the bitter cold grates against my nerves
a pleasant sound, not unlike
that of a violin

Love is what I feel in each breath, in the
synchronization,
                and in the punctuated stillness
     like sun through blanketing clouds

The air in this room is






                                     heavy.

It's hard to think with you here
It's   to     with     here

It's so quiet out here
Pitter patter of snow drops
On my eyelashes

This cold is different
Purging my qualms with
Stillness.

If it were heat I might fall
Sapped of my strength
Overwhelmed by warmth

But as is
I embrace the chill
Ease back
And for a sweet, long moment
I am lost
Among the white
On the roof.

I'm tired all the time now
Heart rate above average
Sometimes I could swear it is ready to stop beating
Strange arrhythmia waging war on me

And my clouded mind.

High tide, high
time for an afternoon spent
chaired, head up and fallen, eyes
open and closed to the fresh list of
life goals: to marry, live surrounded
by nature, spin songs, pluck
poems, to be a good
grandfather

and how best to get there is a
matter of opinion

no sense lame-
nting about the era or
frowning at the tele-
vision that's gone
blind from so many
tears shed over
nonsense, no
senses to eat
out this hollow
mind the fire, you'll
catch cold this
fall to the
leaves

Christmas lights wove a
rainbow across the trees where
I sampled sound tonight

^

and you, in your far-off wonder, I
believe your mom was smart in allowing
us memories to refresh our smiles

^^

love, you connect my days, string
hope 'tween the branches that grow
overwhelmed with sensory
reflection at the most
inopportune times

^^^

I know you still, so
thoroughly glad we continue with
our lovely living story

Speak
       to me I'm
    sleeping away what's
   left of the day and
           there's been nothing better
          since I've known so
and even though
       I find it fairly new I
                  really like you.

On the eve of the
    time when I saw
          you in lights
              there arises a feeling of aging

      am I yours, are you mine, there we
                   are holding hands spending
                       time that will let us (someday
                                    we'll settle down)
another year,
        another number written
                  on a sleeping page
             (they've gone and shaken awake every
                      dreaming soul to ask them what
                                    it is you could be calling
                                                         ­ me to say)

  talk about the house that we will
                    buy and decorate to
                              be our home

(I like to picture us there on our own)
                        it keeps me focused
                        and warms my bones
        look how we've grown

It's as easy as life, this
chronic rebuttal and no
matter how right you are
you're always wrong placing
bets with your own ******

It's as easy as life, but
who's to say life is easy?
certainly not those who have left
and gone on to bigger things; they'd
like to believe in all this in retrospect
but things should be simpler.

It's as easy
as easy as life


guessing is not easy.

Comfortable breach
together while the
trees listen

Magnolia leaves, the
thick wax coating

(this was always meant to be sweeping, the kind that
rips apart continents, scrounges
mountains from crumbs)

always meant to borrow your breath, stolen away like
fingerprints on eager skin and then brought back,
wondering where hearts fell in, the
luster of warmth

meant to learn the
magnetism from colors and
preserve proximity, stretch
away solitude

(and I have found none of this to be
anything short of a miracle)

You used to laugh (and
    pretend my spiny sweet-gum
       words would cringe at the very
  brush of a lifetime), but
                     our seasons are changing
                (everything is all at once an
                  unwavering green), adopting
                      breadth of iceberg proportions
  
    (we dance around forever.)

Skip a beat
It may do you some good
To stray from the all too familiar
DUBDUB
                  DUBDUB
                        ­            DUBDUB
And pursue a different rhythm
Maybe something like
XEE
        QUA
                  SINXX
We are not who we say we are
Merely reflections of what we try to
Leave behind
And to spread goodwill
Without finding it first
Is to blanket the world
With chaos
And turmoil
And love
F  O  R  G  E  T
love
it remains in the corner, utterly
P            T          S
  O     N    L    S
       I             E
And destructive.

We need to talk
over a campfire

need to love under
a moon

to warm beside the glow
of shared dreams

burn on,
unscathed

Razor-tipped pencils that surgically
               slice patterned pages
Soft brushes from fingertips like afterthoughts
                    puddling atop pillows

There's something to be
said for a vision of water
endless soup and hey we
might as well be floating
for lack of depth.

Take everything as it is, child
I will not be here forever
Sad as this notion
Kisses your forehead, let it
Whisper words of hope

And welcome them in
And welcome them in

For even among these darkened days
There is a glow about you
That must not fade

Preserve your innocent ideals
Retain your thoughts
And know they amount to
Far more than you
Might have imagined

When put to practice, child
Your ideas and your light
Can burn the world
In a fire that warms, soothes
Holds, and comforts
All who question the nature
Of human love

We are merely shadows of
Who we might have been
Darkened puzzle pieces
Floating downward
Inside a cool glass of river water

Seek out others
Connect and share
Each one of us has something for the other to gain
Each one of us has in his or her possession
A glance, a word, a whisper that can
Change the life of another

Do not hide.

Time is precious as is
We would do good to not waste it
And stop your clocks now
Heartbeats will suffice

Amidst the lies, the pain, the turmoil
That most harbor
Let your light
Your love
Your inspiration
Flourish, rejuvenate, and make whole

My sickened heart


But I am not alone.

