little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

And some days
I don't want to die
But rather
Dissolve
Sublimate
Melt
Until I am one with the air
That which you breathe
That which sustains
All that is life giving
All that is pure
In it,
Through me;
A wish.

Love Came to Us
  

  Love came to us in time gone by
When one at twilight shyly played
And one in fear was standing nigh -- -
For Love at first is all afraid.

We were grave lovers. Love is past
That had his sweet hours many a one;
Welcome to us now at the last
The ways that we shall go upon.

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

Cling to your rhyme through high water and hell
The theme is set up in the opening line
That's what it takes to write a villanelle

Let your intentions ring out like a bell
Just fit the structure and all else is fine
Cling to your rhyme through high water and hell

Three lines a verse, make sure you use them well
So sense and structure gently intertwine
That's what it takes to write a villanelle

Impatience at this point can start to tell
But do make sure you stick to your design
Cling to your rhyme through high water and hell

Don't let the rhythm rush you on pell-mell
Just let your words emerge in measured time
That's what it takes to write a villanelle

And make sure that the message you refine
Simple is good, excess the biggest crime
Cling to your rhyme through high water and hell
That's what it takes to write a villanelle

No moon for the city lights,
From on high hill I look down,
I'm a boy,
I'm a child,
I'm a boy,
I'm a child,
I'm a boy,
I'm a child...
Children should not know such things,
Of loss and pain,
And sadness,
Insanity,
Madness...
Of destruction
Of self,
No child should have to hide,
I should have never grown up so fast,
And still I remain,
I'm a child,
I'm a boy...
No boy should be this man,
This man of tears,
Broken hearted man,
Man of many fears,
No boy should be me,
Having had to see,
How every support fell,
Sending my on my knees,
At the gates of hell,
No boy should plead with the devil,
Should have to face the flames,
But if the devil was a father,
That's not quite the same...

washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
  out again
  I write from the bed
  as I did last
  year.
  will see the doctor,
  Monday.
  "yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo, head-
  aches and my back
  hurts."
  "are you drinking?" he will ask.
  "are you getting your
exercise, your
  vitamins?"
  I think that I am just ill
  with life, the same stale yet
  fluctuating
  factors.
  even at the track
  I watch the horses run by
  and it seems
  meaningless.
  I leave early after buying tickets on the
  remaining races.
  "taking off?" asks the motel
  clerk.
  "yes, it's boring,"
  I tell him.
  "If you think it's boring
  out there," he tells me, "you oughta be
  back here."
  so here I am
  propped up against my pillows
  again
  just an old guy
  just an old writer
  with a yellow
  notebook.
  something is
  walking across the
  floor
  toward
  me.
  oh, it's just
  my cat
  this
  time.

Because life's to short
and trying is to tough
Because hearts are to frail
and life is to rough
Because failure is just defeat
and never at all a lesson
Because sadness leads to agony
and agony leads to depression
Because this life is worthless
and it all means nothing
Because hope is useless
and its ever worth doubting
Because feelings are to much
and just something we don't get
Because our choices are faulty
and that we seem to regret
Because trust is uncommon
and never even worth while
Because being 'Deep' Is to hard
and one step seems like a mile

But the truth is beyond us
Its something I work for
A world without lies or depression
Or maybe even something more.

So I stagger forward
as you should too
In hopes that these miles
bring me closer to you.

Because all in all, I've fallen.
(This is the day I die, The day I'm forgotten, And the day I'm born anew)