Bury the

time of

past moments

that you

found yourself

fighting

against

the wind.



sit with

me under

calico cat

colored

skies that

surround

you like

a song

deep inside

your heart.



season to season

in doubt

return to

these pages

again.



and I

I always will

be here for

you waiting.

Walking like

old wobbly

peg

out of

it's hole



upon some

broken

game board

reality of

me.



open questions

in my head

fall through

me like

*****

water falling

through some

circling  cosmic

drain.



and for

ever in a

day,



I thought I

would be

the one

for you.



you window

shopped me

good,



and then

you just

walked on

by.



carrying your

lover"s

cross

and

leaving me



in  your

shallow

unkept

grave of



" I love

you, and

I love

you too"

There is

a perfect

buried treasure

in your

eyes,



and the

whispers of

mischief dancing

on your

lips.



you have

seen much

witnessed

more.



Your words

drip heavy

with regret

in something

other things

maybe not,



but I

will never

be one

of your

sorrows or

bottom holed

disappointments



for I will

always reach

to lift

your heart

anticipate your

silence

and then

just sit

like a

monk and

listen

and feel

your voice

fall over

me.



and when

you need

to be held

I will

hold you.



with the a

prayer that

I will never

have to

let you go..

Crinkled smiles,

leftover

******* jacks

buried deep

between my

couch"s

hot leather

cushions.


sticky fingers,

still moistened

from safari

adventures

from head

to toes.


chests rising

trying to

find balance

by taking in

big gulps

of air..


making love

with you

spontaneously

again and

again

on a sunday

afternoon.


is like going

to the

circus when

I was a child

.
big tops,

lots of goodies.

wild animals

dancing..

and carnival rides

that take

my breath

away.......

The dumb

bird sits

and sways

on it's

splintered

wooden bar

and sings.,


one song

one voice

over and

over again.


like a

prisoner

sentenced

somewhere

between

5-10.


parole not

an option

newspapers

and seed

cuisine


a blessing.


and by

some miracle

we share

the same

love life,


looking

out at the

world

between

bars with

no Walter

mitty in

our souls.


he has

no excuse

to this

evenings

night and

stars.


and I will

just wake

up one

morning

and find

him dead.


and envy

the dumb

bird

who never

learned


to fly.

I could

sit and

watch you

write for

hours,


bring you

glasses

of deep

red wine

and swim

in your

laughter and

dance with

the harvest

moon.


memorize the

curl of

your smile

the soft wave

of your

tangled angel

hair as

you sit.


to listen

to your

golden words

of love

and hope

and dreams

that go

beyond the

sky.


to be in

a daily conversation

with you

would

be the

dream of

what fairy tales

are made of.


to listen

to your

heartbeat

and strain

to give you

a glimpse

of mine.


only in

these quiet

moments would

I know you

best.


tell me

your stories

and I will

tell you

mine.


and you will

be the keeper

of everything

beautiful

in my life

and I

in yours.


from the first

poem I

read of

yours.


I felt it.


you put

a pearl

in my

heart


to grow.

A last

surrendered

slumber

in your

eyes

reaches out

to the night,


and all

the stars

in heaven

come to

rest over

you.


and I

come to

sit and

applaud

everything

that is

you,


and all

of the

wishes that

you keep.

and what is

to become

of your

midnight

thoughts

of wonder,


the skipping

and jumping

of calico

cats over

the moon.


as I

wish and hope

for your

joys and

tribulations

of faith.


tell me

your stories,


trust me with

your words

untethered,


let your

heart

be a

full flown

kite in

the sky.


stay here

where children

laugh and

poets cry,


and tomorrow

is a moment,


that we

hope will

never come.

The storm

tires into

the blackest

night ,



like a child

held up

way past

his evening's

hour,



And the

window pane

catches  the

lost souls

of fallen

raindrops

upon it's

slippery face,



the nomad

existence of

wayward

dreams,



hoping

to find the

bounty of

your smile,



the tenderest

of moments

in your

eyes,



and the

quiet place

within your

arms

safe and

nurturing

light.



endless thoughts

given and taken

sonnets of

hopes and

amazement

found here

in your eyes.



and the

questions answered

by the

who you

are what

you share

and what you

willingly give.



you a traveler

of hearts

me the

gentle

soul on

the window

paine who

reaches

for you.



and nothing

in this

moment

could ever

be more

when the



two drops

of rain

become one,



and the

Heavens

above kiss

us with

with evening

grace.

