Like this morning for instance
Hot February and dry cracked
skin of my shadow
which sometimes seems
to look at me
and move w/out me
and I, w/out it.

Sometimes I see the flicker
of a dark soul jeer; a savage dance,
right in front of me,
or in the corner of my eye
when my head is tilted.

The other day at my friend’s
I felt like I was, briefly,
in the sunflower courtyard
of this ol’ dark
underwater museum
full of mirrors
that float adrift.
Angles that perpetually
gyrate and shift…..

I hear the sound of a whale
submerged in a highway
crying with striving despair
at night

and I'm sad
because his lovers reply
sounds so distant
and it sounds as if it comes
from a cavern w/in an ocean
below a sun

I hope he finds her
and dies happy
in the warmth of her flippers....

I miss the panther-warm wine & cream
Was it worth it
Is this worth it

Cold violet city
vacant warm lobbies at night
desolate allies and dogs in such deep slumber
they cant even wake to bark at impending footsteps
The musty brown cars
whose aura of mothballs and pipe smoke
reminds you of a childhood irretrievable  

I smiled back at the rocks that snickered
Beside the fence
which stood firm
In caring vigilance

Cold verdure within
Misery mixed with
Getting bored w/ absorbing it

There’s a strange saloon w/ hotel attached
at the center of Melancholy
where flames are lit music is played
bodies are slowly denuded
and silver knives are thrown

I can show you…

(Long ago it seems
I bit and kissed and became
aquatinted w/ the bark of
the root of delirium

Recently even I’ve spoken
to the heart of delirium itself
from within
w/ no reply
but I can remember
all my memories were hallucinations)

I have been aquatinted with the bad
Wearing low cut shirts to show the world
Short skirts, giving more than a stripper
I have skipped school to steal hearts
I have hurt many
Only to pity myself
I have tried to drown the pain
I found myself at the bottom of every bottle
and then some
I have walked lonely halls
trying to avoid the all knowing teachers eyes
But
I have let my self
Become aquatinted with the bad

I never fully understood the meaning of the  word “mourn” until this year -
To truly feel the loss of another concentrated in its purest form.

I never believed when others would say
“I miss you more, in  each and every day” or
“There’s not an hour goes by, without a thought of you on my mind”
As if Loss is an unforgotten constant in the trails of the trivial,
We are only human after all.

But I was naive, through and through.
Loss never leaves your side once you meet
Loss is a friend for life.
The kind that shows their face in the most unpredictable moments,
Who never fades away or falls out,
Becoming more aquatinted as we go through life.

Loss is selfish, wanting our undivided attention,
Expecting us to indulge in its deep dark thoughts with strong pretension.

Loss is harsh, not hiding nor sugarcoating any enemy attack,
Facing us with the reality of control and just how much we lack.

Loss is bitter, Loss is unkind
Loss is a thief, stealing our piece of mind.

Loss is jealous, Loss is sly.
Is it absent of Love,
Or has Love left it’s side?

wrap me in Your dark embrace
pull me close
kiss my neck
my wrists
my scars.

make me fall for You
when i've got the noose around my neck.

people are scared of you
but i don't fear you any more
our late night meetings have got me aquatinted with you
You're always there for me
even in my shadows absence

You overwhelm me
take my breath away
make my hear skip a beat
or stop beating all together

We have a date
and i'm counting down the days until i finally meet you
all the teasing
taunting
half meeting
i will be with You
we will be one.

take me away with You
forever
my love
let us live in our kingdom

It was my pride and joy.
When I picked it up and
My lips kissed the cold metal
I felt instantly at home.
My fingers pressed the three
pearled keys up and down
as if getting re-aquatinted,
always one being a rebel.
The spit valve needed a
new cork for it dripped
like the tears of a loved one,
longing to be held.
And the gold paint was
chipping, revealing an
ugly shade of brown.
But as your hand glided
across the paper,
the blemishes and
imperfections disappeared.
And the world now saw it
through my eyes.
It did not shine or
glitter in the sunlight,
but it hung, proudly
in black and white.
A masterpiece.

i never told him now i felt
not once had the intention of doing so
because a part of me believed
that unrequited love is much sweeter
than the sour taste of once aquatinted love
and not longer acquainted love;
never as bitter as the love from a confession
cut off at the stem and uprooted from the earth.
perhaps it was my fear of my heart being laid out bare-
torn apart and sliced to shreds
only to fall short of the pan
and into the trash instead.
that last drop in the bottle no one bothers to get
i was  never one for cooking
but i can't seem to find step one
and i don't think i have all the ingredients
on how to make this thing called love.
how long should i let it bake
and how do i know when its ready to share?

