Dusk is dull and gray
but the poet
will not break
his addictive trance.

It is not a romantic dance
of swirling fools
twirling to
a concerto
we all knew,

but a dangerous stream
going full steam,
a watery dream
of the unseen
unconscious
activity,

pushing and pulling.
Till, he stumbles, drooling
like a mewling fool
not controlling
his roving mind
but being moved
with its rapid taps.

His words are marked
with a metronomic beat.
His face is flushed
with the rushing heat,
a side-effect
of his anxiously
overactive mind.

Pushing well beyond
his normal bedtime
he writes
like a recovering
word addict
who he has relapsed.

There is a poetic beauty to sadness. Eventhough it nips at your heels, and stains your heart. Each painful experiance you survive has the potential to make the happy ones that much more precious.

You put your hand on my chests,
And gently pressed your palm.
I felt you move my heavy doors,
As you found yourself inside.

Dear daughter of mine,
i want to thank you,
for all the wonderful things,
that you have taught me.

Thank you for the sticky
chocolate kisses , the necklace
made of pasta and dental floss, for all
the hand made cards and flowers  picked from my garden.

you made me remember the way i was,
the way i danced in my room unhurt by the world,
the way i was falling in love with people i shouldn't,
the way i felt like the whole world was under my feet.

Oh deer daughter of mine,
i hope you stay the way you are,
my little girl with no worries and no pain,
with big mouth but with nothing smart to say.


I wish you the love that lasts forever ,
i want you to have a safe and loving home,
with good friends, and people who care,
i want you to feel the most wonderful things.

i wish for you to know what happiness means,
and that sometimes it comes only after pain.
I want you to know that everything has a price,
that you will eventually have to pay.

You'll learn that love is the most expensive thing,
and the cost is  your  time and commitment ,
And i will  teach you everything i can and know,
for the rest, i am sorry, but honey, you must do it on your own.

I wish you to be the best person you can
you have a lifetime of decisions that you'll have to make
so don't hurry to grow up, stay sweet as long as you can.

Out in time
to see the last bits of sunshine
as I walk to work.

The moon is just this side
of stained teeth yellow
but after the night clouds clear
the white light face reappears.

A dark blue or black car
slowly drives through
like it is stalking me.
So, I move on as quickly
and quietly
as my anxiety
and feet allow me.

Thin dry brown vines
wrap around the black fence,
while the lite green
slowly dehydrating
leaves
line up on a broken tree limb
ready to fall
for the seasonal crumbling.

A ***** brown bearded stranger
lays in the doorway
perhaps he is
too tired to worry about the danger
or he is too drunk to stay awake.
His head rests on a white garbage bag
with indiscernible contents.

In an open-air café
two people talk
the night away
while a stranger sits
nondescript
on a black bench.
The patrons leave a tip
but the stranger grabs it
and swiftly walks away.

Strangers hold hands
and walk.
Stranger stare in the distance
and talk
on their cellphones.
Strangers do not make eye contact
but it is their silent plea
for some humanity
that makes me smile
and greet them politely.

Until, the night leads me
to where I work security,
an overnight shift
perfectly fitting to
my desire to be alone.

In meeting and seeing her
my heart brightens up
like my headlights do
piercing the darkness
and shining through
to clear the heart killing clutter,
opening the dusty shutters,
and letting her smile
peer through to my
deeply entrenched defenses.