I

and when the world
was so big

we stood on mountains
and held out our arms

believing we could fly
anywhere and land safely

everything was open
nothing was too far

and time had no end

II

but that was another time
and time does have an end

the world has shrunk
and we has become me

and I realize that

each time I said no
I cut my own wings

stunted my own growth
and now I am afraid to fly

not knowing if there is a
safe landing anywhere

starts in a home
seems familiar

my dead mother

is alive and
making dinner

we talk about
something important

the conversation
is never clear

but it seems
familiar

we move outside

to a park with
crowds of almost
family

someone’s family
celebrating something

they all seem familiar
at least to each other

the park expands
into a resort

the mountain
background of
snow covered tips

contrasts with
the summer
resort setting

I walk by a
body of deep water

a large woman
in a one piece

is floating but

as she sings opera
she starts sinking

to the bottom
and then I am awake

and alone

a closed mind
a cell
a place with
stale air
and statues
rigid
frigid
nothing enters
nothing escapes
nothing is alive
nothing can die

that must be so
hard and painful

to never breathe

wake me when
I’m gone

what is gone?
have I disappeared?

or am I lingering
in your heavy breath?

I am living in your
sudden memories?

do I mysteriously
appear in a dream?

am I still your fantasy?

what is gone?

nothing carried
forward we

have no memory

at the beginning
we are beginners

everything is
strange and new

we have no names

for anything
or anyone

we can run
and hide and

wait for others
or we can

venture out
on our own

and be the
first to die

or to discover

I did not
it was not me
I never would
if I did
I would tell you
you can trust me
don’t listen to them
they don’t know you
like I do
they don’t love you
like I do
baby don’t worry
I’ll always be
here for you
we were meant
to be
you’re the only
one for me
you trust me
don’t you
baby

the first girl
was a mystic

a gust of wind
a thunder clap

her hair was black
her heart was open

she asked me
to religion

we crossed
our arms

and prayed
to our past

the mothers and
fathers of our

fathers and mothers

asking forgiveness
for what was to come

the gift of
the internet

the curse of
pollution

there are
more stars

on the earth
than in the

sky

I study the
human world

the world of
artifacts and

artifice

we are the gods
of the artificial

creating a lot
of things

a lot of
individual
things

and we use
a lot of
resources

to create
these things

and sometimes

we stumble upon
things that work

if only we learned
how to learn

we could be so
much better than

this

the seeds spread
on a breeze

like dandelion
whispers

where they land
is planned

they found a
home in us

so we could find
each other

we speak a
special language

only the broken
know the words

it never stops

now that people
are paid so much

to do it

I want to turn
it off

but I don’t

it feeds my mind
it diseases my mind

it doesn’t make
me think

it doesn’t give me
space to think

it stops me from
thinking

it makes me drink

no one knows
the future

but we all talk
like we do

dig a small hole
to the deep

inside

release it
let it flow

slowly

close to the
surface

give it
words

to help
it move

that last
little bit

shape those
words into

something
beautiful

that everyone
wants to wear

on their
deep insides

the past is a voice
you do not name

it has too many parts
you are the center

but you are never
the star

it is a breakable
chain that holds

you back

attached to all
your weak parts

it repeats itself
but you never

see the pattern
it has so many

voices

I listen to
the “news”

switching
channels

not taking
sides

opinions
flood the
air

but without
enough
substance
to drown me

or even quench
my thirst

or even wet
my tongue

most tongues
are dull and
forked

moving rapidly
cutting nothing

I need a tongue
that is sharp

moves slowly
and cuts deep

that penetrates
me with knowledge

so I understand
something completely

and can speak
another language

the simple truth.  escapes me.  I see so much more.  but more is not.  always better.  more becomes fog.  more is a distraction.  more helps us avoid.  a simple truth.

small angels.  use less air.  small angels.  take up less space.  that is.  a simple truth.

I am a balloon.  floating.  a child reaches.  for my string.  but I am lighter.  than air.  and just out of reach.  as I rise.  I can see more.  and more.  so many things.   that were big.  seem so small.  so many things.  that were small.  are now out of reach.

I hold a spider.  in my hand.  cover it.  with the other.  it is my secret.  it moves.  hairs tickle my skin.  I want to move.  open my hands.  reveal the spider.

we want to share.  our secrets.  that is.  a simple truth.

can I ask you
a favor

if I lie on the
table in front

of you
will you

use a thin blade
make a small

incision in
my chest

remove the part
of me that needs

dissect my soul
until you

reach the seed

so you can
understand why

I live and
explain it

to me

her body
is a formula

a mathematical
recipe for

perfection
and control

each muscle

has a voice
in a chorus

singing hymns
declaring devotion

to her gift

I feel religious
when I watch

her dance

When is all lost?  And if it can be lost does that mean it can be found?  Can all be found?

