Arrival**

And yet one arrives somehow,
finds himself loosening the hooks of
her dress
in a strange bedroom--
feels the autumn
dropping its silk and linen leaves
about her ankles.
The ****** veined body emerges
twisted upon itself
like a winter wind . . . !

Spring And All**

By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast -- a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees

All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines --

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches --

They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind --

Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf

One by one objects are defined --
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf

But now the stark dignity of
entrance -- Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted they
grip down and begin to awaken

My mentor was your friend
He spoke so animatedly of your passion and humor
You were the single light bulb in a closet of clutter
I wish I could've experienced your soul
I was told you were bright and kind like the morning sun
No one knew the dark cloud behind your golden rays
You were my father, though you never knew it
Showing me that father figures always had my best interest
Your shadow hasn't left us
We miss your smile, genuine or not
It hurts me knowing that I'll never get to make you smile back.

So much depends upon
The open sky cut open by the trees
By the rain by the lives that we led

Upside down we stood as if for years
Waiting to become the person
We were meant to be
On the back trails of our open heart
So much depends upon

Listening to Bach in the dark
How poets undressed our sympathy
In clothes of the absolute

So much depends upon
The sound of Mandarin like
Circumstance, and stillness that never dies
These were the cries that we reached
Out for, as if we could grasp the light

So much depends upon
The dreaming of what is possible
And prowling around the people
Whom we let hurt us in order to
Learn more completely how to feel.

they say the saddest
are the most happy

how a comedian can
stand up on stage to
make himself the world’s fool
because he had never
heard of a joke like love

our lady of perpetual sorrow
grabs the fool from everyone
a leach of life that chooses
to choose a happiness like you
extracts all it can
like nectar to a bee
but it’s almost relieving when
it had no where else to be

i have begun to believe
life isn't about all the
joys to feel and
things to see
it's not about you and
it's definitely not about me
the illusion is that
greatness is up and
failure is down when  
true progression doesn’t
care for dimensions

remember the comedian
who hates it all
who makes it funny
because he recalls
if i can’t be happy
everyone can

Coming and going, like a lucid dream. Ebbing and flowing like a rolling stream. The good and the bad. All rolled into one. The happy and the sad. Give this life it's fun. It's hard I admit but its worth it. I swear. So grab your life by the horns and do what you dare.

-AJ