There are others who have endured far worse than I
Who have succumbed to their addictions
Who have lacked the support and love I found
Where I would have least expected it, and
They need you more than I

Go to them
And make right
What only you can.

Who else has the time to
       Spin for an hour in the entrance to
       a national bank?

A small thin streak
Barely distinguishable from the stinging sweat
That accompanies dedication

I suppose the current circumstances
Touched you in some way
So as to let this pioneer free himself
And blaze a trail down your cheek
Glistening in the morning light

I wish I knew what it was that
Stimulated you to shed some of your
Burden, which even now weighs
Heavily upon your shoulders
Shrouds your world in a
Melancholy gray

Do me a favor.
Call back your adventurer
If he should not answer, so
Fascinated as he is by the soft landscape
Introduce your mountain of a
Smile and block his path
For good.

Warm water softly rinsed away all fragility

  a future, open, a fresh scent
    
       You were there when I awoke
             and I always remember

               the shades of light this world allows
                   only when we're together

Power face
      Adrift between shadows

      oo
     l    m                   purple pedals
   B       s            

Split down the middle
                (Lemon wedge)
    Rhythm and knowledge and

                                    Humanity brought to a flower
                           So it wilts with the
                             weight of the world

Don't let your thoughts get the best of you;
Cuddle the dog.

In a moderate, questioning tone

          She whispers

    What do you think would happen if we dated again?

                I think it would be the same melodrama as it was back then.

And in a soft, resounding murmur*

           He answers
  
     I don't think so.
  
                 Not this time.

And what if I told
      you the world was on
           fire like a burning man,
        absorbed in his work,
              painfully turning to
                     productive ash

could this truth light
       the words from your
         lips, warm my
      sentiment as if
                  ignition is perpetually
                       within the scope of
               time like a teacup
           slipped under the table

I'm not going to get better
It's not like that
This disease doesn't go away
There is no cure

But oh, there are symptoms
Paranoia, cynicism, and distrust
To name a few

I've heard it's my burden to bear
A toll for artistry
Which I tolerate, that is
Until the next bout sets in

Like now.

Now I am driven to madness
What a ******* up world we live in
Where nice girls turn into tweakers
Where people never change
Where we will always rather drop the bomb than talk it out
Where people hide from their feelings

That is what you're all afraid of, isn't it?
The kinds of conversation that spin out of you
Are remarkable
You'll talk of anything save the things on your mind
Fearful
Fearful of what?
Directness, no, we cannot have that here
I would much rather discuss
The grazing habits
Of a cow

I'll just get as much music and writing out there
As I can
Before I combust
And rejoin the nothing

The room
Halogen bulb
Clinging to a wire
Flickers
As if to illuminate the
Thick fog of desire
In the air
The wire
Frayed but sound
A conductor
Of forces far beyond its comprehension
A helping hand

We stare at the wall
Sturdy beyond imagination
A goliath of brick and mortar
And contemplate its destruction

Reality bites
       sinks long curved narrow pointed teeth into a daydream
  drags it to the ground, rips away
     flecks of joy flying in all directions
             generous splatters of hope on the wall

and it is done.

Precious minute.
Don't pass me by without filling
The crevices of my mind with reason, purpose
Please don't leave me before you help combat this rising
Tide among the leaves,  as time flows like water
The seconds laugh away

Cheeks upon faces I fail to remember
By red walls that shimmer, set back in the dark
How trivial is laughter, how plain its acquaintance
When speech in itself fails to hit the true mark

I wish I were born as a small bit of plaster
That I'd patch a hole in the side of your heart
To live as a part of you for ever after
And grow old and die without drifting apart

Impossibly close, I'm
beginning to believe you were
actually here with me, dreaming
away all doubts

We're at a ball, a masquerade
Hiding behind the shallow disguises that we ourselves have made
Out of the fear that we should ever be
Sub-par, unwanted fools who play the game by the wrong rules
Unknowing and intoxicated slugs

Away, the fear goes when you are near, love
And this song I hear, it can't be simpler to me
I am not who I want to be
Oh, no no no.

We're at a dance, the high school prom
Oh god, oh no, here comes your mom
With cameras blazing, intent on capturing each and every moment
Head's spinning all too much
Perhaps they really spiked the puch
Around, around, around, around
Inside

Away, the fear goes when you are near, love
And this song I hear, it can't be simpler to me
I am not who I want to be
Oh, no no no.

We're at a concert, music bash
Here comes the snare, here comes the crash to
Rouse us up when we've let go and follow up killer guitar solos
Head banging, purple lights, it's just another crazy night
We'll look back on in 20 years and laugh

Away, the fear goes when you are near, love
And this song I hear, it can't be simpler to me
I am not who I want to be
Oh, no no no.