Bless the

time between

the loves

each of

us has

seen,



like little

windows peeking

into our

adolescent souls.



thousand miles

apart I am still

certain in

different times

in our lives

we dreamt the

same dreams

that we

held love

as a partner

tight under

blankets of

lust and

passion in

the same

light.



And in

that way

we were

partners too.



wishing upon

the same

stars kneeling

to the same

moon.



holding love

tight with

all of our

might.



somewhere

between wayward

dreams,



where we

cried all of

our tears,

and embraced

all of our

joys.



and you

were a

picture in

my heart



that I

knew I

would never

meet,



but somehow

I knew

in the

thousand

nights to

whisper.



yes I love

you too.

You traitor,

black haired

pirate

to my

heart,

leaving my

soul empty

blue,

blind to

even faith.


and it is

going to

be a day

that I

must say no

to the

morning.

sky looking

to spit over

these colonial

hills and

memories

of you.


that lie

like a raggedy Anne

doll with a

black cold

dead expression

upon it's

face.

now standing

next to

this iron

laid railroad

line.


I will lose

myself

again

in you,


in the  

next beggar's

town that this

track

will carry

me to.

unraveling

before my

eyes ,


in this

tangled yarn

kind of day.

Salt and
pepper
clouds begin
circling
overhead,

wind slithering
through the
grass deep

and ominous
like a serpent

spreading sin.

red leaves
brown leaves

in this

solstice

afternoon
burning
hot and

and then

hotter,

then falling
to the
ground
exhausted.

summer
scratching
at my
window
sills,

cracking paint

fading all

color to

white,

regret
taking
hold of
my tired
bones,

and throwing

them away

like day old

left overs

from a

funeral"s

wake.

my breath
shallows
uncertain

as if the
next one
might never
come.

sorrow a
shredded bed
I lay my
soul within.

no rest

for a love
that  dies

alone..

Put my

head on your

belly and

;let us

lie under

the grace of

this Christian

sky of blue.



Piece with

me all

of the wonders

and circumstance

and tell

me how this

life has

made you

you.



and I will

laugh and

celebrate and

dance through

your heavenly

journey.



and your

voice will

be a river

for me

to glide

upon,



and your

hand will

be a rudder

to guide

my way,



to these

places of

you that

you have

offered few.



your words

like black and white

pearls you

birth to

me and

the depth

of your eyes

is a great

ocean to

dream upon.



I the pauper

you the

music for

all to hear.



and in

this universe,



in the wink

of an eye



you are

everything.

A gift .


these simple

poems

for you

to wrap

around your

dreams under

siren night,

these humble

words

and open

thoughts,

of admiration

and toasts

to glorious

days.

to dance

in your

honesty

and deep

kiss your

passion

words,

and I will

always be

so much the

richer for it.

give me

the pearls

of your

whispers

so I

may dance

with you,

and linger

forever in

your stories,

it is

in your

eyes that

time has

blessed you

most,

forever in love

and forever

again,

in the

joy of

a blessed

heart.

I am here.

Living in

her shadow

over forty

years have

gone by.


But I still

remember

her **** rule

as if It

were yesterday.


Mrs. Satterfield.

my fourth grade

teacher

at Lincoln

elementary

in Lynwood California.

.
and every

now and

then when

I think about

her. I feel

a need

to straighten up

my posture,

turn in

all of my homework

on top

her cracked

and peeling old

wooden desk.


spit out

my gum.

and look

to the

nearest

clock,


and count the

minutes until

lunch or

when I

get my release

to go home.


"no

gum chewing

allowed!" I'm

certain

it is on

her head stone

somewhere.


but I am still

much too

afraid to

go on

a little

escapade  

to look.


so I sit

still.

very still.

waiting for the

bells of

independence.

from Mrs. Satterfield"s

fourth grade

class to ring

in my head.


sometimes it is

almost like

I never

left.


sometimes

I can see

her looking at

me from across

the room.


and sometimes

forty years

later, bless

her soul


she smiles.

