Unfastening Romanticism

Can you take the reality of us from me
with just mere words, un-sow the seeds
of love painstakingly planted in the spring,
and blow the silver lining gray?

Destruct-design the dreams off my pillow,
sculpture-smooth tears yet to come,
with the tick-tock of unwinding hands,
making untrue the moments we shared.

Will you belie those steadfast beats,
pressed chest to chest, with a quicksand
foundation swallowing all that was, shifting
tides and winds alike till no true north exists?

The time has come to look into my eyes
and speak, will you unweave the fate
like an unraveling thread leaving me
bare, exposed like carrion to sadness?

Scoptophilia

I lie in my bed, Sunday best dressed,
staring at the ceiling, plaster spattered,
two colorless eyes stare back,
pushed from the texture, blinking,
lamentations of fragments,
mosiaced refraction jointed
in tears, ran like hot flux,
as I watch me, looking down
from the ceiling, looking up
at my own eyes, transfixed -
locked in a staring contest
against myself, losing tides
of time, until I am interrupted --
by a single knock upon the bedroom door.

Megathermal Relations

A desert of broken dreams,
dried and cracked, crunched
under foot as I walk, baked
under the heat of your gaze,
glazed like glass, sheened-shined
winking flirtation like refracted reflections
of what was once tears.

We lie in the night -
hard packed ground beneath,
soft painted clouds of sky above,
palms pressed as we hold hands
in a death grip, we two -
two eyes looking out at the world,
all seeing, blinded only to ourselves.

Lost at Sea

The sea, the he,
resides within me,
and I within the sea.

This storm inside,
passion of wind and wave,
blowing beneath the surface,
murky depths concealed.

I have loved the sun
and the earth, each
in its way, but the sea
claims me.

I breathe his salted water,
it fills my burning lungs,
I am consumed within
the rhythm of his rolling
gusto, that leaves me bruised,
aching, awash in the
familiarity of him.

His love devastates me -
raw, savage, and un-reined,
and as I lose consciousness,
his love echoes through out.

Sunrise

I feel the sun, warm
upon my flesh,
heating me to life.

Defrosting the layers
I have been buried for years.

I dance in emotions,
brilliant to behold,
jubilation, contentment, joy;
such things darkness knows not,
such things cannot be held -
cannot be touched.

I lay in summer fields of phlox,
eagerly colored blossoms
drinking of my light.

I am a dancer of the heavens,
my own muse, I need not
inspiration.

Creation resides within me,
penned to life upon the page,
the living of my mind takes form,
and I become the sun shining
on all the life I have shaped.

Myriad of Morning Mentalities

Another day dawns without you,
I lie in my bed thinking of you,
long past the moments of waking.

I think about your smile often,
its gentle and sincere curve,
and that it appears modestly -
not too often and not too seldom,
but enough to be appreciated.

I think about your arms,
the how they naturally find
a way to hold me,
non invasive, not demanding,
just reassuring.

I think about the future,
if a future is possible,
what will it bring,
will I have mornings with you,
or just these fantasies?

I think about your day
and wonder how it will be,
if my feelings will be enough,
if you will be truly happy with me?

I think and think and then
I try to just stop, and enjoy the
moments we have had
and to look forward to more.

Slipping

I packed away an old love,
with tears and memories,
It was hard to do,
to put you away from me,
but I have another -
so you remind me.

I thought I stowed away
the last traces of you,
but you lingered,
tiny parts of you -
like dust I didn't see
and I could feel you
in the air.

You refuse to completely go,
and I have slipped,
I remember what it is like
to want you, to love you,
to never be without you -
and I am lost in thoughts of you.

As I lie looking out without you

I, in my bed darling, look out at the sky,
the rain coming down, the clouds
clustering darkly, and I feel your arms
come around me from behind
drawing me close, as we lie together
looking out the window beside the bed.

I feel your heart beating -
through your skin, through mine,
pressed together and I imagine
your smile, I feel it is there.

I hear your voice in my ear,
whispered, hushed.
Words only meant for me,
and I feel my own smile,
content in the moment.

The world ceases to be
aside from our view,
what matters most
exists between us -
the way our bodies touch,
the sight we share,
this moment we claim
for our own.

The Music

I hear the music,
the songs that we should share,
the words we would have written.

I see the envy of faces,
those who wished to be me,
those who wished to be you.

I feel this love,
intoxicating in full bloom,
but wasted.

I write my name in the stars
alone where two names
should cross.

When I hear that music
the longing stirs in my heart
and I see the empty in the distance.

To the Moonless Sky

Sometimes the living of life gets too hard,
and I want to skim the pages,
look ahead to when its easier,
or close my eyes and pretend
like I don't exist.

We stood in the rain together
when we were kids,
and you took your shirt off,
held it over my head,
to try to keep me dry.

You held me when I cried alone,
when there was only darkness,
when no one else could see or hear me,
I was invisible like you.

You're the voice on the wind,
that tells me to wait,
to hide who I am -
until you come to get me,
for only with you will I be
truly safe and happy.

I am the moon,
and you are my sky,
I cannot be without you,
I hear you call to me
and my eyes look upwards -
searching and waiting.

Life cycle of the Divine

In the first summer, she exhaled her divine spark –
took it in her hands and fashioned it
into a golden arrow, gleaming and long.

Notching back her bow, she aimed it high,
arms quivering in effort from her deep draw,
fingers blistering as she loosed it into the night.

A ringing sound broke the silence as
it cut the air like a gold comet thrown
by the hands of god at the heart of the moon.

Free from spirit her body fell into shadows,
her listless eyes watched the sky, oblivious
as to what could, would happen next.

Her arrow of creation plunged into the moon,
a slow seep of golden glow overtook
the usual silvery light welling from the center.