It is a slow, sad rain
that falls today

And I do not define
myself by the weather

I saw you in the clouds today
A wispy summer hide-away
Tonight I've nothing else to say
I saw you in the clouds today

This afternoon I felt your hand
It made me tremble where I stand
Dreaming daylight, waking man
This afternoon I felt your hand

(In early hours I miss you most)
Out from the distance, growing close
I miss your heat, I miss your nose
(In early hours I miss you most)

One day soon we will be there
Together in the crackling air
And maybe all we'll do is stare, but
One day soon we will be there

Wait between the poles like fingers of forsaken blue accusing a painted sky
Lonely color cast aside to film across a water like light spread thin
The ink abandoned in lazy dribbles
Clouds riding muddled indigo

Wait for me there.

call me kindling
but I want to light a fire
in your eyes, a deep cleansing
burn to douse right-side up,
brightly

symphonic voice

held fast, dripping senses
(scoured streams if only)
lifting
off the sky and placing this
beneath rocks in cool blue
water, tentative red card-stock
hearts warmed up like heated
mattress covers in a soon-to-be
natural and slow-melting cottage

tethered happily to your
waving dock of
chamomile acclaim

Slid into base this morning
Are you safe? Am I?
What a terrible umpire when
I foresee a triple and you just
End up sick

Fly to the highest oceans and let's
Gel in the trophic zone

To place so much on a
drop of amber is foolish and
perilous and brave and wonderful

Somewhere in the middle of a ceaseless rain's drum
That led to your forehead smoothed under my thumb
And shivering stopped by a single warm hug
I felt (for an instant) the depth of our love

Old cars and older voices, time
begins anew (with awake) in
the afternoon, chords and
bronze-coated companionship, long-
dead limbs singing, with

not walking but
floating as a mantra in the
dark, wanderer of these
expectant streets disheartened
by the home scoreboard

Sock-less in the winter turned
spring for fear of
                  freezing over

      every inch of
          things you treasured and
  couldn't wait to leave behind

              just months to go and
still
no snow-white to
build upon blazes
that come with new faces
and
kindle friendships as
roads are
dubbed exceedingly dangerous

time is a friend to those who
tri-p-let their way to the flatness of
it all, world and walls waiting
for a




break in the traffic


waiting for a sunspot in the year's
star mural,
                    wandering in parking
                    lots where people hint at that
mysterious intersection of dreams
and the sensory

Beginning to look at such things as
internships and career choices, influenced by
"best places to raise children" and "quality
school systems", by parks and sunny
afternoons and artist representation
firms

I only wonder when the frosting on your
lips will turn into berries from our
thoughtful garden
                                (surely life is picking up
speed and painting on layers, colorful
intricacies of present and future)

When was the last time we
took pictures with every
intention of holding onto them?

it might seem small in comparison to a
global movement for peace or campaign to
end world hunger, but an afternoon and a
handful of memories can go a long way

and sincerity ices the cake

tough love

scrawled in tall black blocks
on smooth limestone

Today the world flipped upside down
          like a teapot out of balance or
                      a warlord out of steam
    and our structure in all of its dense
                crystalline time

              s   h   a   t   t   e   r   e   d

        to the music of clouds, gobbled up raw earth
             and breath and water and choked
                    out a little ball of us, perfect and
                productive
                                     ­   it had no place here so
                      
                            today the world flipped upside
                                 down to shake us off like
                                    the ants we are but
                                          forever drifting through
                                                      daydreams is
                                                             nice because
I enjoy your company

There was a boy named Jack
who wanted to be an artist
but his parents wouldn't hear it
past their deluded visions of grandeur
doctors, lawyers, businessmen
it was in the cards for Jack
had been since he was born
and the cards don't change

Jack made it through each bleary day
mixing paints from eggshells he found
outside the window in the hill
only he knew about
and when a smile flickered on
his face, it wasn't staying long
at least until once he's alone and he
can be himself, as if
it was in the cards for Jack
had been since he was born
and the cards don't change

and while he grew he came to see
Jack as is would never free his
life-long dreams from in this cage
so Jack soon lost his hope to anger
within the pleasant walls because
it was in the cards for Jack
had been since he was born
and the cards don't change

then the day Jack found a gun
lying on his pillow with a note
from an angel to let him know
he's holding up the party
and six minutes later the
walls were painted red with
Jack's new-found freedom in
joyous ******* slashed
diagonally across the
flower print
it was in the cards for Jack
had been since he was born
and the cards don't change

Shot in the
    light of achieve-
         (meant all the world)

filibuster then, fill your heart until you've
     busted, down and rusted and
            caked with regret
  
  never stand between yourself and
        falling, or love will grow hot like
   shower-heads turned too far, like
       grainy distorted sight streaming out our
                  smiling ears, ceaseless cerulean

    (I'm dull gold, and you
       said you liked polishing)

The fingers of my soul reach out to you
Across this distance
Searching, hoping for
Something beside the point.

To be quite honest
To throw it out there
Twitching
In the streets
To be squashed beneath
Thoughts deemed more important
In this instance
In this moment
To bare the heart of the feeling
Anticipating a knife
To slide into this innocence and
Stop its nonsensical beating
To sum it all up,

I miss you.

Glass.
It's all so much broken glass
Cascading over old wounds

Numbing self-awareness

To numb we travel
To all else.

Your hand reaches down
like a thousand raindrops to
outline my tired skin