Her sun

dried belly

stirred under

the morning

covers.


as I

leave our

bed,


her favorite

dark chocolate

wrappers

crinkled beneath

my feet,


as I crossed

the floor.


half filled

glasses of

*** lie

slain

on our

bedroom

nightstand


testimonies

to our

time and

dreams well

spent together.


no names

exchanged.


no ****** or

emotional

scares,


it was a mutual

midnight negotiation

based on

the one

reality that

last night

neither one

of us wanted

to go

home alone.


we were

pirates of

sorts.

living and

loving through

desperate

times.

conquests

and surrenders,



sometimes you

just can't

tell the difference

between the

two.


and other

times it

hits

you naked

right

between

your eyes.

I was a

lost boy

toy soldier

from her

life.



lying still

after the

final conflict,



bleeding regret,

ready to let

the earth

soak me

down.



a fool's

look painted

on my face,



crimson cheeks

wallaby eyes.

a heartless

shell of

circumstance.



barely taking

last breaths

between

love's nowhere

shadows.

.

glory lost.



bound

only to

where

bad lovers

go to die.



to where

lover's skeletons

have been

picked clean

to the

bone.



and lies

and deceit

have rotten

their eyes.

(for a friend who still wears the
scars deep from ****)


Years later

like old black

shoes he

will never

wear again.

your covered

in secrets

and cobble

webs that

watercolor

your eyes in

only grey

and black.

and love

no longer

clings

to you,

you fear it

and like

a beaten

fish.

teeth bloodied

and crimson red.


you catch it

and then

without

ceremony

throw

it back.


his arms

are still

all around

you his

mouth tearing

flesh from your

lips.the

pressure of

his weight

is all

encompassing.


and he

is not

sorry,

and he

never will

be.


he only

fantasized about

a moment

and then

the moment

set him

free.

The gentle
turn of
your smile.

a gift
of heart.

your chest
rises
and falls.

moods
of siren
yearnings
fill the
room.

situation
adorable.

a poet's
words
dangled
out of
place.

the
sweet
smell
of you.

the magic
of the
air as
you walk
through
my dreams.

touching
here
laughing
there,

like
a arc
angel
in flight.

wings to
carry
me away.

far from
view.

to the
places
where
all good
things
go.

to shed
their
lies
and reveal
themselves.

on God's
cutting
floor.

where the
two
becomes
one.

and the
one,
is
never
two

again.

She untangles
from around
me,

like a
ball of
cheap

drunken

yarn.

then finds
her way
down our
bedroom
stairs.

upon reaching
the bottom

she throws
away a
glance

in my
general
direction.


much like
a person
waiting on

a bench
for a bus

would do,


when they
see a

car go by

then realize,


there is
no one

in it that
they really
know
or care
about.


it is just

a courtesy


"I think I

might know

you nod."


no need for

I love you's

this morning.


good-bye will

suffice.


and this
evening

when the
bus comes

to bring
her back..


It will
find me
waiting,


like a

wooden

drugs store

indian

at the
bottom

of the
stairs

eager to

meet her
there.

every day

right on

time.


it is not

so much
a game

we play,


as it

it has
become
instead.

a almost

lifeless

existence a


scare crows

ritual we
act..


biding time.
every morning
we awake.


sleep walking

love through

our day.

never
realizing,


we never
had anywhere
to go

to begin

with.

we had

a training wheel

love affair.


never quite

certain of
the balance of

our relationship

or feelings.


we were

a little too

tuff, we were

a little to

Evil kienevil

in love.


everything

had a first love

grace about

it.

love's blinders

were taken off.


and for awhile

we ran

like wild horses

in each other's

hearts.


we could barely

catch our

breath.


and then

it happened.

we became

things that

you never play

with again.


I fell,

you fell.

and there was

nobody there

to stop our

fall. and


then at fourteen

years old I learned

unfortunately,


things you never

play with again.


can sometimes
be people...