Erupting in orange gold flames the moon
became molten, burning steadily,
until nothing more than a shower of glowing ashes.

The heavens blessed this shower as it fell to earth,
down through the sky onto the archer,
chasing away darkness and shadows.

She alone stood in the field under a moonless sky,
covered in the ash of moon and creation,
rediscovered, reborn, renewed.

The journey she began as woman, as arrow
as the moon shining down, culminated in the
exhalation, piercing the layers of who she was.

Literary Fornix

They two danced in and out of words
like ying and yang, they pulled and pushed
one another, creativity ebbed and flowed
between their minds, one muse.

So when he slows and is quiet,
she races forward, fingers gliding
along the keyboard
as if she were composing music.

Music speaks to him, he sings along,
lost in the lyrics, no time to write,
but the tides feel the pull of the moon,
and she looks back over her shoulder.

The sight of him distracts her,
and she drifts in reverie as he
spins his own words into story,
a novelist at heart.

Can you keep up poetess
his eyes ask, her smile
says try me, and the night
is filled with keystrokes.

Puzzling out myself

Write! says the voice in my head
and so my fingers fly
words spinning out of nothingness
darkness invading
pushing me evermore down.

This is your constant
Always will it welcome you
back into the darkess.

Fractured fragments
of heart felt dreams
lie lifelessly, listlessly
forgotten on the floor -
Who would want them now?

A jigsaw puzzle missing pieces
misunderstood art
I am passed over
in the bargain bin.

I am my own worst enemy
I argue with myself
and no one interjects
on my behalf.

And so on
and so on it goes,
pushing me forward
telling me to write
commanding me
in imperative tones
I cannot ignore.

Senex

Eight nights we been here,
gathered in celebration,
all in your honor.
your favorite foods prepared-
spread out on the long table.

Tonight we turned your bed
to lean against the wall,
You will pass from the house,
through the celebration and
into the ground.

Lover With Green Eyes

My luck is buried within the green of your eyes,
cast your blessed stare upon me, I am lost
in the intensity of those eyes - your eyes beloved.

I dream in hues of jaded greens, with long
stares and gifted fingers, satin sheets
on naked skins, and you... just you.

Fly me to those unknown heights,
twined in silk our bodies delighted,
inseperably melded into one.

Dance in my emotions with your gaze,
spell my name with tongue and lips
Until every moment echoes - just you... just you.

A World Apart - II

Juliette, blue dreamer
spin me a dream on clouds,
one to sway me to sleep,
filled with hope.

I see the world in your eyes,
a world I have never known,
let me in, dreamer
dance me to the stars.

Lay in the field of dandelions
and let's blow our wishes
into the wind and watch
them twirl away.

We will sleep under the ocean,
looking up at the sky
through the shimmer of waves,
with diamond eyes.

Take me to that world
where tears are only of joy,
where love speaks my name,
and I am never alone.

North by Northwest

I waited for you beneath the western hemlock
in my hair tucked behind my ear, a pink rhododendron.

The willow goldfinch overhead sat, singing
its wild canary song.

We shall drift on the place like wild seeds
blown in the wind.

Cascades of needles fall around me, as I
sit waiting for that beautiful man to come
walking through the trees, eyes always on me.

My heart beats in the northwest, my home
is where we lie together under the hemlock
sharing kisses and counting stars.

Seeing and Believing

I first saw you sitting in the ivy,
beneath the tall oak

The wind blew soft clouds
through your hair.

Your eyes came alive
at the sight of me, sun
shining through their hue.

Then you smiled at me,
that heart-melting,
make-me-weak-in-the-knees smile.

So I sat in the english ivy with you,
beneath the tall oak, in the moment
between our eyes, in which no words
were needed.

You wrapped your arms around me,
and I have been there ever since,
leaning against you, breathing with you,
believing in the nature of us.

Quicksilver Night

Two am end of the night,
bare feet on the white sanded
road, and it starts to rain.

You sit in the car, watching
as I look up at the sky
and smile at the feeling on my skin.

Chill in the air invades
behind the trails of wet,
and goosebumps appear.

Rain caresses my hair
sectioning it into tresses
clinging with moist possessiveness.

My dress becomes a lover
clinging to my curves,
holding me tight.

I dance in the rain,
in the black of the night
under moonlit clouds.

I am your silver seductress,
swaying with my own music,
you unable to look away.

In time, time too will stop

Like time, I too have become weary of my being. Unable to turn around, unable to stop. Its a hypnotic tick, that keeps me alive. The winding, the shaking, the distasteful battery of life.

Can anyone hear my screams between each second or see my tears raining from 12 to 6. I want to shatter the glass that hold me in and burst out of the smooth metal wheels that keep me screwed in.

Death promises everyone, but to me, it torments. Forcing me to watch the world die.

Infusion

I found myself tonight,
never knowing I was looking,
but there I was
waiting for myself.

Emotions steeped in memory,
truth serum made from the teas
of time and flavored with
bittersweet tears.

One lump or two,
rising in my throat like
the thickening emotions
of my past.

Can't Stop the Noise

Typing the words only seems to have given life to it,
to the paranoia that has plagued me all morning,
and now I am steeped in it.

I gave all of myself, held nothing back,
Only to realize I threw myself into the wind,
ashes scattered across the sugar-sand road.

No way to tell where it begins and I end -
recycled love from past lives I try to hold
together, to make it work.

My dysfunctional mind has vomited
all over my disjointed hands and
I can't seem to get past it.

I've broken it.
I've ruined it,
and when I need you the most,
you can't be here.

A Taraxacum Dance

Dancing arms flung into the wind
twirling gracefully a lone dandelion seed.

White skirt fully extended, a single
long black leg pointed.

I am a dancing alone,
but I have a partner -
like that tiny puff on the wind
I dance with myself,
for myself.