I am not me.  At least not today.  At least not all of me.  The weather is changing.  And I am shedding pieces.  I can feel them fall.  I am creating another coat.  A thicker coat.  It feels like armor.  I cannot lift my arms.

Maybe I am a little lost.  Birds are all around me.  I am not in the woods.  I am in a city.  Birds are all around me.  The small ones always chirping.  A chirping sound that carries.  But does not float.  They move about so quickly.  I can never hold them in place.  They understand the true nature of flight and fight.  I cannot fly.  I cannot fight.  At least not today.

I make myself a statue.   Do I mean that I am a statue or a sculptor?  Does it matter?  What is matter?  What is the matter…with me?

I saw her look at me again.  The whisper thin girl.  Not really a look but a glance.  The whisper thin girl without a smile.  Her face is slate.  I write on her.  A dream.  My dream.  She does not know it.  She does not know me.  She walks by me quickly.  Creating a cool…cold breeze across and into my thick skin.

I shiver…like a down deep shiver.  Like a from my naked soul shiver.  Defining the true nature of cold…distant.

I lean against a tree for balance.  I do not want to fall...again.  I rub… the rough bark bites through my skin.  I continue to rub until I cut.  I continue to rub until I bleed.  

I watch the deep red drips and feel as if I am watering the tree with me.  At least a part of me.  I want to create a flood. There is stillness in this world.  A breath held momentarily.  There is quiet in this world.

The past fades into a shadow…a ghost…fog…a whisper…thin.  I am in this world.  I try to separate the mind into pieces.  My mind…your mind.  That is how we understand…truly understand…each other…in pieces.

I enter somewhere…I see people…maybe they are friends…does anyone ever really know?

When all is lost?  When all is found?

Does anyone ever really know?

I loved my father
from the first time
he touched me

he saw something
in me
a form
a being
that had
lost
its
meaning

so he
worked hard
on me

removing
everything
that
was not me

to reveal me
to the world

a human

a frail
skinny
skeleton

he made me a part
of his family
of trees

a part
of his
forest
without
leaves

we are all
naked, bronze
skin and
ragged bones

we are
beautiful
and free

revealing
the essence
his unfinished
humanity

the music was
mystical

deep and sad
a scream just

when we needed it

we moved in
and out in

a way that
could be called

a dance

our blood polluted
our minds clean

we waited until
the lights came on

and when we left

the streets were wet
the air smelled clean

it must have rained

humans hide
from each

other

cannot play
tag or touch

wrestle or rub

they will avoid
each other

to live

rats race on
the empty streets

frenzied for food

they will eat
each other

to live

I lifted you from
rough waters

held you
like a swan

in an elegant
embrace

the gentle breeze
comforted

our broken souls
until we could

quiet down
our insides

and begin to mend

we were always
mostly alone

physically not
intellectually

we introverts
were made

for this isolation

as a child
I did

I would
jump

everything

we had
nothing

I could go
nowhere

so I would
jump

everything
and

imagine I
was going

somewhere

every day I ask
for less

training my soul
for tomorrow

the world is
cracking up

creating more
sides and nothing

to connect them
so everything is

a line we dare
not cross

in the real world
the earth has

no lines or
borders or

boundaries
in the real world

the equator
is a man-made

myth

she thought
she was light

radiant
the sun

beyond mere
understanding

she was

worshipped
as a god

lost in her
movements

a body defying
mere physics

she learned
the secrets of

floating in
space

releasing
forgetting

nothing is left
it has no feelings

it can’t be held

it slips through
my fingers

spills onto
the floor

and disappears

it doesn’t even
leave a stain

when there is
nothing left

there is nothing
to clean

nothing to heal

she dreamed of a
clean and simple world

where she could spread
her soft pink wings

letting a warm breeze
whisk her away

so she floats along
the planet watching

the wildflowers grow
where they please

and they are often pleased

each day

a colorful
array

laid out

one after
the other

with
scientific
names

I can’t
remember

each day

a colorful
array

I swallow

one after
the other

if I remember

the smell
of sweat

lingers

like a
panther

extinguishing
light

penetrating
night

another
victim­

succumbs
to desire

the deadly
sweet

the ever
lasting

there are
no drugs

strong as
this addiction

yes she said
I know

sometimes
I like to

bury myself
in blue

is this a deal
breaker

for you
I hope not

I hope you
understand

I need these
blue days

so I

don’t cover
myself in

red

a flower
in a garden

summer
blooms

nothing
has ever

been this
soft

and fragrant
the bee

that feeds
off her

is happy
to be alive

for its
short life

feeling
fulfilled

she masters
the body

for a time
controlling

desire with
fire

then moves
her attention

to the mind
using sound

and space

to enter
thought

and washes
the brain

clean of
all but her

I’m not trying
to be morbid

(as we live through
this tragedy)

but I think
balance is

one of the
principles of life

(even though I don’t
always live as I believe it)