Whispered
words
between
us.

your
midnight
lavender
lipstick
a godsend
to my
lips.

we are
spirits
bonded,

but not
to the
mercy
of flesh.

we dream
deeply in
a million
colors,

painting
big white
billy goat
clouds in
our rainbow
dreams.

like children
playing in
a school
yard after
dark.

retreating
from the
idea of
ever having
to go home..

from one
moment to
the next.

we soar
without

prejudice
of lost
innocence.

our feet
never
to touch
the ground

again.

No justice
in the
turned
down
corners
of the smile
she wears.

holy roller
prayers
keep her
awake at
night.

she would
open
her wings
but
she has
lost
the taste
for flight.

broken love
hangs from
her body
like rags
on a prison
doll.

the edge
of no reason
has cut
her
open like
a knife.


her destiny
naked
running
across the
floor..

right side up

is now upside

down.


in her

deepest

depths

she knows

now..

he doesn't
love her...

Their pole

like profiles

and big

Hollywood

hair silhouettes,


parade across

the sea

shore

like tropical

peacocks

on display.


the beautiful

people.


colored in with

all the

right colors

in all

the right

places

in their

paint by

number

dreams.


but I would

so rather lie

in this

off beat

beach

hotel room

with you.


and make

love until

our sweat

has dried

over

and over

again,



like a fine

salt lined

second skin

upon our

naked

bodies.


with the

taste of

jack daniels

still christening

our breath.


and the

"do not

disturb" sign

attached firmly

to our

front door.


here we lie

hearts and

bodies

spent.



two souls

crashed

into one

total

surrender.


**** the

canopy

people.

Nothing must
ever be
left
unsaid
between
us.

or we
risk the
chance that
we may
truly
be lost.

nor midnight
whispers
unspoken,

nor morning
sighs seeking
refuge
unanswered

nor bleeding
promises
forsaken

to dust.

all are the
treasures
of you
I keep.

this moment
this embrace

they are
the seeds

of all
we might
ever
become

together.

She disguises

herself

in her

jackal's coat


whenever

the moment

suits her.

a cheap disguise

at that.


prey to hunter

innocence to

damnation,


she may

pretend.

but I have

witnessed

the jackal

running back

and forth

under my

bed like

a charged

beast rattling

it's cage

just before

dinner..


and I do

not fear

her, but I

do not love

her either.


throw the

jackal a

juicy bone,


silence

the rattling

quake.


tell the

sun

not to

come out

tomorrow.


let the

jackal

dance

in exhilaration

over me.


I await

only a

jackal's

baptism

in my

sleep..


and though

she will not

let me wake

tomorrow.


in this prayer

let this

night and

her vice

be forever

done with

me.

I take
her hand
trembling.

tide going
out.

all the

secrets
of her

marriage
will be
no longer
hidden.

safe in
harbor
shores.

her life
exposed
to the
pain

the sorrow,
the love

will be

like broken

seashells

thrown upon

this beach.

lost.

never to

be put

back together
again.

her
beauty
still
at hand.

like rose
pedals
reaching for
the new
mornings
light.

she knows
not where
to begin.

lovers from
her past
scurry
about her
thoughts,


like wild
dogs
looking
for scraps
of red

tender

meat.

but she
will have
none of it.

but it
is time,

to begin
her new

life without
him.

And the

memory
of melting
Zodiac
popsicles,


running down
your sweet
lips. and
the yearning
for cool

pin head

rain kissing

my back
on hot
summer
solace
days,


and the

belly aching

of annoying
friends like
harbor flies
bussing around
my head.,


you know the
really big
ones.

and in

the kitchen

the dishes
slumber deep
in their
porcelain
bed,

and barnacle
pieces of
food cling
to their
smooth edges,

and lazy
dish *****
run up

and down

left and

right in my
imagination
across their
face.

the karma
of *****
dishes

and a
summer
deluge of

missing you

that just
won't
stop.

Till your
a hundred
and one.

each night
close your
eyes
tight
like a

galleon's
treasure
chest,

and bury
your
dreams

deep
inside
me.

safe
from
pirates
and
wobbly
sorts.

and I
will be
there in
the air
around
you.

dream
calm
serene

like a child
saying the

last words of
the shepherds
prayer

before
she lays
her head
down to
sleep.

and I will
not sleep

and I

will not

falter

till you
awake.

and morning

light comes

to kiss your

dreams awake...