Every turn is ecstacy,
the spinning sensation
drawn through me,
and I am caught
and carried on the wind.

My Lips are Sealed

I take out my needle and thread,
with careful hands I push the end
through the eye, drawing the length.

I silently sew my lips together,
needle piercing flesh, white thread
becomes red as it is pulled through.

I lock my secrets away, my voice,
I close out the world, nothing gains
entry, tightly stitching closed my mouth.

Making Music

Inspire me -
your intimate instrument
I was designed
to be played
by your hands.

Bound in temptation
I linger
anxiously awaiting
your next touch.

Fingers brush skin
a dancing rush
of sensations.

There are sounds -
expressions I make
that can only be coaxed out
by you.

No More Dresses

They called me Jimmy,
the boy with no hair,
the girl with no dreams,
but I was more than that.

Daddy loved me
but dismissed me,
we never were ones
to talk, just silence.

They never asked,
I never told, but the eyes,
all those eyes,
wondered aloud - Why?

I didn’t want to be
a girl with no dreams,
not allowed to dream
because I was a girl.

I wanted freedom
so I made a bargain
with the ancient gods,
and traded my hair.

They called me Jimmy,
I never missed being a girl,
but I could still see those eyes,
wondering aloud why why why.

United We Stand

I tripped over you one night,
lying on the floor, a single eye
opened, dragging in breaths.

I lay in the darkness beside you,
curious as to what I'd come by,
staring as if I could see you.

We existed on that hard cold floor,
for days on end, time stretching out
and slowing down, losing count.

Finally you spoke to me, and
the darkness wasn't just a place,
it was a voice, a feeling.

Your voice kept repeating, echoing
my thoughts, how we managed
to find each other in the vastness.

Then our fingers touched and sparked,
light began, and I saw you there,
as you had been, waiting for me.

Light grew until we stood
in our own sun, shining, bright
and with eyes that could not look away.

Thermal

The nursey fence cried icicles,
and our breath hung in the air
haunting us in exhaled heat.

We walked quicker for the nip
in the air that pinked our cheeks
and sought a way past our layers.

The sun rose but never showed,
concealed from sight -
the warmth of the day never was.

But the light was there in your face,
and the heat in glaces that past between us,
though we never touched a gloved hand to hand.

Life in Print

Two lines of five and you were but the last,
trees of pine stand non linear.

The trees are tall and graceful --
pretty even in their own way,
but they don't offer much in the way of comfort,
needles provide scarce shade,
so they will make paper from you.

The paper will be recycled,
printed upon again and again,
and how you see yourself will change,
maybe even one day it will show you the truth.

One of my favourite hindi poems

A golden cage may entice a person for some time but then there is a yearning for freedom… and a nostalgia about the bygone days when freedom was taken for granted. Here is a lovely poem by "Shivmangal Singh Suman".

हम पंछी उन्मुक्त गगन के

-शिवमंगल सिंघ सुमन

हम पंछी उन्मुक्त गगन के
पिंजरबद्ध ना गा पाऐंगे,
कनक-तीलियों से टकरा कर
पुलकित पंख टूट जाऍगे।

हम बेहता जल पीने वाले
मर जाऍगे भूखे-प्यासे,
कहीं भली हैं कटूक निबोरी
कनक-कटोरी की मैदा से।

स्वर्ण-श्रंखला के बंधन में
अपनि गति, उड़ान सब भूले,
बस सपनों में देख रहे हैं
तरु की फुनगी पर के झूले

ऍसे थे अरमान कि उड़ते
नील गगन की सीमा पाने
लाल किरण-सी चोंच खोल
चुगते तारक-अनार के दाने।

होती सीमाहीन क्षितिज से
इन पंखो कि होड़ा-होड़ी,
या तो क्षितिज मिलन बन जाता
या तनती सांसों की डोरी।

नीड़ न दो चाहे टेहनी का
आश्रय छिन्न-भिन्न कर डालो,
लेकिन पंख दिये हैं तो
आकुल उड़ान में विघ्न न डालो।

[Source : http://www.geeta-kavita.com/Default.asp]

The Wind Blew West

I sit in the ledge of the window,
looking out at the trees,
how I love their sway in the wind,
a warm cup of peppermint tea
steaming in my hands.

A longing pulls through the panes
and I stare out the glass wanting
to join the wind, to fly boundless
to scatter the leaves, to caress the grasses,
to whip and twist around branches
and brambles, to gust with enthusiasm.

I sit in the ledge of a window in the
shadowed and forgotten dining room,
looking out at my father and brother
playing in nature, I long to return
to those olden days, long forgotten days
of breezy freedom and mused afternoons.

Introspecting Time

Time is my scorned lover -
Stalking me,
The restless pacing
of her tick-tocking
echoes
in tone deaf hollows
of empty ears.

It is the moment
before explosion
Breath held,
Uneven strokes
of hands unwinding -

This tick seems to stick.

Wheels and gears
keeping an unseen rhythmn
of a numbered space
in walking time.

Stretching out in
obscene dreams...
And yet -
it all passes
in a single burst of breath.

Under Empathic Skies

I am sitting under the night sky,
on the glider in the back yard;
the night blooming jasmine bush
is bent in arches heavy with scent.

I sway to and fro lazily,
my eyes search the midnight blue
sea of dancing stars,
and it begins to rain.

Warm fat drops plop
onto my skin, sensational
contact like clouded tears,
the skies see my lonely.

I hold myself rocking,
promising myself you -
waiting because its only you,
and my mind wonders when.

My second skin clothes
weigh me down,
my slick skin and hair
hold me in.

Tonight I bathe in the mourning
of darkened skies, witnesses
to my reaching arms
that close only around myself.