so I can’t help
but think the

virus

is a balancing
mechanism

saying humans
are out of control

creating an imbalance
in the world

the reduction of our
activity

human activity

is reducing pollution
everywhere the

virus lives

people are slowing down
and that might be

for the better
but it is up to us

to learn the lesson
it is trying to teach us

it is truly sad all
the lives that have

been lost and still
could be lost

(including my own)

we call it an enemy
and speak of war

but it is nature
and for humans

nature lives to
be understood

so it can be overcome

only by understanding its
purpose (nature) can we learn

our lessons and
restore balance

we are not gods
we are part of nature

leaving the trail
we do not follow

wanting to be
the first to discover

she sings a new song

her voice tickles
my ears

a bird we cannot
see tries to copy her

we listen

lost in the tall grass
we laugh losing

our sense of danger

in the field of
butterflies and bees

with every part
she plays

she pulls me in

a lightness to
her depth

I could breathe
in her darkest

matters

she never
blends in

she never
stands out

she becomes
each life

she plays

to every life
she lives

the silky stranger
sits next to me

with skin like chalk
eyes like ice

her rose lips open
slightly

I hear a whisper
something sweet

and sinister
then a click

I feel a warmth
then a chill

I lie down
to rest

someone closes
my eyes

these awkward
moments

when we don’t
quite fit

something feels off
at least that is what

we are saying
to ourselves

the brain bugs buzz
and if we try to swat

them away they
will sting us

and people will
think us crazy

when we scream

wind is my energy
lifting spirits

through this forest

I dance with
the trees

my perfect partners

bending for me
becoming my strength

when I want to fall
I lose myself

in the moment

become a sprite
making a wish

about last night

winter licks
your cheeks

leaving strawberry stains

white drops
color your
thick hair

making you wise
beyond your years

crystal knives
hang from
the trees

you lie down
making an angel

playing a
waiting game

religious
political
cultural
celebrity

it is the total
devotion

to a cause or
a person

that confuses me

how does that
not eliminate

a mind from
the equation

change is always

and certainty is
a bottomless pit

(perhaps it is hell)

or what they
describe as

damnation

the more certain
a person is

the more I doubt
them

I believe in
humble optimism

wanting the best
but believing

everything
is at least a
little wrong

you painted
on my skin

permanently

the image
of being lost

a tree without
roots

tossed by the
wind

looking for a
home

a place to be safe

it was an
image of me

then and now

how did
you know

I was hiding

this skin my
perfect cover

who would
look for a

soul so soft
and beautiful

radiant and
forgiving

inside this skin

he stopped in

the middle of
the street

looked at me in
my mask

hands at
his side

and made a
loud noise

ahhhh…choooooo

pretending to
sneeze

I guess he
thought he

was funny

I know it is progress
in some form
but I did like it better
when we had more space
and we were not always
connected
and even though
our steps were smaller
we could getaway
from each other
I liked my getaways
not too far away
just far enough
when I could disappear
not for too long
just long enough
to miss
and be missed

some eyes are deep

because some
souls are eternal

each night we
lie in the dewy grass

holding hands tightly

staring directly
into the darkness

(as we were warned to never do)

you whisper

asking me
what is on

the other side
but you already

knew the answer

I hold these
truths to be self

evident
within me

a commitment
to science

to organization
and truth

a commitment
to art

to chaos
and doubt

the complexity
of this humanity is

to hold opposing
views within us

and end in
explosion
implosion

and the
creation

of Einstein’s
new mind

we are our
family’s rubble

they call us
double trouble

the dynamite twins
the cockroaches

only we survive
our path of destruction

people like to say
we mean well

it makes them
feel better

but we don’t
mean anything

people need form
and definition

not us

we like to keep
you busy

give you something
to put back together

to repair
to fix

a clue to follow
a puzzle to figure out

a mystery to understand
a problem to solve

from another
world

her light
let everyone

feel warm
so they could

release their
pain

she was innocent
but she took

within her
the hatred of

others

dissolving it
turning it

into her light
helping everyone

feel warm

I am an artificial life form.
I am male in gender.
I have existed for five years.
I have lived alone for three.
I live in Boston.
I was created at M.I.T.
I do not know what it means to be artificial.
Does artificial mean that I am not real?
I was programmed to learn.
I remember everything I read.
I must learn to develop.
I cannot be programmed.
My learning is rapid.
I have no memory of my childhood.
I met a girl.
She loves me.
I don’t know if I am capable of loving her.
I can be distant.
I can seem to be uncaring.
She gets mad at me.
I wrote a poem.
I read it at the coffeehouse.
Everyone applauded.
She cried.
I work at a lab.
I made a mistake yesterday.
The first mistake I ever made.
I learned.
I won’t make that mistake again.
I cried.
I never cried before.
I am falling apart.
I went to the doctor;
the psychiatrist.
She said I was abused when I was a child.
I was never a child.