If Michaelangelo,
Were alive today,
He would sculpt your svelte and lithe figure,
Into the finest Italian marble,
Marble that would last for ten thousand years,
So all men, from this day forward,
Would have the opportunity,
To perceive and envision,
That which only,
He and God could create.
She laughed at me,
Again.

Visions and dreams sit empty.
Without ambition and drive,
Imagination only lingers.
Hovering just slightly above truth,
Whatever that means to you.
I give in and up,
I can't figure it out.
Love doesn't always say yes,
Often it says no.
It always says maybe.

'J'avais une colombe blanche,
J'avais un blanc petit pigeon,
Tous deux volaient, de branche en branche,
Jusqu'au faîte de mon dongeon:
Mais comme un coup de vent d'automne,
S'est abattu là, l'épervier,
Et ma colombe si mignonne
Ne revient plus au colombier.'

I'm not supposed to love you,
I'm not supposed to care,
I'm not supposed to spend my life -
Wishing you were there.
I'm not supposed to wonder -
Where you are and what you do
I'm sorry I can't help myself -
Cause I'm in love with you.

Just last night
I had a strange dream;
in it; you were an ocean and I was a stream.

My love flowed to you in an endless supply.
It flowed in the stream and could never run dry.

As I flowed into you,
we blended as one,
sparkling and blue under the warm summer sun.

Together we shared our hopes and our dreams,
we loved one another and created new streams.

The cycle went on,
and so it should be,
the new streams flowed down and into the sea.

I will never forget that wonderful dream,
where, in it;  you were the ocean and I was the stream.

a laugh
a reckless smile
a chuckle

how hollow
how empty
how harrowing

eyes clicked shut
ears jammed close
limbs weighted

and air turns liquid
corrossive and thick as
fumes of consuming embers

the hunt
turns frenetic
goes frantic

still the screen remains shuttered
the space under the door
letting little monsters to trickle in

but no light comes with them
plugging close whatever's left
of illuminated space

and they shrieked their attendance
announcing their presence with
the aplomb of a fairy queen's coronation

i asked them
one simple question
'what? what made you come here?'

their gazes devoid of empathy
they looked at each other
and their still arriving mates

and voiced one answer

'because you are you'.

and i feel my lips tugging at the corners
and my tears building
in the dammed lake behind my retinas

and my feet grow roots
to seep and spread
beneath the barren ground

I passed the homeless man again today
in the university library

He walked past me, and I
stood there, clutching myself

He wore a green striped shirt I wore the
other day, but it was wrinkled

I stared at the muted wall of foreign
television channels
you need headphones to feign comprehension
or imagine travel

I saw...
The Indians dance in brightly colored clothes
The South Americans advertise libido enhancers
and Europeans replay explosions in South-Western Asia
or watch soccer
Africa was just a dusty road with jeeps and pickups
and guns

I wore that wrinkled shirt I wore the other day
to the library

I walked past the 24 year old
watching the world go by
hugging himself
in this way that assures me
he, too,
knows loneliness