Breaking the Box

You know not what you have asked,
I think as I sit in front of that box,
my hands slide over the antique leather
feeling the aged cracks, I’ve packed it
well with memories, those I couldn’t
face, the ones that were eating through me,
the things that are hard to say in the light,
that find a way to bleed through bandages
at two am when I am alone.

I finger the brass lock, flirting with it,
the idea of chasing after you, down
that darkened road, I feel your thunder
rumbling the floor, I see your lightning
flashing through the panes, ride the skies
you whisper, wanting me to let go.

A tear glides down my face,
I feel a little darker now, a little
seeping now, because this box
doesn’t exist, I only tell myself
it does, I only grasp at control,
its so easy to flip, so easy to slip,
so easy to let go, and for you -
I would peel back my fingers
from the ledge as you jump
through your window, and we
would fall and fall and fall together.

Summer Day Dreams

I sit on the glider under the water oak,
the wind runs through my hair, tugging
it playfully, honey suckle scent
infused breeze whispers
to me about you.

You lay down across the glider,
head in my lap, eyes looking up
and smile as I flow my fingers
through your hair.

I sway the hinges
we drift in our own world,
one that exists between
our eyes, and I hear your voice
as you sing to me softly
and the clouds roll by.

Pursuit

The horseman rides
into the south searching,

Seeking to claim
what he lost –

a woman, the woman.

Mythological ties,

How dare she
think to break,
she is his
prize to be won,
win he did,
yet she ran.

Alpha male,
the libertine comes
into the night
whiskey breathed
his eyes raking
Its not over,
Its never over.

Destined

I finally believe in happy endings,
all it took was finding the one -
the man I have dreamed about
for so long though I dared not
let myself believe you existed.

Oh but you do, and you are standing
before me, saying those words
that I have waited my life so far to hear,
to believe, to embrace.

I am light headed, giddy,
overjoyed - elated!
but mostly I am yours,
so very very yours,
and I could never belong
with anyone else.

Aeolus

Father 'Wind' came to me today,
as I walked along the path alone.

Blow away the nothingness,
I asked him and he smiled.

He blows the hollow sound out,
and wrapped around my shoulders.

His hand beneath my chin,
keeping my eyes on the clouds.

He rocks me as his babe,
twirling my shining locks.

He comforts me in whispers -
softly blown lullabies.

Make me whole again I say,
and the wind blows hard.

Happen Upon his Words

He has a vicious capacity for language.

words are his weapons --

and he is well armed.

Drop a jaw with turn of phrase,
she never knew what hit her...

smack dab in the middle
of her fractured heart,
fragilely beating to the rythmn
of his name.

She watches his lips
form her death and rebirth.

Fragments of One

My eyes hold yours
across such distance
and still I know -

What echoes in me
echoes in you
darkness flows in the mind
in words we both read
in those looks we share.

I have died with you
in every death attempt -
we have lain on the floor
together in spirit
never knowing the other -
bought each other
in blood and tears.

Some nights still
we are on seperate floors
reaching for the other
never quite seeing
we are always together
in the darkness
that comes.

Matter of the Heart

I am lost in the strands of your hair,
the way words formed on your lips,
the way my name sounded in the tone
of your voice, the name only you call me.

I am undone when you said those small-
huge words, "Be mine forever", like a movie
response my heart jumped up and down,
it cried yes yes yes, the words echo.

I am breathless when you described
the feeling of coming home, a moment
shared between only us, intense
and deep, two naked souls.

I am dreaming of those early days,
of walks on the beach at night,
the simple way you said you would,
it was always meant to be with you.

I am glowing at the sound of your voice,
at your gentle reassurances and strong embrace,
at the possibilities that stretch out before us,
at that thought of being with you always.

Petrichor

The rain has come
and cooled the ground
renewing the colors,
everything amplified
in wet.

Oh those shady days
of cloud filled skies
and leaf papered ground,
I exhale out the previous days.

How lovely the trees
darkened brown bark
wetted rich colors,
brilliant green leaves
glistening with gloss.

I smattered with residual drops
sit in dampened discarded leaves
looking up at the sky, lulled
by the cooling breeze.

High Tide

I close my eyes and see -
myself as I am, you
as you always have been,
it is night, the moon
is cloudhidden, the stars
but whispers reflected
upon the dark rolling ocean.

Every moment you make -
deliberate, the slipping
of lace from my shoulder,
satin from my thighs,
brush of your warm hand,
my heart is beating faster,
but time has slowed, lulling
like the waves.

A lifetime of pleasures
exhaled at the touch
of your lips upon my skin.

The urgency of lips upon lips
in kisses that steal the breath.

The waves come harder
and faster, though time
stretches out, the world
is only this, only us -
only this moment;
the moment too intense
to stop, to pause, to hesitate,
the moment we claim as ours.

We become one,
you, me, the sea, the sky
moving in unison,
Inhale each other,
exhaled into the sky,
pushed back inside
with rhythm of the waves,
tumbling through you,
pressing you further
into me, two lovers
caught in the play

of wave and wind.

The Past Revisited

The moment has past,
The danger has ceased,
The shift in power averted,
For I am the one who holds the cards.

Creator of stars,
Keeper of my own destiny,
I lay down my standards,
I draw my own lines.

I shall live life my way -
For it is the only way in which,
I shall be truly happy.
I call no man master.

I am the decendant of royality,
I am the rebirth of creation,
I am the goddess divine,
I know myself like no other.

My place is where I wish it,
Not within your arms,
I do not bend - I do not yield,
I do not compromise.

For if you want a simpering angel,
To accept you for who you are,
Cast your eyes down from me -
And settle for her charms.

Every man I meet -
I meet with the same fire and passion,
I will not be tamed, I will not be restrained,
For this I shall never apologize.

Although I know of my vanity,
I also have a price to pay,
I walk along often alone,
There are few who share my vision.

