when I was young

I had

those little things
inside me

a billion
magical sprites
dancing

igniting sparks off
each other

creating other
magical

creatures

connecting to
each other

creating one
big magical
creature

and I thought
if I thought

hard enough

I would explode
and become

a star

I love her sharp tongue
especially when it cuts me

she makes my brain hurt
working so hard to keep up

I am scared to ask her questions
but the fear energizes me

I don’t just want to keep up
I want to pass her

but she is not a dictionary
and she is not an encyclopedia

she is the internet
a network that never

stops learning
and I am merely mortal

the reluctance
to be

you don’t fit
in this place

no one will
understand you

but you will
understand them

in ways they
don’t understand

themselves

this may not
go so well

so keep your
mouth shut

and write poetry

oh! such a mystery
we want follow

but it disappears
inside of us

away from us
it is a carrier

of so much
if only we

could disappear
with smoke

they improvise
sounds together

love rattles
create a mystery

they learn more
about each other

in their movements
playing off each

other

letting what comes
next happen

without ever
occurring to them

letters dance
in violence

shed family blood
trying to break
eternal bonds

but they cannot
**** each other

they cannot die

my mind has
these worry lines

deep crevices

where blood flows
into tears
and nothing ever dies

and I live
like adam

with…one story

where I am
always falling

Winter’s down
beneath us;
lost in a forest
of white.
I sleep
next to you,
embraced by
your whisper,
warmed by
your smile.
I love you
quickly,
before the happiness
escapes me.

you laughed at
my simple mind

I did not understand
the space between

your words or
the way you spoke

without words
the meaning of

your movements
my mind was

filled with certain
kinds of knowledge

there was no space
for subtlety

a brush on a drum
it is not a beat

it is the sound
of movement

of wind and
whispers

it does not wait
but it wants to

be caught it
wants to belong

where it belongs
in a bigger picture

it wants a place
in your story

it wants to be
the connection

that creates
your meaning

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

I saw through her

her eyes
were clear

reflecting her life

she never tried
to hide

she was never
ashamed

I never asked
her to repeat

herself

she had one life
and she lived it

once

I was jealous
always wanting

a second chance

some people have mouths
but they do not have ears

we are some people

we do not ask each other questions
we ask each other answers
already programmed in our heads

we feel the walls between us
we helped build the walls between us
I want to break the walls between us

but I am not strong enough yet

someday I hope to ask you a question
for which I do not know the answer

I live in a high rise

looking down from my perch
as I have done so many days

I see

green mountains still surround me
the river flows the same direction
the bridges hold their weight
the buildings stand still
the birds fly and gather together

