I've seen too little or too much
To be close to you like I've wished for months.

A long time ago, when we were young
My brother used to be a funny guy.
He could sometimes break me up a bit
Without really ever seeming to try.
So, one day, when he asked a favor;
I could tell because he wasn’t snarling
He batted his eyes like some movie star
And ended saying “Hunchy, lumpy, darling.”

Now all my brothers had Missouri drawls
And, it turns out, they never lost them.
No matter what I or teachers would say
They drawled no matter what it cost them.
They didn’t really have very much regard
Or use for the propriety of the King’s speech.
It’s almost like good grammar and prose
We just a bit too far out of their reach.

So, I wasn’t surprised I failed to understand
This strange request from my young brother.
After all he talked just like relatives, neighbors,
And most of all, sounded “Jess lack his mother”.
But this one time I had to stop and ask him
Would he please repeat what he asked me,
Because for all I was worth, at that moment
His meaning was blithely slipping past me.

His answer, you see, started me right off
On a hunger for rhyming, slang and puns.
My lifelong romance with games and wordplay
Had accidentally, but quite solidly begun.
Because Hunchy, lumpy, darlin’ it seemed
Was saying his way to me, “Honey Child,
Lambie Pie, Darling.” I got it and I screamed.

I laughed and rolled around on the couch
And took it instantly into my grabby brain.
That one little misheard bit of movie-talk fun
Hit me as hilarious and worth saying again.
I’m sure he picked it up from the TV;
Something from a forties comedy movie.
Thinking it was a bit glib, he purloined it
And he was right, I thought it was groovy.

I want to wrap my arms around you
I want to hear your sweet little laugh
I want to feel your breath on my lips
I want to be there when you're sad
I want to hold you when you're mad
I just want you to be here with me

Love her and hold her
And give her the world
Because she won't always
Be your little girl

little things
consumes nearly the whole of our soul....
storms...blizzards....draughting one's hopes...
in the midst of all the chaos
little things survive...
their essence resonating our minds ...
reminding us of His presence...
the storms will pass....
the giants may fall....
but wading through them all...
little elements of joy linger.

this thing that I do.. or, anyway, try to do,
this continuous babble gabble, with sprinkles on top,
this day-to-day quest,
this poorly timed choreography,
this #bro, #nohomo, #gay thing I do with my brain and heart,
this endless wine powered whining habit of mine,
this desire to know,
this curiosity and unceasing need to find out,
this joy of seeing your face every day in the mirror I use for shaving once in a while,
this midnight torment,
this heat and cold feet feeling,
this skanderbeg with the ****** inside my right arm,
this everlasting need of being pushed to the ground and all of the climbing that comes afterwards,
this fight club that I invented in my own apartment,
this bad scenery where all the bad quirks are lost,
this family reunion around a blue Facebook table,
this Christmas compulsion regularly displayed,
this recital of random thoughts,
this list of contacts,
this Friday evening pathetic chorus,
this fear of rejection and hope for what will come,
this weird structure of one's feelings,
this flat choice of words and bad timing,
this spurious urgency for acknowledgement,
this "me feeling" for me,
this firm handshake with a smile and maybe a hug at the end,
this thing that I do is called, in a strange way, #love.



and I can say that there are only few moments when I have my regrets for trying to show it,
like a little girl does with her skirt, lifted above her head

The actor on the screen of our favorite show has nothing
on the way the TV glow graces your skin.
And the vibrant sunrise pales
to the green and gold peeking out between your tired eyelids.
There is no comparative to spilling words into your chest
in the quiet darkness when neither of us can sleep.
And the warm fizz that fills me when you pull me
just a little bit tighter
and press your full lips to the base of my skull.
I wouldn't trade that little smile that tugs at the right corner of your mouth when I kiss the left for all of the big things in the world.