The elements keep me comfort,
in the quiet of day and night,
For passion rarely slumbers,
And my soul is never quiet.

The world is but my playground,
A thing of simple delights,
A place to stop and wonder,
To enjoy those often overlooked sights.

Words are my forte,
They flock to me with glee,
Begging for my consideration,
Everso eager to please.

And so the Goddess of deepest blackest eyes,
Writes with the diviness of her soul,
Pouring her thought past her cherry wood tresses,
On to the paper to be met with the eyes of many.

Skies in my Eyes

For quite some time now,
I have believed

Howard hung the moon.

His hands know just how to hold

To lift off high into the sky
perfectly calculated degrees.

A tug of his lips and that smile
graces the sky, lighting up the night
my eyes upon the moon as I sigh.

The moon is hung in the night sky
as it could only be hung by his hands
I believe Howard hung the moon.

Taking Over

I had a dream last night...

He's waiting for me now
I can feel it

He's calling for me
So close now
I can feel the road taking over
As it pulls me to a new destination
Somewhere previously unseen
As the way becomes narrower
My mind makes quick logs of the change in atmosphere
My body begins to acclimate
And the bead of sweat completes the circuit of thought running along my face
The stars beg me to still believe

I believe

He's dragging me closer to him

So he can throw me with all his strength in the other direction

But it's okay
The sand soaks up all the sweat

Between the Sea and Me

Dead skin always wears the same putrid scent. The only way to feel again is to slowly peel through the layers until you feel the sharp pierce of a gentle touch on raw flesh. We use whatever tools we have, we make some up.

We learn to bury our dead.

And my head hangs low, horns twisted round themselves. I think I could learn to make this right. After all, there's no one left to blame except my father's only daughter.

I think often of redemption. I meditate on martyrdom.
My satyr horns tangle deeper in the underbrush. My saturnine hooves forget how to kick.

But I'd like to switch my metaphors, please.
These wings are weak, but we'll make it home, I swear. And if I heed my own warnings, I will abide. We will feel alive. In here, in there, wherever. Who cares?

I'm well acquainted with passion. At times, overwhelming, I know.
But who needs the sun, anyway? I've always thrived at night.

Burning of Troy

I remember the way he stroked the keys,
the wave of his voice sounded out,
the boy he started out as, and I

that commanding woman as unfolded.
How we fought, oh those nights
I screamed through the phone,
I slammed it down and he laughed.


How he knew me, knew me
well, and knew when we talked
there were no sparks, but forest fires
raging out of control, how deep his
desire, his urge to possess.


Yet I burned right through him
could not hold onto me, as his
hands burned, his eyes blinded
we tangoed in tangled sheets
high above mankind, planting
seeds of memories, how he
dreamed, dreams still, of every
sway of my hips, the way I
bite my bottom lip, that light
in my eyes as it clicks,
and the anger that seared him
quiet, for no longer
does he voice his claim,
I am my own keeper,
divine woman on fire,
creator of stars, destiny
in hand, I walk forward still.

Rekindled

My eyes come alive and I read
those sentimental verses of sap,
I look in the mirror and laugh
where did that come from?

I peel away the sugar coated skin,
flinging it away, as far away as I can,
That thing has crept over me again,
that horror that changes me,
sucks the life from me,
and makes me demure.

How I hate that look on my face,
staring back at me, this is not
who I am, I worked too hard
to give it all up for nothing.

Let me open that box
empty it and lie in it
for this path is death
and it is not me, I am
the pulsing in the night,
that all men reach for
and I will not be dimmed,
I will not tiptoe
I command attention
with this face that inspires men.

Displacement

Red embers flow down my wrists
From cigar ashes like a river of sticks
The cold gnawing at my fingertips
A car window barely cracked
The singer in the background
He doesn't cease, he cannot
Provides me with the chorus
The verse and the song
Prose-poetry, heartfelt and intermingled
He's delivering the Vedas
I'm enraptured
"God will forgive me, but I, I whip myself with scorn."
Driving to a nowhere destination
In my mind
There will come a day when this will all give out
And running dry, the fish in my stream
Will stare blankly up to me, questioning
Hear them screaming for the waters
What they cannot live without
And haven't the strength to search for
In a sea of salt, face down and dazed
Every slight laceration burning
Every little wound cut right open again
I hold myself....silent
Contained, probing, searching
Where have all my fish gone to?
Evaporated, dried up and gone
Left me here with this over abundance of nothing
This pathetic, useless mineral deposit
A hole in the world in place of my old Taoist river
I've lost the flow
And going against is just endless suffering
Being thrown in every which way
"Don't build your world around....volcanoes melt you down."

Don't Call My Name

If things remain this way
Then, I'm pulling out, I'm through
Just thought you deserved to know
And that's exactly why I'm not telling you
So, when you get this message
Don't bother trying to return it

Because....

Of everything
And now that you're out of sight
Believe me when I tell you
You're out of mind
.
.
.
.
I'm still thinking about you

She Bears No Fruit

The barren tree crooked and bent,
like a senile old woman,
has forgotten what she is for,
has forgotten how it feels
to have leaves growing
in her branches.

She no longer feels the rush

of food through her core,
photosynthesized memories
are her only nourishment.

She forgets the feeling of Spring,
her youths bloomed and blown
in the breeze, now she is brittle
long past any usefulness,
it’s only a matter of time
before dry rot sets in.

Welling Up

"Nobody loves me."

Drunk on your laughter. Your tears bleeding through my eyes. Drowning now in something incomprehensible and vague. I know you know exactly what I mean.

"Nobody loves me."

Forcing down these tears in a backroom bathroom. My palm against the wall. Waiting for you to come and end this. Waiting for you to put a stop to it all.