Jagged and

scarred

memories

draped over

me,


now like a

spiders

cocoon

woven tight

against a

wall.


your voice

still

echoes on

the telephone

line.


the phone

receiver now

held useless

against

my ear,


my mind

lost in the dead

calm of

silence.


last words

spoken,


penny jar

gone broke.

the moment

holds me

naked.


cotton candy

stuck hard

to the back of

my mouth.


chasing forever

rainbows

that my

heart now

knows

will never

kiss the

earth.

The hunger
of loneliness

and it's
shiny white
pearl teeth,

and cold
chilled
breath

that surrounds
you naked
late
at night,
when

you hear
every sound
for a
hundred
miles
around and

under your
bed.

and every
night
under
starless
skies it's
appetite
lies
unquenched,

so it
returns

to where
it knows

despair and

hopelessness
best.

like a river
flowing
straight
and true
to you.

again
and again

and again
.
returning
to scrape
it's
teeth sharp

and raw
on your
hearts
hollow
bones.

to kiss
gently

with
a lie
upon it's
face..

the
*****

your lover
left
behind

to pray
in the darkness

to dine
with the
devil all

alone.

We move
to our early
morning
lullaby

of the
moon
surrendering
itself
down
to rest.

whispers
between us
shared,

with no
one else.

cats at
our feet
making
pillows of
our toes.

Sumatran
coffee
brewing
unattended
in the next
room.

and all
I can do
is look at
you in
amazement
while
you
sleep.

and guard
your dreams
from broken
places.

time at
this moment

at this
heartbeat

at this
breath

in the

sum of

all things

I dream.


is you.

Come take
your mind
on down
with me .

let our bodies
be canvases
to the tributes
of our
lives.

leave  
our old stories
like tattered
and worn
baggage

by the
door.

be each
others
savior for
awhile.

an old lover's
lament.

not trying
to fill in
each other's
water color
dreams,

with lies
or half
obligated
promises.

and finally
when the
late afternoon

comes to
swallow our
worn
innocence.

close the
door.

leave unsaid
the words
that must
be said.

return us
both with
some dignity


to the outskirts

of our lives.

A deep
drink of you

and I
tilt back my head.

and drive till the
first light of morning breaks
this evenings
back.

I roll
down
my windows.

tear off
the rear
view
mirror.

nothing
in my past
that I ever
want
to see
face
to face

again.

let all
of your
adolescent
lovers
crawl back
and hide
under
your gypsy
covered bed,

like
puppets
dangling
from your
strings
of desire.

you will
not be
needing
them
again.

the broad
streets
and the
back
alleys
of your
hometown
lie
in wait
for your
feet
to kiss
them
awake.

time
to find
your
moment

and cast
aside
all of
your broken
******* jack
dreams,

that
were
never pretend
dreams
from somebody else's
dreams to begin
with.

come take
my hand,

slam your
front door.

let's dance

and love

again.

and pray
for love
at heaven's
gate...


no strings
attached.

A secret
passed

given in
confidence
of heart

from you
to me.

confided
in trust,

held with
a mother's
care.

the guard
has been
set.

boundaries
defined.

seasons
to follow
to be

tended
with grace.

souls to
be harvested
not wasted
to seed.

a child to
dance

by songs

of you..

and under
every  
moon"s ripe
bellied
womb.

from
here to
eternity's
gate.

each day

a Lovers
prayer
I will
send

to you.

If we were 10.

through
my child's
eye,

thoughts
of you
skip across
my mind,

like pebble
thoughts
thrown
on a river.

on a
summer's
day,

while
children play.

innocence
parading
homemade
kites a
bending,

to the
shears
of the wind
at Tempest
heights.

back pockets
emptied,

to a new
friend
offered

all that
I worldly
possess,

the ******* jack
compass,
the slinky,  
and the  
cat's eye
marble
blue.

I give
to you

and
nothing
less.

It's a  perfect day,

and the

salt air

kisses your

cheeks,



and he

strokes back

your hair

with the hands

you trust

and perhaps

even love.



seagulls

circling and

it's not even

a thought

in your

head that

they might all

of gathered

here to

circle you.



as the

day retires on



Oddly he seems

out of sorts

withdrawn

secretive

in thoughts.