Your mind is a mountain i wish i could climb
Your eyes are like water i wish i could drink
Your soul is so pure
No one set to taint it
Im given the chance
With pain I'm aquatinted

You were so cool though
I never thought id feel at home
Being left alone to suffer
Love was lost again
Start looking for another
To find that it is pointless
Searching for the one
Who puts you in the sky
To blaze just like the sun

You'll find your flame short-lived
You'll find that you are falling
Not deeper in love
To dirt where bugs are crawling
You hit the ground and live
Get up and can't walk
But still have love to give

Sit with broken legs, or maybe get some pegs
You'll have a better look
For turning females heads

Then you'll find the one
Then you'll find your lover
Just you your love and pegs
Dissolving in each other

The ache is old
And deep-seated
And cold
And numbing
And uncontrolled
And heavy
And bold.

It hits as if Thor's hammer is
Striking his enemies who have somehow
Taken up residence
In my heart.
And he must obliterate them.

I wish the doctors could find a way to fix this.
But it seems they are as lost as I.

So I greet this ache as I would Death:
An old friend,
Yet one I had hoped to be far less aquatinted with.

This ache is old,
As old as I.
And it always will be.

I don't know how to express love
During the times when I can feel it
Most of the time seems an emptiness undefined
Embracing theologies that excuse my flaw
Learning the lessons, love is not always a feeling
Except when it is
Curled up in my gut like a child in the womb
I hold it tightly, tightly in
Can't let people see the look I get on my face
Or god forbid some tears
But your books on the night stand
As they are yours and yours alone
I have such love for them
And realize, looking at them, that I have even more, stronger love buried inside me
But it rarely comes out
And it makes me physically I'll
Beingi it so deprived in my.heart
I love my wife
I don't know what I'd do without her
But she doesn't know the half of it
She can't extract it, stuck so firmly to my skeleton
It's where it must be for now
New emotions mixed with old
Ancient love leftover from the day
Mom left us behind
She left us to lions and life that way
Many years he
Help us become less aquatinted
Ain't it f'ed up?
About 35 years and seven miles to cross
Leaden lump of love and betrayal
Keeps me where I am
I have love in my heart
But it's tainted
It's bashful and too embarrassed
Some gone bad, for sure, neglected
Like bad food it makes me sick
I've got to find the right person to give it to
Even if it is a god
I can't live with it in here anymore
Takers please

I used to be so aquatinted  
to sleeping alone
but then you came into my life
and you felt like home

Every morning I would wake
with you by my side
and I never once thought I would lose you
but I did
in the blink of an eye

so now here I am
back in my bed
without anyone to hold
without anyone for me to rest my head

here I am sleeping alone
in a place that will never feel like home

j.h.

Forgive

Where is the point I ask?
I know I am blind.
Surely you see me?
Well, can you?

I am sure I’ve missed something.
This really is of urgent matter.
Are you not aquatinted with the mentally ill, you know?

Shallow, yes indeed,the grave is the crown.
This is dignified drama, the finest around.

Mellow? Seems more grey.
A Pesky limited view
Superfluous in knowledge
Don’t ask me anything though
For I do not know.

I’ve been through a lot. Been told I could write a book. To be honest I couldn’t remember all that ****. One thing is I do remember what does stand out. I guess is to where the beginning happens and where it ends off.

I honestly don’t know where to begin. Not like you want to know me. Who the **** are you too?  You know what?  ******* too. Since we are well aquatinted now then maybe we do know each other.

How are you and how you been?  I’m great. Could be better but you know. **** happens all the time. Yea I heard about your **** too. That’s *****. Pretty ****** up man. I hear that **** all the time dude.

I guess you heard all my **** too?  Yeah. Pretty much. No one has nothing better to do but to post up garbage. I don’t really care though. Anyone who knows me would know better.

I don’t think I like people much. I feel like pulling my hair out. Terrible things happen all the time but you have to find a way through them. I’ve been ******* on, yelled and screamed at, cussed and ****** on.

Sometimes the **** was consensual. Hey what ever floats your boat. Not like I would judge you for any excursions. If it makes you happy and it’s legal nor lethal, go for it. Life really is short.