"Nobody loves me....It's true."

The world ceased spinning yesterday. I watched everyone flail away. And I wonder if we'll ever again be the same. Ever get back to this. And have control once more.

"Nobody loves me....It's true."

Picking out your voice in a crowd of thousands. Seeking desperately for a glimpse of your face. I need to touch you. I need to feel this. I need to find myself weak and vulnerable. You leave me

completely

defenseless.

"'Cause nobody loves me....It's true....Not like you do."

Awaiting Sturmaz

We were clouded lovers,
with lightening in our veins
and thunder between our lips,
rolling in raindrops,
nothing between us but a wisp
of darkened sky.

Oh the storms we stirred between us,
silent and smoldering grayed skies,
weeping softly, violent winds
and pelting hail, torrents of downpours
saturating the ground.

I still see storm clouds
when I look in your eyes,
I still feel the lightening
coursing through me,
and I wait for you in the sky,

come make rain with me.

How Mature

This makes me want to breathe again
Somewhere along the way
I must have forgotten how
So, now I'm taking lessons from another
I'm pretty sure that lesson number one
Was to keep your head above the surface
"With focus that's strong, but my strength keeps slipping."
I'll work on step number two when I get there
It's so easy to fall back sometimes
However....
Push things forward
"And I admire your strength. You keep us going on. You keep us fighting long after the fire."

Insomnia

We sleep in shifts, never seeming
the same time scheme, dreams
never overlapping.

I watch you sleeping, I can't
bring myself to stay still, to lay
beside you in what would
surely be a time in which we
could sleep together.

I make use instead of your
slumber by writing to you,
by thinking about you, afraid
I might miss something if -
I just close my eyes.

Recovering in Reds

You have saved me in so many ways,
and I don't think you can see it.
Saved me from holding on
to a sinking ship relation.
Saved me from the 3am
loneliness that whispers in the dark.
Saved me from false friends
that I could not see.
Saved me from surpressing
the truest part of who I am.
Saved me from a life
of never knowing you -
for that is even painful to imagine.
Saved me with a soulful bond
spanning lifetimes and echoing
even now in your eyes
as you reach out again to save me.

Sometimes Your Memory Is Enough

I close my eyes and you are there,
your eyes always upon me,
that smile I love ever present.

I open my eyes and you are gone,
empty hand reaches out into empty night,
and remains empty.

I listen to the sounds echoing
in the night, they are soft sounds,
secret sounds, that whisper to me.

I hear your voice when I listen
to the sounds in the night, I
remember your voice vividly.

I wrap my arms around your memory,
I close my eyes and you hold me too,
and all I can hear is the sound of your voice.

Hold me dearest, I say, as only you can,
I need you now and always - And you smile
that smile I love and I remember.

To The Aviator

Fly with me he whispers as I open
my eyes and see only him.

I would go anywhere
as long as I am with you.

My feet have not touched
the ground since. Lifetimes
echo in his voice, in his touch -
lifetimes of belonging together,
belonging to each other.

Look at the clouds, see
how they welcome us,
part for us, caress us.

This is how it was always
supposed to be, you and me
high above the world.

Fly with me he says,
and I look to see I already am -
I have been
for as long as I can
remember.

Wispy Notions

Paint me a moon, and I
will plant my dreams upon it,
fold it into an airplane
and sail it through the sky.

String me pearls, and I
will press them to my skin,
to feel your fingers upon them,
and the thread through me.

Bloom me a rose, and I
scribe our dreams on each petal,
with kisses from my lips,

and the breaths we have shared.

Seism

Evidence of something so much. So much clarity. Pensive for a day or two. Thinking only for a moment. Only of a moment.

We have this state of being known as hope.

"We give up, we give in without blinking. Good Lord, what was I thinking?"

Out With The Tide

I compress my tears
into diamonds,
twinkling stars,
hundreds of them.

I pour them in your hand,
trusting you with my fortune.

They slip through your fingers
and you pay no attention,
your eyes upon my face.

Diamonds fall like tears
into the sand, to be washed
away with the touch of the surf.

You let the last few fall
banishing the past,
and those reasons
that I had cried
as only you could.

Wave Goodbye

Heartfelt tragedies are just cheap attempts at escape from reality
This is what's really going on
Feel nothing and live with it
The heart is all that's frozen

Descent Theory

Stack the cups upside down,
so nothing can fall in them.

She pushes him away emotionally,
changing the subject
when conversations get hard.

She cries in the shower
not to be heard, so no
one can see.

Stack the cups right side up,
they dry better that way.

She tells him how it hurts
til the tears surge past lashes,
how the loneliness settles
in the early hours, how
the voices whisper
she is meant to be alone.

Stack the cups back to front,
its easier to see what you have.

She does not blush
as she takes off her clothes.
She lays unabashedly nude
in the light of day. She knows
how to tempt him with her nakedness.

Stack the cups front to back,
you don't have to reach as far.

She cannot walk away
from him, he is far too addicting.
He says the what she longs to hear,
You're beautiful, I want you, I love you.
Her sensative side romanced.

Or better yet --
Don't stack the cups at all.

Subjectivity of Hughes

I can see the way
the clouds move in your pictures,
artistic eye snapped still.

I see the light upon the ocean
highlighting facets, your sunset
illuminating the clouds.

You have stood looking out
at this print as it moved,
orchestrating the timing.

With a click you bring me there
long after the sun has set,
we sit watching the clouds move.

Paganus* Nocturnality

We were heathen children
dancing under the Ursa Major sky
salted with stars and flecked with fireflies.

Feet bare except the dust coating
as we left prints in the dirt road
disappearing where it met the asphalt.

Boys in jean cut-offs
white-blue strings frayed and knotted
hang down like denim tears.

Tight-fisted maypops closed
silent like the houses set back
off the street watch in disapproval.