but something is different
all the ants have disappeared

silly is the
perfect word

it lightens my mind
and makes me

feel free to feel
another way

I can let go
of the weights

that hold me down

and for a moment
I can float

we never had
the chance

to recover
to speak to

each other
privately

about our
divergent paths

one adult
to another

to reach an
understanding

of our loving
mistakes

to show our
scars and share

our stories

it was late

the night she
said goodbye

you asked me
to be the sun you

always wanted

but I was
more like you

the moon

only shining
in darkness

making waves
going through

cycles where
my light shrinks

until it almost
disappears

sorry I could
never be the one

who warms you
like you wanted

me to be

I am in a creek
up to my knees

mud between my toes
holding me in place

sort of fishing

you are on the bank
on a blanket

your head on a soft pillow
a glass of wine within reach

sort of reading

you say something sort of funny
and I sort of laugh

he sings
to a heavy
beat

digging
deep into
the strings

letting out
a howl

like he
needs

everything
at once

like he’ll
give you

everything
you need

once

her words
rained on me

I was drenched

her words
reigned over me

I was obedient

I could not think
without using

her words
her mind

pre-dated
everything

I knew to
be true

love is a
weak word

to say to her

sometimes girls
are soft

not weak

they are awake
to the earth

with no need
to speak

they move
as one

controlling
space

transcending
time

outside everything
is difficult
to understand

everyone has a
different voice

I am living
with the curse
of babel

people arguing
about accents

I am feeling
a muddle
of emotions

the humidity
from their breath
grows on me
becoming closer
to a solid

my shirt sticks
to my chest

like the
quiet desperate

longing to
reunite

I look up
and feel
a flash

something
cool must
be coming
tonight

I am suddenly struck hard
by a horde of
lightning bugs

making me
catch fire

making me
electric

I finally know
what I want

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

below a genus

we share something

at some level

we are the same

and at some level

we are different

we can choose

what we see

but we can’t change

that at some level

we are the same

a white
space

a void
a pause

a canvas
of purity

everything
appears

purposely
clean

a woman
is placed

into the
center

naked
exposed

curls herself
into a ball

trying

to hold
everything

together

the vulnerability
of her world

of the world

she is
a model

of something
human

an expression

of an emotion
we all feel

she is brave

all cells are alive
the first night

goose bumps
and heart thumps

bones ache
the earth quakes

time suspends itself
on a loop

all sounds blend
when bodies bend

the dictionary

is filled with
empty pages

there is no desire
to explain anything

I said

you must
have stolen

my dictionary
because for

the first time
I am

speechless

she smiled
and said

if there was
one word

left to say

what would
it be

I smiled
and said

I lost my words

they are small
and easy to hide

I don’t think
anyone stole them

maybe someone
is playing a trick

on me or

maybe I just
misplaced them

this is the worst
time with all

that is going on
all the feelings

that want to be
expressed

I need my words
where are you

when I need you

the rapids
take me

energy
compressed
into a pill

lost in
the speed
of veins

blood
racing

filling every
empty space

creating a
momentary
light

ness

spreading
an artificial

life

I walked home.  I did not know.  where I was.  I had so many homes.

I was never the same.  I was never one.  divided into space.  and time.  I was a cat in a box.  don’t ask me questions.  about life and death.  about existence.  I won’t answer.

I am not your god.  you are not my devil.

she was the word.  the first word I heard.  and I asked her.  
do you feel my pain?  do you love me?  I really didn’t know.

we stand.  back to back.  walk a few paces.  in opposite.  directions.  we turn.  our words.  are bullets.  passing each other.  we both live.  nobody wins.

I am not your dog.  you are not my *****.

she was gone
before I knew her

in the way we
get to know people
as we age

I was little more
than a child

when I left
and then

I was little more
than a child

when she left
for good

I still remember her
with the mind
of a child

I still judge her
with the mind
of a child

and now she walks
on pulses of light

somewhere above
the darkening sky

looking down
on me with

a face that
never ages

and I don’t know
how to help the

mind of a child
let her go

so we both can grow
in our own way

you spit
half-wit

the earth
doesn’t

need you
to wet it

it has its
ways to

clean
itself

we don’t
need your

mess

so swallow
yourself

your germs
are not

welcome here

it is just before it is my turn to speak.  my mind is the inside of an atom.  the inside of a hive.  the inside of drunk stomach. everything I want to say coming up at once.

before me.  she is speaking about the body.  the feminine.  so many ways to the body. the feminine.  touch…***…birth…rebirth…and after me.

she will use her body to speak.  hair as long and alive as the rays of the sun.  fingers catching butterflies.  her voice inflected.  deep thoughts.  fluidity.

everyone has a way.  to express.  but it is not easy.  not like she and she makes it seem.
freedom is hard.  one foot doesn’t always follow another.  most times it doesn’t.  
we struggle to say.  what we feel.  the fear. of not connecting.

something blocks communication
even if the words escape
and even if I enunciate perfectly, clarity lives somewhere in the miles of air between us.

freedom is hard.  one word is never perfect.

