There is a void here
She logically stated as though
she were contemplating a
Painter’s incomplete masterpiece
She gazed upward to find
Tinsel pouring from thunderclouds like
God’s perpetually mourning eyes
What is real? she
Mused, bending trees, path and
Buildings before and behind her.
The passage of months, she knew, was
All that could warp her memories of
Denim, cigarettes- most of all
Skin and dawn’s light
A mutual equilibrium was being reached
Give and take-mend, only to break
She hoped ambition and guilt would be
Catalysts to elements only measured in
Half Lives
The sun rising and setting on
Futile stars and gauzy hope.
She could see moonbeams
Clinging to Boathouse awnings
She would never climb again
The airy timbre of the tree’s voice said,
Meanings are multiplying
Squeeze the seconds endowed on so few,
For this motion will never end
Hearts stopped for the girl with the
Silver shoes, who strolled upon the pond
Still, be my dearest, precious dove,
Even as the swan lifts into the noonday
Eighth Floor South
My heartrending crocodile tears burst forth at the sight of the drunken sheen in your eyes. I never know how it will happen, but it always does. Holding onto the promise of forever makes me miss the naïveté I so quickly squelched. Don’t you miss it too, even though I kissed you and lied to you? Those fluorescent moments were made of impossible affection, the kind that no one reasonable invests in. This achy sensation isn’t going away even once the cherry sun has set over the silent mountains and you have long forgotten my dark hair and eyes lying on your pillow. Drowning in misery and futile hope has never been so pleasant and welcome and deserved as it is in this hour. Who can understand our minds? Mine, so contradictory, guilty and pleading, and yours, mysterious and obscured. Your inhibition erased all conviction I held yesterday, the one that said it was over forever. I know it still is, but being ready to believe it is a different undertaking.
“It never rains when you want it to.”
Cautiously, quietly, stealthily, I will seek your thoughts and dreams. While I sleep, moonlight lands on your young face and clinging to you has never been such an inviting concept as it is with rain falling outside the windows of my subconscious. This moment’s photograph is gray and black, but you are gold and green, a wealth of youth and promise. I am but tainted and scarlet, the wind blows from the south fanning the flame of my too-late passion that will do nothing but consume.
Your hands and smell and skin and eyes yanked the tears right out of me, as you endowed a new emotion upon me. Forgiveness is priceless, and earning what you have given me will take months. You tell me I’m beautiful, you tell me that you loved me once, though I am a stranger. People are what life is about, but a giant storm has washed part of you away this summer. Your words have changed my stained skin from red to pure cream, though I don’t quite believe what I see. Can’t I help retrieve the crystal pieces of your heart, the one that I smashed in a drunken stupor? It may never be, but then again, the appearance of green spring is quite shocking to those who have endured endless dreary hours of winter. Either way, what I am sure of is this: this sensation may grow, change or diminish, but it will always exist so long as my chest maintains its erratic rise and fall.
8-9 September 2005
“It never rains when you want it to.”
Cautiously, quietly, stealthily, I will seek your thoughts and dreams. While I sleep, moonlight lands on your young face and clinging to you has never been such an inviting concept as it is with rain falling outside the windows of my subconscious. This moment’s photograph is gray and black, but you are gold and green, a wealth of youth and promise. I am but tainted and scarlet, the wind blows from the south fanning the flame of my too-late passion that will do nothing but consume.
Your hands and smell and skin and eyes yanked the tears right out of me, as you endowed a new emotion upon me. Forgiveness is priceless, and earning what you have given me will take months. You tell me I’m beautiful, you tell me that you loved me once, though I am a stranger. People are what life is about, but a giant storm has washed part of you away this summer. Your words have changed my stained skin from red to pure cream, though I don’t quite believe what I see. Can’t I help retrieve the crystal pieces of your heart, the one that I smashed in a drunken stupor? It may never be, but then again, the appearance of green spring is quite shocking to those who have endured endless dreary hours of winter. Either way, what I am sure of is this: this sensation may grow, change or diminish, but it will always exist so long as my chest maintains its erratic rise and fall.
8-9 September 2005
La Bonita y El Pajaro
Said the sun darkened girl
To the sweet golden bird
“What is the meaning of life?”
“Why to fly and to sing
And live life on the wing-”
The little bird lied “without strife”.
But she looked in the mirror
And it became clearer
That this little bird was not true
He had lied, what he said
Had gone too her head
And the girl’s life was quite out of view
“What ever became
Of just being tame?”
She questioned as she lived on
“Live dangerously”.
This new philosophy
Banished her fears, they were gone!
So life took her here,
And life took her there
And all the while she just grinned
She won many parts,
And sang with her heart
Saying “I’d do it all over again.”
To the sweet golden bird
“What is the meaning of life?”
“Why to fly and to sing
And live life on the wing-”
The little bird lied “without strife”.
But she looked in the mirror
And it became clearer
That this little bird was not true
He had lied, what he said
Had gone too her head
And the girl’s life was quite out of view
“What ever became
Of just being tame?”
She questioned as she lived on
“Live dangerously”.
This new philosophy
Banished her fears, they were gone!
So life took her here,
And life took her there
And all the while she just grinned
She won many parts,
And sang with her heart
Saying “I’d do it all over again.”