We run wild in the night
laughing and screaming,
with luminescent firefly smears.


* Paganus, meaning "country dweller, rustic"

But Where Do They Hide the Ambitious Ones?

I can't sleep until you tell me it's OK to breathe, and I'll move through this moment like a blade put to the purpose when I feel I'm all on my own.

Life's a bitch backing out on me.

sui caedere

At ten she hated
herself to the point she planned her death -
a bubble in a syringe
straight into her bloodstream.

At thirteen she was raped
not violently but she still protested
losing her virginity to her cousin
death became a luxury

At sixteen she couldn’t see
past the pain, the lack of friends,
the invisibility emanating off her skin,
the though of death a solace

At twenty-one she lost
her fiancé and unborn child
in a car accident in which she was driving
even death did not want her

At twenty-seven she cried
herself to sleep every night alone
despite the fact she was married
death renewed its wooing

At thirty she learned
the way blood congeals and curls
to darkened cracks on the floor
death made a formal introduction.

But Do We Have the Same Diseases?

I'm in love with a ghost.

And I could drink myself blind just to see if it felt any different when we never touch. It's never quite so simple as simple words could say. It's never been complicated. Our lives are those of flies circling the flame. Moths desperately seeking landing zones at the end of a long frozen night. My greater purpose is the realization that I am no angel. I'm tired. I need something else.

I stand at the edge of the shore, peering through the stars, waiting for the change. Please, come take me away.

In Balance and Harmony with Nature

I cut the years off my face,
a straight razor to my skin
removing layer after layer
til I can see myself looking back.

I imagine my eyes fall out
with a plop into the sink,
looking back up at my barren face,
searching for imperfections.

What is revealed under
the layers that people see?
Am I better off without the
protection of all that epidermis?

Sideline Experiments, Distractions

He thinks he's picking me apart
And having the last laugh
Little does he know I'm already inside
Just waiting for the catastrophe
It's coming hard like another explosion
Or else he's falling in around himself
Either way, I'm the cause of this disaster
And so pleased to be the end of something beautiful
Remember me sweetly; and I'll forget you forever

Conversations with a Dead Man

He said -
Dying was like a mouthful of bitter coco powder,
with no water when you really wanted Belgium chocolate.
You choke on the last escaping breath,
as if your diaphram can pull it back in.
Then your eyes come unglued, drifting
out of the sockets, looking down at yourself.
You can see all your lines, scars, tells -
looking up at you as you look at them.

He said -
Watching me was the most fun he's had
since he's been dead.
My lines, scars, tells are blinded -
as I am to them.
There are no rejecting echoes
or criticisms seeping from my skin.

He said -
He would be content to stay with me.
I am a good listener.
When I sleep, with my eyes closed,
I look peaceful,
like he once imagined dying.

Arranged

Your hand in mine, We rewrote our lives,
Nothing turned out the same in the end.

As the ink flowed, we grew together,
one root, one vine, two flowers.

Now I have been plucked
to sit upon the table - alone.

All I can remember is the sun,
the rain and always looking at you.

Creating Character

I write, its what I do,
and you become words
on the page -
another fiction
of paper thin memories
waiting to be torn -
into pieces.
Not worth it, the effort
to rip apart.
Faded, yellowed,
crusted, dried tear
on the page.

Axiology

I stood there listening
as you spouted the
insecurities I confided in you,
and when you were done --
I realized they revealed
more about you
than they ever did about me.

Unwavering your words
made no difference
except one tiny twinge of sadness
that I felt for you.

I never misrepresented myself
and I won’t apologize for who I am
as always I still have myself
and that is worth something.

Confidence Rekindled

I close my eyes and wish I were anywhere else,
but I am still here, still waiting endlessly -
my hair is a little longer and my eyes black,
and yet - I look like someone else looking back at me,
my heart beats a little truer, whispering those dreams,
in which you hold me all night, in which you never give me up,
and I smile, as if the sun has just broken over the ridge,
rays scatter from my face, from my own light,
for I have remembered how to shine,
though I still linger in the shadows, though I am still at home
in the night, and I bid my time. One day, my love will freely flow,
and I will not be able to hide any longer.

Spiel Mit Mir

The procession ushers itself forth. Existentialism on Prom...no, whatever night. I could live, if only through you.

The spotlight looms ominously nearby. It pauses and collects itself. Could it come this way and would I want it to? I pull the curtains close around me, and only my face shows to the crowded audience. They stare as if examining a bizarre zoo creature.

I hope.you like.my work.
Because I don't know how else to tell you who I am.
I take a bow and expect the silence, but I hope for an applause. Just, please, pick up the phone and let your voice stick inside my ear.

It's all so much more important to me than even I'd like to believe.
"I really hope you like my work."

Good Morning... ;)

Childish Affairs

The undercurrent drones
And I see the smile you'd like me to believe
But the flame in your eye is what piques my interest
So, I wait awhile for your composure to break
So you can regain it again
And now you can watch me smile
Because, sweetie, I already know..

Long Strolls Through Open Oil Fields

Drowning out the sound of passing pedestrians
Coasting by gas stations and out of luck
Weathering the storm on the front porch with an old acoustic Gibson
Grandfather's best
People in fury trying to figure out where they're going
Flipping me off, passing on the interstate
Me pointing to gas price signs and easing off the accelerator
Everything in life seems to slow down
And we're caged in this house with no hope of ever getting out
Quick drives to the library become protracted walks
Meet a person along the way and let time transpire into moonlight
Appreciate this moment to be here and alive
And enjoy the finer things in life
I like to stray to on those long nights spent in my room
Take a slow cigarette and pass
Just fall back on my pillow and relax, drift to sleep
Promise me you'll still be here this time...