Then he

lines up

his sights

and rushes into

the moment.



and  his words

stand to

attention

one after

The other,



ready for the

command

to attack,



to pillage

their mark.

to leave

no survivors.

not even



You!  



right between

the eyes. He says



" I have slept with someone else"



a ******* intimacy.



and the

seagulls begin

to fury.



love is

now a chill

in your

bones



a faceless

memory bleeding

out upon

the dock.



and  your lungs

gasp for air,



and fumble

with the

basic process

of oxygen

and hydrogen

inside your

heart.



or what is

left of it.



and suddenly

your realize



your naked

ashamed

and a fool.



and he

has left you

here for

seagulls prey,



caring less

running mad.



on this  

less than



perfect day.

All in
broken
*******
pieces,
that no
longer
nourish you,


last moments
last touch,
smell of
passion still
on your
breath,
heartbeats
unbridled
still submerged
just beneath
your skin.


your favorite

drink

half full

now resting
like a

tired foreign
legion soldier

standing guard
on someone else's
bedroom window.

.
and you try

to sleep
save for
the colliding
of stars over
your angel
head.


and the faint
sound of
footsteps
disappearing
down your
front porch

walk. and
what is
to become
of the crumbs
of you
that are left,


the oblivion
of time
that is
here the
silence of
your wounds
that bleed

out in the
night unanswered.

First love
has cut
down
the dreams
in my
eyes.

pillars
of faith
shaken.

hole
in the
very
fabric
of my
existence.

now I
am more
like them
than me.

don't ask

don't care
don't tell.

praying
and promising
to loves
false Gods.

nowhere
now becomes
a destination.

with my
whole life
left before
me to find it.

**** it!
at fifteen
years old,

Janet Hawley
broke my
heart....

In thought

of you

here,

Heart
displaced.

shadow
smiles,

hour glass
moments,

fleeing
from across
your face.

no one
listening
to stalled
heart beats.

your thoughts
jumping
from one
moon
to the next.

holding
back
time.

upsetting
the gentle
balance
of the
universe.

because your
not really
there.

your here
with me.

as the tide
wipes the beach
clean of false
impression.

so have you
allowed me
and my

heart
to breathe

again.

The Cinderella
story was
never
about
you.

you are
so much
more.
from beginning
to end.

with your
gypsy
point
of view.

that can
take
a man
down
with a
single
look.

make
him
beg
into the

night,

that you
will you
never
let him up
for air
again.

legs
squeezed
tight,

you heart
bleeding
out into
the night.

from so
long
ago
when
you lost
a broken
heart
to love.

and you
haven't
ever
found it

but your
nails
are black
with the
Indiana
mud,

as you
dig
and claw
and look
in all
of the
places,

that you
might
of seen
it last.

but still
the slipper
doesn't
fit,

the pumpkin
doesn't
come.

and the
mice sit
in the
corner
eat their
cheese
and look at
you
and laugh.

cause they
know it

too.

the Cinderella
principle
never really

applied

to you...

Empty out

my heart,

love's over

time to

go home.


retreat to the

silence of the

empty night

that is no longer

filled with you.


pull out a

sling shot

from my back

pocket and shoot

out the light

of the moon,


that every night

I would  see

reflected

in your eyes.


don't know

how I will ever

get over that.


pirate  dancer,

highway stagecoach

robber.


right before

my eyes

my life pages

burning,


and I can't stop

them revealing

in their fire's light,


the plain simple

truth, over

and over

again.


you don't

love me

anymore.


and the

lonely consequence

of that is

I am going

to miss you,

with this

hole in

my heart


for the rest

of my life.

.

In the baptism
of your
exhaustion

from the

night before.

I would guard
your sleep.

and prop
your head
upon my
chest.

let my thoughts
pour over
you,
like a soft
rain.

I would tend
your garden
while you
slept, and
play
like a
child with
your tangled

angel hair.

I would hum you
a melody in
your ears.
and keep your fears
at bay...

I would sit
and watch
you sleep.

In hope that
in the morning
when you
awake.

we would be

everything.