Kissing You
Here I stood kissing him
In the morning light of a hung-over day
Kissing him I stood here
Yellow beams enrobing us
As I looked up and kissed him
We kissed, here standing
In marble encased serenity
Never again will I
Kiss this boy here
On this spot
Where I once kissed
His blue eyed beauty
Yearning for his soft cheek
To plant a kiss upon
His hands in my hair
And mine in his
Carried away on an
Irreversible current
I drink them
I bathe in them
Those hours of gold
Kisses can be forgettable
But ours were
Piano-crashing
Plumeria-scented
Caramel-coated
Teal blue-streaked
Tree-shaded
Long eye lashed—
Kisses.
In the morning light of a hung-over day
Kissing him I stood here
Yellow beams enrobing us
As I looked up and kissed him
We kissed, here standing
In marble encased serenity
Never again will I
Kiss this boy here
On this spot
Where I once kissed
His blue eyed beauty
Yearning for his soft cheek
To plant a kiss upon
His hands in my hair
And mine in his
Carried away on an
Irreversible current
I drink them
I bathe in them
Those hours of gold
Kisses can be forgettable
But ours were
Piano-crashing
Plumeria-scented
Caramel-coated
Teal blue-streaked
Tree-shaded
Long eye lashed—
Kisses.
46 Minute Nap
In that 46 minute nap
Traced my past over about
Eight thousand times
Thought of a hundred people
I hope are dreaming of me
In the three-quarters journey
Unearthed days worth of
Whining, dying, breathing
Filling my glass with
Its thick, slimy time
Where does it all run to?
Just look: So far down
To witness Romeo retreating
Over my garden wall
Petrified at the falling grains of sand
Yet here I lie spinning
Two bronzed legs craning
For familiar footholds
In a time warp of lewd desire
But around me Water
Traced my past over about
Eight thousand times
Thought of a hundred people
I hope are dreaming of me
In the three-quarters journey
Unearthed days worth of
Whining, dying, breathing
Filling my glass with
Its thick, slimy time
Where does it all run to?
Just look: So far down
To witness Romeo retreating
Over my garden wall
Petrified at the falling grains of sand
Yet here I lie spinning
Two bronzed legs craning
For familiar footholds
In a time warp of lewd desire
But around me Water
And Sky are still one.
Oh the Austerity of Affection
Dim false walls
And dimmer lights
In the gray-gold greenness
Of dejection
Ability endowed on some
Like great juicy plums
False laughter
Rings in these ears
A stinging painful gong
Reminds me
Smiles and tingles
So soon lost
Wanting so deeply
The elusive faceless
Ghostman of devotion
Escapes in the velvet
With a spark
A gasp of steam
Cape swishes away
Into the recesses
Of the psyche
And dimmer lights
In the gray-gold greenness
Of dejection
Ability endowed on some
Like great juicy plums
False laughter
Rings in these ears
A stinging painful gong
Reminds me
Smiles and tingles
So soon lost
Wanting so deeply
The elusive faceless
Ghostman of devotion
Escapes in the velvet
With a spark
A gasp of steam
Cape swishes away
Into the recesses
Of the psyche
Black Spanish Morning
Rain clatters
On wooden shutters
Through cobblestone
Worn smooth
Early morning
Sun not risen
My warmth held
Close to you
Lips moisten
Blue eyes glisten
We share sweet
Secret smiles
Ever shifting
Ever moving
I know you’ll
Never be here
Intriguing, shining
Jaded, enticing
The ephemeral
Essence of you
On wooden shutters
Through cobblestone
Worn smooth
Early morning
Sun not risen
My warmth held
Close to you
Lips moisten
Blue eyes glisten
We share sweet
Secret smiles
Ever shifting
Ever moving
I know you’ll
Never be here
Intriguing, shining
Jaded, enticing
The ephemeral
Essence of you
The Self Devouring Blossom
Green singeing heat tears through
My vision like razor wire
Covetousness consumes me fully
As the desire to be wanted
Overtakes my vague semblance
Of bright, warm, fierce reality
There exists an unopened bud
Yearning for blooming and enrapturement
Yet petrified at the mention of a latespring frost
So, closed my leaves will stay
Protecting the crimson petals from
Loving sunbeams and sheer beauty
Healing raindrops and possible pain
Instead, searing bolts of emerald envy
Will burn away at what is left
Inside this jaded soul
Why I wish only for his pain
Is beyond the comprehension
Of my once-thought compassionate façade
The all-too-natural selfishness
Resurfaces from the near opaque water
Of the heart of all humanity
“We all just want to be loved.”
But the off-chance remains
That some force will one day
Persuade these steel locked petals
However timidly to bloom.
Please, let it be today.
My vision like razor wire
Covetousness consumes me fully
As the desire to be wanted
Overtakes my vague semblance
Of bright, warm, fierce reality
There exists an unopened bud
Yearning for blooming and enrapturement
Yet petrified at the mention of a latespring frost
So, closed my leaves will stay
Protecting the crimson petals from
Loving sunbeams and sheer beauty
Healing raindrops and possible pain
Instead, searing bolts of emerald envy
Will burn away at what is left
Inside this jaded soul
Why I wish only for his pain
Is beyond the comprehension
Of my once-thought compassionate façade
The all-too-natural selfishness
Resurfaces from the near opaque water
Of the heart of all humanity
“We all just want to be loved.”
But the off-chance remains
That some force will one day
Persuade these steel locked petals
However timidly to bloom.
Please, let it be today.
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