I want to make love to a poetess
To caress her perfect metaphors

I want to taste her salty vowels
To embrace her nouns with care

I wish to kiss the lips of rhyme
Spread the legs of time

I long to lay on her haiku
Watch her image shine

I long to watch the ****** unfold
As each poem penatrates

Then we will complete an ode to love
As we watch the endings mate

we all rely on the gravity that pulls us back into the earth when our heads are caught up in the clouds. the world is one gigantic living and breathing organism that latches on to the beliefs we so speak. but what separates me from you are the barriers that position us in places where we're out of reach. and all i desire for is to be able to meet you, see you and acknowledge the fact that you are real.

i move from place to place until i lose count of all the people i encounter and i feel as if we may have crossed paths on the streets or the grocery store or daily hour. i'd be lying if i say that i never get tired of searching for you every day but i believe the world moves in mysterious ways so that one day those walls will crumble and disappear and everything else will fall into place, and just maybe you might be real.

i drag my feet across concrete and daily routines often forgetting that the world is indeed too unfathomable to explain. you could have been that person gazing out the window of hotel rooms or vehicles. you could have been the person in front of the line, counting your change before making your way. you could have seen the scars on my arms or my vacant eyes and how you wished you could have approached me in some way that wasn't odd for you and i. maybe you could have said hi. but such acknowledgments are often dismissed with eye contacts and smiles, sometimes not even our senses could be leaned on. our true intentions disguised with glances, subtle hand brushes and complete negligence.

quickly enough, you are nothing but just a stranger walking past me unknowingly with only the thoughts of daily routines clouding up your mind. you may forget the order of things and misinterpret a stare as elusive, wishfully hoping it could have been an introduction to a greeting. i apologize for not initiating on to the next step and only admiring how lonely a human being could get, standing alongside me and many others yet our bodies seem to respond only to each other intensely but subtly to the eye.

we both know the holdback is agonizing and we wish for the day when we would be running our fingers through the rubble of the walls we tear down. for now, what we believe in will remain as thoughts. the world will always contradict with our stream of desires, dreams and feelings. you and i may not know of each others' existence but everything else on this earth is alive, living and breathing, and in time i will be able to look at you in the eyes and know for sure that you are all that is real.

n.j.

He calls me his Queen,
And I have a piece of me,
Not ready for him.

Hidden in the shadows
In the light of the moon
Is a secret born in the inception time
The whisper of legends
The Truth in the tale
Alive within dreams
A reflection of souls dancing
Diaphanous in the rays of the sun
Like lingering cold
As mist succumbs to the warmth of morning
Never to be found when looking
Unseen in plain sight
Wrapping its equal
In a swaddling of peace
Only to be known as two become one
A whole felt before
Only in the shadows of dreams
Eternal by design
Known in this realm
As a myth, as magic
But this is the only truth
Created as one soul
We are all that there is

Started off small.
The world in our hands.
Four years pass.
Like a camera flash.
Boyfriends, parties, now we're in my car.
Road trips, "I'm glad you're my friend".
You're unique and I'm consistent.
I understand you.
You appreciate me.
Soul-mates.
College, drinking, smoking.
I'm in your house with no one home.
Depression, obsession, times are changing.
You're drowning.
Your eyes are clouding.
I'm on the shoreline watching.
I'm throwing rocks like life preservers.
Waiting for you to catch one.
Blinded.
Undecided.
Sitting in the silence.
Waiting.

The sun with its
Fingers of ray
Caressing and dubbing
Thawed the ice,
Which a brook,
Soon bubbled
Forward to advance!

When will my
Lovelorn and
The frost of loneliness
Congealed soul
Begins to liquefy
In a way
Description that defy
Fine-tuned to
A soul mate's voice
And enticing eyes
With a heart
Engaged in ecstasy
Choreographed dance?

A grey goose above me
Calls strident-high,
Alone and looking down,
While I walk toward the lake,
Looking up to find
His silhouette against gray sky.

We're miles from town
On a middling winter day,
Shortest hours of light
Within the year.

We two are lonely here.

Skies gray promise
Neither rain nor snow;
A warming wind is blowing;
Perhaps the silver skiff
Will melt again,
And let the grey flier in.

Where are his loved ones?
I'd like to know;
And why he flies alone,
Scanning from his skimming height,
And yet I think I know.

I used to hunt his kind,
To lie in wait beneath a blind,
And rise to meet
Descending flocks,
Wings set,
Until I knew
The goose I'd brought
To ground
And the goose above
Remained inseparable,
One mate for life,
Death do them part,
And after, live alone.

A chill is setting in tonight,
And I am heading home;
A fire and my wife waiting.

Some comfort as the evening ends
I hope the grey one finds,
In the company of friends...
I'd see he weren't alone,
If I could make amends.