Rogue
smiles,

tender
lollipop

kisses
shared,

tell
our full
measure.

fingers
entwined
as we
sleep.

at first
chance
to awake
you,

I reach
to pull
you close.

the moonlight
caresses

our entangled
silhouettes,


and again
like a
miracle,


it is
true,

I witness
it.

this
diamond
necklace
sky has
lost
it's

universal
presence.


for it
pales in
comparison

to the
moments

you lie
over me.

and all I
see
is the

canopy
of you.

I seek
your smile,
like a six
year old
engulfed
in the
curiosity
of you.

I peek
through
the diamond

paned windows
of your
thoughts
that you have
left  open
to me.

everything new.

somethings
unexplained.

in the still
moments before
dawn,
I sit here
at my
keyboard
and talk to
it about you.

the joys
you feel.

the heart aches
we hide.

and then
you give
me pieces
of you.

and I
hold them
dear.

like sunlight
to flowers.

you awaken
me again.

A day where

nothing fits.

lying in my room

sifting through

gypsy thoughts

of running away

to perform in a

carnival

with you.


getting a little

annoyed with

my pillow and the

fat cat sleeping

in the middle

of it.


listening

for your voice,

but I can't

hear it.

and just over

the hill,

I travel

maybe today

I will arrive.

anywhere

that is away

from here.


I would love

to  topple the

highest building

In this concrete city

to the ground.

and plant flowers

and gardens on it's

concrete floors

and knock out

its cold concrete

windows with a stone,


caught between

the greys

and whites

of down town

Los Angeles,


wondering how

anyone ever

escapes from

this place

alive.

Clouds dance

like children

playing in

open blue sky.


and under

them I

day dream

of you

and where you

are and what you

are doing?


it is

the grace of

knowing

you that makes

me think of

you and pray.


that you are

well and

loved deeply

and held close

in the

morning when

you awake.


that your eyes

are bright

and full

of wonder.


just as I

wonder about

you and the

deep sighs

that you

take at

first kiss

on this Tuesday

morning


day dreaming

of you.

And in

this moment

you  have

allowed
me to

look
deeply,

and now
I have
found you.

your trust
broken,

love
abused,

tossed
aside
like a
broken toy

from a
childhoods
troubled
past.

you sit,


your
heart beat.
barely
stirring
over in
the corner,


and your
father
will not
notice,

and your
ex-husband
will not
care.

if I
come
in.

and carry
you
home.

time to
mend.

love to
heal.

time to
dream
new dreams,

and travel
with small
steps
parading,

to a better
place

for you
for your
daughter,

and a
rainbows

promised

end.

Sometimes
her eyes
are filled
with cemetery
trees,


and roses
with no
buds.


or color
just emptiness
bleeding
into white.

and then
she lies
on her
back
waiting,

for the
next
dream
to take
her home.

but not
the home
of you
and I.

sometimes
she hides
in dark
places.

and shallow
cries and
runaway
tears.

and lover's
arms that
cling
too tight
and grasp
so hard.

that the
life
is taken
out of
her.

but she
never
gives
up the
fight.

and she
gives them
even less.

and God
never
leaves
her eyes.

and love
never leaves
it"s mark.

in the dark
places that
sometimes

she goes

to hide

Each of us
ready,

waiting,
under
chameleon skins
of past
relationships.
colors and
textures
blurred.

we wait
open
like tributary
veins
ready to
flow into
the mother
load.

we hope
eternal,
defined by
our last
breath,


and the
horizon
that lies
before
us.

speechless
unsettled
you retire
to take a
bath ...

and I
return to
find my
way through

this Bible
this maze
that has
become
my life.

that always

dances in

my head,

and it's

eternal

heartbeat
that always

thinks
of you.

This morning

while holding your

note in my

hand.


the sun

fell unexpectedly

full somersaults

from the sky.

a fiery pinwheel

of downward

motion.


a molten

avalanche

of gigantic

proportions.

crashing all

around me,

as I sat

at my

morning table

eating my Monday

ritual

of oatmeal

and wheat bread.


abiding to

doctors orders

like an old dog

trying to be

taught new

tricks.


now uncertain

of what is to

become of me,



I know only

one thing

for sure.


I would of

loved you

one more day

with all my heart,


if you

would

of let

me.