being there.

The best of dreams are gone without a trace,
When in the morn I wake to see your face.

Before the finch sings or the rooster crows,
before eyelids raise or the sunrise glows,
before the sky transforms from midnight blue,
I’ve already begun my thoughts of you.

Before the alarm’s ring has hit my ears,
before the fog of sleep in my head clears,
before the grass is soaked with morning dew,
the day has started with my thoughts of you.

Before I extricate myself from dreams,
before the birds bathe in the dawn’s sunbeams,
before the coffee calls for me to brew,
my heart and soul begin to call for you.

Before I can arise from where I lay,
before everything that starts my day,
before anything else I have to do,
my day’s begun with loving thoughts of you.

She’s in my field of view.
So what am I to do?
I’ve nothing much to say,
but cannot look away.

This beauty caught my eye.
It’s pointless now to try—
though staring is a sin,
I’ll sin and take her in.

This beauty sits so near,
that my world stopped right here.
Now life’s very essence
is simply her presence.

Perhaps I’ll see her smile
if I sit here a while.
But if she won’t it seems
I’ll see her in my dreams.

The enduring ephemerality,
Strung together moments of blissfulness,
Each fleeting in its temporality,
But feeling infinite in wistfulness.

The hands of time spin circles without end,
While memories live in moments discrete.
Some moments blur to a nondescript end,
Moments with you time will never defeat.

Events live so long as not forgotten,
Life’s meaning breaks time’s continuity.
With each breath a new time is begotten,
So time gone lives in perpetuity.

When timeless blissfulness is in the past,
The paradox of time still makes it last.

How many times can one hope to be saved,
After all the descents to the depraved?
How many times succumbed to sinful thought?
How often losing the battles he fought?

How often can he expect salvation,
When choice after choice is to damnation?
How many times can he ignore his guilt,
Atop the foundation of lies he built?

How many chances to apologize?
How much wrong can one man trivialize?
How many times can he find excuses,
For turning others to his own uses?

If he ignores needing introspection,
How can this man still expect redemption?
If one just loved him he knows that he would—
Being loved is all he needs to be good.

She lies there staring up at me
And I wonder whether my eyes
Know how lucky they are to see
An actual blessing from God.

She lies there staring up at me
And I wonder whether my heart
Knows that it’s heartbeat is precious
Dependent on this love I feel.

She lies there staring up at me
And I wonder whether her smile
Knows how much energy it gives
And yet I cannot look away.

She lies there staring up at me
And I wonder if her body
Knows the need my body feels
To be one with hers, head to toe.

She lies there staring up at me
And I wonder whether her soul
Knows how much I’m in love with her
Just lying there, staring at me.

Between last night and this morning,
Between the full moon and sunrise,
When dark descended like a sheet,
And heavy lids covered my eyes,

The stars emerged and receded,
Nocturnal hours ticked away,
A carpet of frost was laid down,
There between last night and today.

Ere dawn blackness interceded,
Taunting me, “Where is your light now?”
Yesterday had been locked away,
And I must start again somehow.

The nightfall came to curse the past,
I embraced it to block the shame,
Because soon the sun will come up,
And I will never be the same.

You know why time flies?
Because it never slows to stop.
When time hits you, it does so with a crash.
It hurtles into you with violent awareness.

Time doesn’t crawl.
It doesn’t walk. Or even run.
Time doesn’t unfold methodically, or slowly.
Time is an event. And another.

The arrow of time is a broken spear.
It’s not straight and not constant.
The present announces itself, out of nowhere.
Time is a measure of suddenness.

Time is revelation.
It is darkness speckled with epiphany.  
Time passes only when change happens.
There are no small changes in life.

The severity of wanting
Blessed wanting
Wanting to want
What you already have.

Feeling desire so haunting
Piercing desire
Desire desire
Love you already love.

An incomplete love lacks wanting
Cursed wanting
Not what it wants
More, less or diff’rent love.

I want a love I want to love
Love not wanting
A wanting love
This love I want to want.

How many parts? Transient…
Tearing apart? Permanent…

An angry one. Powerless…
It’s never done. Sorrowless…

The battle rages. Survival…
Till one prevails. Revival…

Is there a third? Unaware…
Has it been heard? Everywhere…

Forces at play. Unresolved…
Hear what they say. Unabsolved…

Fight for your soul. Unlivable…
Your self-control. Forgivable.

Impatient I found a love worth the wait,
Knowing lost love does not mean love is lost,
Heartbreak was just a detour to my fate,
Where all of love’s mistakes were worth the cost.

I waited to find love in full despair,
That hopelessness contrasts with love so sweet,
I missed the point when I thought life unfair,
I had to be prepared for us to meet.

Your love is what I dreamt that love would be,
Looking back my deep sadness seems so small,
Perhaps you too were waiting just for me,
Finally we found true love after all.

Patience had worn thin from each rejection,
Then you came along with love’s perfection.

The finch, awaiting the morning sunrise
lifts its beak in proud anticipation.
Darkness. The sun has forgotten to rise.
The finch waits for it in desperation.

To sing, to wake the world in glory’s song!
Why night, but for the finch to greet the day?
But dawn forgot to come; something is wrong.
The finch is lost, hopefulness fades away.