Turns out that I really don’t like writing and I get bored. I’m bored now. I don’t even want to high light or discuss what I said earlier. Not an Indian giver, just hate going through ****. Thoughts and detail do hurt.

I’ve been through a lot. Been told I could write a book. To be honest I couldn’t remember all that ****. One thing is I do remember what does stand out. I guess is to where the beginning happens and where it ends off.

I honestly don’t know where to begin. Not like you want to know me. Who the **** are you too?  You know what?  ******* too. Since we are well aquatinted now then maybe we do know each other.

How are you and how you been?  I’m great. Could be better but you know. **** happens all the time. Yea I heard about your **** too. That’s *****. Pretty ****** up man. I hear that **** all the time dude.

I guess you heard all my **** too?  Yeah. Pretty much. No one has nothing better to do but to post up garbage. I don’t really care though. Anyone who knows me would know better.

I don’t think I like people much. I feel like pulling my hair out. Terrible things happen all the time but you have to find a way through them. I’ve been ******* on, yelled and screamed at, cussed and ****** on.

Sometimes the **** was consensual. Hey what ever floats your boat. Not like I would judge you for any excursions. If it makes you happy and it’s legal nor lethal, go for it. Life really is short.

Turns out that I really don’t like writing and I get bored. I’m bored now. I don’t even want to high light or discuss what I said earlier. Not an Indian giver, just hate going through ****. Thoughts and detail do hurt.

Blah blah blah.  So don’t you ever ask yourself how in the hell did I end up here?  Is it just me or did we all just **** up?  There is always a reason why our lives ended up the way they did. I didn’t ******* put you there but maybe you came along for the ride. I rode along with plenty of strangers here and there.

Strangers are never quite as they seem. If anything they make up about 90 percent of our existence. I **** you not on that one. Your bestie or pal or whoever you are ******* or ******* right now only makes up one percent. Strangers is who we are and the most forgotten of all people in the world. You remember that cool *** party when you’re underage but don’t remember the driver? Maybe the supplier?  **** maybe that cashier that made it all possible even though they knew ****** better?

Either or you get it. You should because the people who you know are surround with haven’t always been on that life’s journey or ride with you. We tend to forget all the insignificant people that made our lives what they are now. We make our own choices but sometimes a commercial in between does tweak us and yes strangers do fit in between that.

Do you actually remember a great stranger experience?  Please let me know if you do. I have very many of them. Many pleasurable and many scary and down right wrong. What’s yours?

I'm busy finding myself and getting aquatinted. Feel like my past body is on the pavement.
It always had to be me who saved me.
Now it's a different picture being painted.

Put me on a t shirt; that death was inevitable. Prolonged for too long because
I was told I wasn't capable.
I dug a grave and now I stand on top of it.
This life has always been some twisted monopoly. So I framed a death for new possibilities.
New ID, new area code.
A brand new home where no one knows me.

Im back to my old dream
since living in a false reality.
Heavily medicated had my foundation cloudy.
I'm out and I'm free from
the chains of my mentality.
Here comes the sun and the summer.
Pink cloud mornings bring on the thunder.
No rain can drown me out.
I prayed for a storm in the face of a drought.
I will scream in the name of resistance and
demand the change that persists. This is it.
Its inevitable.

Last Sunday, the priest told all grandparents to come up front. In celebration for grandparents' day. I couldn't help but feel blue, feel sad, knowing that you're not with us anymore. Tears rolled down my eyes as I felt yearning. I miss you so bad.

It's been three years since you left us. I miss your beautiful smile. I miss seeing you walking around the house. I miss seeing you standing near our fish pond, waiting for a catch. I miss your hugs and kisses. I miss your cooking. I miss you, the entirety of you. I never fully understood the meaning of the  word “mourn” until year 2021.

Grief never left my side once we met.
Grief is a friend for life.
The kind that shows their face in the most unpredictable moments, never fades away or falls out, becoming more aquatinted as we go through life.

Grief is selfish, wanting our undivided attention, expecting us to indulge in its deep dark thoughts with strong pretention.

Grief is harsh, not hiding nor sugarcoating any attack.

Grief is bitter, grief is unkind.
Grief is a thief, stealing my peace of mind.

If only heaven had visiting hours. But I know you're always here guiding us. I know you're still here with us, guiding us every step of the way.

I love you lola.
Three years without you and it feels like yesterday.
Three years without you and the pain is still there.
Three years without you and I'm still yearning for your presence.