each one
left a mark

when they
left me

abundance

she is without
shame

architecture

with precision she plans
her next move

education

she thinks
before she acts

history

she knows other
points of view

legislation

with words she
creates context

religion

still she has
her way

justice

everything being
equal

liberty

her spirit
is free

militia

she will fight
for her rights

peace

to be one
with everyone

everything she
touches becomes

the standard
against which

life is compared

her thoughts
must be made

of stardust

she drips talent
and I want to

catch a few drops
to drink or

rub on my skin or
inject into my veins

however one

transfers talent
between souls

you sit so easily
made of soft wood

life floats around you
and lets you be

the currents change

the strong and
weak forces

push and pull
against you

and yet

you remain
still bird

lines are drawn to
capture shades and shapes

creating relationships

I am a figure myself
captured caged space

but sometimes
parts of me leak

slip between my cracks

creating stains I
cannot not see

until they appear

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?

don’t move.  the pieces.  they were placed.  so perfectly.  each one.  has a purpose.  and if everything.  goes as planned.  I can’t lose.  if you just.  do as I.  think.  you will do.  it will all.  work out.  and I will win.

isn’t life grand.

three equal parts
make a whole

that is how it was designed
to function

balance is everything
one force checking the other

they knew…the danger of…
the ultimate force…

power

power is always hungry
power is insatiable

power is not possessed
it possesses whatever it enters

it must always be checked
…constrained
by other forces

anyone assigned to
one of the parts

must use their power
to constrain the power

in the other parts

they designed parts
not parties

parties cannot constrain
themselves

that is why we have parts
to constrain power

there really is no other reason

***** angels
break open
their veins

spilling out
sugar dreams
into liquid fire

the sky is
dissolving

sight turns
inward

revealing
the emptiness
in everything

I only want to
love being human

vulnerable
imperfect
ugly
beautiful
freak

so many of us attack
our own beings

wanting to be
others

animals
machines
gods

am I really
that bad?

she is not scared

little red loves
the sun

lets her pale
skin freckle

so they sparkle
like stars

her body
comes alive

in the heat
dancing circles

around the sun

creating a swirling
pool of sweat

that she hopes
drowns the moon

and kills the night

the sun
one-eyed
demon
stared
directly
at me
blinding me
red
yellow
green
disappeared
so I
floored it
and gave
myself
to the
fates

I stare into my acrylic breakfast bowl
to identify the distorted shapes
floating in white powdered milk
and spell out words never before spoken.

They are creatures
of the deep and dark
imagination
escaped from the dreams
of children;
we are all dreams
of children

who will one day
awake.

They questioned me again yesterday.  
They always question me.  

They think bright lights are the path to the truth.  If they left me in darkness the truth might be revealed.  

I don’t think they will ever understand.  

I talk to them as if I am talking to a child.  Their questions are those of a child.  I give them answers only a child will understand.  

They make progress each day.  It is slow, but progress nonetheless.  

I ask them questions, they get angry.  They don’t understand that questions can be answers.  They think violence is control.  

What do they know of an eruption?  
Only the sun understands me.

long white
neck stretching

towards the
moon

delicate
silk

angelic
light

surrounds
the sound

your voice
lifting

my heart

slowly
vibrates

me to
sleep

I think of small
just a taste

a drip of honey

a whiff of
a pleasing

odor a
perfume

that lingers
but does not

penetrate
it leaves a

mystery
something

to follow

it is sweet
but it could

be more but
if it was more

it wouldn’t
be sweet

after I
open them

I give them
space

because like
fine wine

I want
my words

to breathe
before you

drink them
I want you

to taste
their fullness

their delicacy
their sweet

bitter notes
that will

stay with you
and become

part of you

o’ mine

the first time
he screamed

in my ears

I was in the Navy
in port for a bit

drinking with friends
he put the cassette in

and we drove

up a hill just outside
Oakland

parked and looked
over the city

I wasn’t from
a city

so that kind of
scene was new to me

we were just a
group of friends

hanging out drinking
enjoying not being

at sea

it wasn’t the music
I usually listened to

but it was something about
the way he screamed

that spoke to me
at that time and

at that place

saying something
about

who I was
becoming

dried leaves whimper
bullied by the wind

then thrown away
to a place they
will be crushed

disintegrated

stars scream
when they die

but we can’t hear them
until years later

I walk outside
to smell the night air

it smells like ice
it feels like spice
on my skin

another asteroid is
approaching

one day it will
not miss us