how much would i give to be a cat
my pendulum tail tick-tocking on top of the countertop
like the metronome that sits by the piano unused
(but the ghosts turn it on every once in a while
when they tire of standing behind my shoulders
at four a.m. when i am in love and cannot sleep)
with the rays of sunlight that erupt
in the morning, i'll sing 'til the door swings open
and feet will emerge, and on top of them legs
that hold body and hands to feed me,
all for me and
no other being will be as praised as i,
the king of the kitchen

I lost my inner poet
apparently she was last seen
just staring idly into space

She was sitting with her notebook,
gently pondering
in a quiet, tucked away place

I could only see the back of her
she wouldn't turn around
I so wanted to see her face

She was always so quiet
and very often reflective
working at her own steady pace

Not only am I left without poetry
I am also lost for words
she may have taken them all
along with my grace

The search will continue
maybe until the end of my days
as I fear she's left no trace

we were wet autumn leaves,
hanging side by side
from the highest branch
of an old maple tree
with a magnificent view
of city life.
the cold breeze swayed
us back and forth,
softly pressing us together.
you admired my yellow tint
as i loved your red glow
and the thin veins that
spread throughout
your delicate body.
it was all perfect enough
to make of forget
that autumn stood for decay
and to make us feel
like we were infinite.

7.17.14

I’ve come to meet you here, in some sacred place
to be here         alone    with                    you

beautiful waker:
luke deep eyes opening to the moonlight
awake
-
But not alone
because I sit with you beneath the thousand gazes of stars
I hold you close with my ears
this golden hour    ))))       between    ))))        trees,  
throwing your voice
with the crickets

waiting
for the space between us to throw it back
-
Individual, but never separate at the smallest level of things,
sharing together the energy of multicolored levels

-
and we remember, making our way through the dark:
-
this world is unforgiving
and we were wild and alive,

                                         in this place I have known you always
-
In this place, I keep for you
The secret of the leaves

We are not alone in our despondent footsteps toward a truer North
but, I will help pave a path for you and your losses

unfold the pages I had folded
kiss a bruise underneath my hand
relax with disappointed youth onto another
and tell me, that
you don’t enjoy being lost inside all that passes

it is here, this sacred place
we throw our burning hearts into the empty creekside
and we build better homes at the roots of trees

the sky is no longer surrounding us
the birds look to one another to retreat home
we both put things in our pocket without noticing the other
a low roar of emptiness from one point to another
in the distance it is clear that all you know is relevant
and I say, to myself, these things,
and you say to yourself, these things
no one else could know

and you would say; out loud
  
“I loved him”.
and I would kiss the silence that came after
because I still love too

fever in your honesty,
pulling teeth from the names you carry
woven in your clothes

I sit alone with you
spreading the silence that reaches from our toes
outward into the
dark