4/23/2016

"Speaking of batteries,
what's the positive in this? Negative?"
she threw out there, lithe little

extensions of her hand palely wrapped about a martini glass stem. It held seltzer and ginger.

Long Island City, Queens
twinkled cobaltly, covertly, in the
harbour

incognito, morphing into the sky
in the gloaming.
"All those people," I said, ignoring

the question. I always ignore the question. "So many. But this city
so cruel and brutalist and impersonal."

She shook her head,
stirred her cocktail stirrer
the mint sprig moved to the bottom

of the glass.
"As opposed
to what?"

with sweet intent, I shall coax a smile
with titilating words and a face awry
for such beauty should not be deprived
of ridding the angst left inside

these foolish gestures of a fool, seem insane
they're only to unlock all your constraints
for those glowing eyes and purt lips be not contained
and allow us to admire the canvass of colors you paint
remain

He isn't the moon,
But its sultry glow

He isn't the sun,
But its shine

He isn't the clock,
But its time

He isn't the hands,
But the holding

He isn't the poem,
But its rhyme

He isn't love,
But my heart

He is
walking the white line
his arm a repetitious arc
sounding a single tone
timed to the pace
of hiking-boot feet
treading the pavement.

Saffron robes have grayed
over long meditative miles
witnessed by curious commuters
riding the pendulum away
from his purposeful daily counterpoint
the freedom held
in rhythmic ritual

how the mind stills and gathers
in the swinging blur of hand and stick.

I roll the window down
seeking precious solace
as I hurtle past
knowing
he walks for me too
I want to stop the car
fall in behind

feel the timeless drum
the stillness of salvation.

I decided to ride the slide sideways

Letting my feet hang over

And one edge guide my neck

I went straight down for a second or two

But with my eyes to sky
I didn't worry

Rather, I just enjoyed the view

I retrace my steps
Pacing back and forth
Twice over and over
Clenching my palms together
Holding in breaths of air
Exhaling as I take another step
I start questioning myself,
'Surely you're going crazy?'
I exchange common courtesy
With my own self
'Yes you surely are sir',
Breathe in, breathe out
Inhale, exhale,
Looking into a mirror
That hangs above a vase
Filled with decorative roses
'You look good?'
Questioning myself again
'Oh yes you do, sir' speaking
to my own voice once again.
'Do you deserve to date her?'
Interrogating my own mind
'I don't know , sir'.

The door opens,
'This is the moment
You've been waiting for
This is the moment
That the course of your life
changes', I tell myself.
She walks through the door
Her pretty eyes that she claims
is 'an optical sight and
nothing more'
Oh but I knew it was more
It was her soul
Completely and so utterly
Beautiful.

Her beautiful eyes meet
my ordinary dull eyes.