I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

a glimpse of
what might have been:
the candle
and the blow

pacing the floor
mind filled with nighthawks
stomach with bitter pills

snow on the window sill
--the long winter
of our love

it comes out of the blue
like dead reckoning

thoughts of us
unfinished

a hand withdrawn
the final wager on goodbye

Today's happiness is
Yesterday's sadness.
Nothing is permanent
Today's laughter is
Yesterday's tears
Stop thinking about tomorrow
The past and its sorrow
Live the now
That's my Dao.
Free your mind
And stop being blind.
Life is a dream
Wake up and let happiness be
Your daily realm.