The sun causes the song of spirit freed,
his morning song in praise of all beloved!
The finch had grown accustomed to this need.
He’d never had to miss being so loved.

The finch misses the only thing he knew,
yet missing dawn less than I’m missing you.

No gust of hurricane or thunder clap
Can frighten me like just your single tear.
At once you cry and pain falls in my lap,
Afraid myself I can’t comfort your fear.

I have so many words but none will do.
Each tear you cry causes two of my own.
I would give everything I have to you,
Afraid you’d still feel in my arms, alone.

Of all the things in life I’m mindful of,
Each moment I’m alive I want to try
Reminding you you’ll always have my love,
So that you never ever have to cry.

If I fail and today brings you sorrow,
I’ll stay close to dry your tears tomorrow.

If I met my soul, wandering…
Would I even know who it was?

What of me would I recognize?
The pimply skin of teenage years?
Who says it has my color eyes?
My wrinkled face so on in years?

Walking with my familiar gait?
Which of my many styles of hair?
Would my soul dress in clothes I hate?
Or look like me enough to stare?

I’m not familiar with my soul.
Life’s only constant that I get.
The very thing that makes me whole
I’d ignore if we ever met.

My soul’s the me that I can’t see.
Strange here but in Heaven clearer.
To know my soul with certainty,
Know myself without a mirror.

I believe in telepathy.
Even if I didn’t I should.
I like to think you think of me
Each time I think of something good.

Since you are always on my mind,
Energized by our connection,
Across the ether you should find
Me in your mental projection.

I open up and let you in,
And turn my loving thoughts to you.
Each thought of you that’s ever been
Should cause you to think of me too.

You’re in my heart and in my head,
And as unlikely as it seems,
If I’m awake and you’re in bed,
My thoughts of you are in your dreams.

I thought that I had will until she smiled.
I always learned to act after I think.
But she empowered what I so reviled,
She’s my enchantment; she’s my weakest link.

I thought my nimble mind made me immune.
I planned to love along the way I think.
Rapacious needs of her my siren tune,
She’s my enchantment; she’s my weakest link.

My character would bear the love I bore.
I’d heed the warnings that my mind would think.
The hope to earn her love I couldn’t ignore.
She’s my enchantment; she’s my weakest link.

I’ll not again be as strong as I think.
Her undelivered love my weakest link.

She offers up stolen kisses,
Of pilfered lust from other men,
Of lips of empty promises,
To bare her nothingness again.

She clothes herself in nakedness,
Her basic need is to entice,
Her body is her sacredness,
Inviting men to paradise.

She has beauty misunderstood,
Her ugly inside permeates.
Skin deep she’s mistaken for good,
By fools that she humiliates.

She’ll gift a night of fantasy,
And all she’ll ask is for your soul,
She knows you’ll give in willingly
She’s mastered lack of self-control.

A broken heart is
A heart
That hasn’t forgiven
Yet.

Your forgiving heart is
A heart
That hasn’t recovered
Yet.

Your recovering heart is
A heart
That hasn’t loved enough
Yet.

Your loving heart is
A heart
That can’t be broken again
Yet.

A broken heart is
A heart
That doesn’t really exist.
Yet.

Loves sees the bands, colors of a rainbow,
And in their perfect stratification,
Begs to see more, what else there is to know
Between colors’ identification?

Loves sees the spectrum, red to purple hues,
Where seven colors, beautiful enough
Disguise preciousness hid within their views,
Vibrant colors the peak, love sees the trough.

Love sees beyond the discrete colored bands,
To join red and orange, yellow and green,
Blue intertwined to violet like held hands,
Love asks what magic is there in between?

Love sees rainbows, but is not satisfied,
That line between colors intervening,
Spanning the sky, but look deeper inside,
Love asks to see beauty’s inner meaning.

Carelessly crossing this chasm
For finding fallacy in fear,
Enter with enthusiasm,
Through thoughts that are thanklessly there.

Bringing bravery to the bridge,
Tripping over trepidation,
Pacing o’er pious pilgrimage,
Away from alienation.

Approach with awed anticipation,
The bridge beyond being banal,
To the valued validation,
Across achieving all your all.

Taking up this terrible truth,
Understanding what is under,
Spanning the other side will soothe
Being burdened by your blunder.

My love for you is defined by smallness.
The time before I miss you when you leave.
The space between our lips.
The connection of our hearts,
        No matter where we are.

How long before I reach out to touch you.
The space between our skin.
What we see in our future,
        Aligned to destiny.

From how we feel now to eternal bliss.
The difference in our thoughts.
Shock of coming happiness,
        Shrinks to ever present.

My love for you is infinitely close.
Together in every dimension.
Time, space and spirit.
Two souls once divided,
        Together in one heart.

Left-handed, a lefty, the other arm.
It is forgotten because it’s weaker.
The other, extra, the one with no charm.
If it were a woman, none would seek her.

The sinister and the clumsy left hand.
Derogated abnormality.
Like an afterthought that was never planned.
Its only benefit is symmetry.

At least I could have been ambidextrous.
Then I’d be capable on either side.
I want perfection, not a little less.
This left hand is a source of wounded pride.

When can the useless ever find their place?
This dangling vestige had made me bereft.
But then I found that someone to embrace,
And I saw the potential I had left.