The Manipulator Meets a Jester

Just a little more than angry. Sending signals. Spinning silk deception over miles and miles of an invisible inforway. With the Keys to this heat underfoot and hurricanes swirling in from the Far East, an advantage. Dual prepositions juxtaposed and the meaning lost in a string of angsty poetry and cryptic lines about a subtle, aching suffering. Torn across the skin and leaving signs, directions to follow across the chest. A seat in a panhandle. Iron and smooth. Brittle and hard. Breaking. How do things get so crazy and just seem to crumble into forgotten pieces? Is this how you want? Is this the only way we've left to desire? There's a face in the background, a whisper stitching through the backdrop.

Pushing. I knew a liar once.

I saw you there.

I'll bet he still knows how to cry. Just ask him. Think he's faking again? I'll bet he doesn't know. I'll bet there's a tunnel. Journey to the center of nothing. Keep waiting for the light. Close your eyes and keep waiting. You can't be disappointed if you're only stricken blind. Keep hoping. Keep writing breathing. Lying. To yourself.

Just stop.

Archangel (Not the Devil)

And ghosts from the past
Just keep coming back
With clenched fingers wrapped tight
Sucking me dry
Beckoning me right in with arms inviting
Pray
The devil coming round for charity
God begging on the corner again
Angels and demons lost in my eyes
We're all just people
More parts of the choir
Preaching right back to the same
With pointed fingers and accusations
Working up a sweat, lashing in
All against ourselves
In the pulpit crying
The congregation on its knees
Passing around concussions
With peyote vipers
Soma spilling over
We're all just foaming at the will
Passing out
This eats me alive and empty to the quick

One-Winged Angels

It becomes so hard to fly sometimes
Keep getting set off track
By the simplest of breezes
And just like so many wilted flower arrangements
I feel what my extremities are lacking
Like a nail straight through my soul
What my heart is ceasing to provide any longer
Life

"Never changed a damn thing."

The Beloved

"I dreamed that the world was crumbling down. We sat on my back porch and watched it."

We picked out our convoluted lives
Stacked them high with all intentions
Best or otherwise
I held your hands in mine
Led you and yours softly down the bank
And one by one ushered you into the rushing current
I watched your faces swell and burst
With excitement, exultation, ruin
And I went about my way
I led others, I followed so long as I had to
And when I needed you
I called you each by name and waited
I took your frigid hands and heaved
But your bloated corpses only floated silently downstream
It seems the one whom God helps, I cannot save
But the ones God forsakes, I take in rapturously
You rush to the waters so boldly
I haste to repeat
And we feel so passionately close
As I slide your hands down my wet skin
And slip away to leave you to the river

"Oh how I want you to know me."

Even the Most Uninspiring Good News Monday

It's only a matter of time
A day of reckonings
I keep up with only one
A tribute to forgotten friends
Lost acquaintances
Chardonnay and celebration
It's only a matter of crying
Nothing new under the sun
Save for nightfall and terrors
Slips and retribution
New trends, old fans, single catatonic episodes
Sing me something
Sweet and sultry
Stare me down
Blink once and this is over
Only a matter of time
Until we define what we're trying to find
Lost on highways and higher than our greatest expectations
What is it we're running from?
But is it even anything?

Words, Words, Words

"I swear, I really feel like the devil every time I talk to you."

"Let me read it."

"No. It's not finished yet. You play a really critical role at this point, and I'm afraid that you'll get the wrong impression."

....Or maybe the fear is that you'll get too much of the right impression.

First impressions always seem to kill me. Scribbling poetry on scraps of paper, posting them online, table cloths and napkins, my own bare palm. Most of which, you'll never even see.

For an Angel No More

She was an angel
Maybe not of the highest choir
Or of beauty most supreme
But an angel, nonetheless
Not his, of course
That was all his fault, anyway
Clawing out the last bit of perfection from her face
With an outstretched arm
Just trying to reach her
Moments before the fall
.
.
.
.
.
All she ever wanted was to learn how to fly

Hermes

Kicking cobblestones and throwing lives off the tops of nine-story parking decks
Walking alone down darkened streets desperately seeking the stars in the sky
I know there's a moon up there somewhere, too
I know you're up there
I wish that you could hear me as I whisper through the night
Because right now
No less than a million things I could easily say to you
Roll off my tongue and to the ground
And right now
No less than a million hollows that would like nothing better
Than for me to stop talking to myself
It makes them uncomfortable
To see a stranger in the streets with an idea he can't help expressing
I can finally see the moon now
I hope it's listening intently
So maybe it can bear my message away
.
.
.
.
How I wish that you could hear me

Euthanasia Silhouette

If I could take any three poisons with me to the grave, you would be the first two.

Blood Relatives (Some Call It Family)

We all fell right through this nothingness
After so long
Believing in this nothing
Learned to live by and with this nothingness
And what we've come to depend on
Has all come crashing down
And left exactly what we had to begin with
Only the bright lights burn a little deeper
When your eyes are fully open
And he tells me now's the time to break down
And we finally tell the truth
After all these years
I can hear him sobbing on the other end of the phone
Pretending he has a cold
"Just another sinus infection," he tells me
But I know exactly what he means....
"Rupture the wall around my heart."

Where is Home?

It’s nothing she believes
Funny she still dreams
Every waking moment into being
Amazing how the day just fled
Gathered quickly and disappeared
Took its leave on the next horizon
Nightfall is approaching soon
To brush away the children
And the remnants of foul histories
An inconversant rampart quits its post
Leaves soldiers for the cause exposed
A poignant victory green lingering in the air
There’s little she still dreams
And even less that she believes
On the trip to nowhere home

Burn Away

We could start a fire, love
And leave all this waste behind
Forget what was yesterday
And let the sands of time
From yesteryear be blown away
Into nothingness
And you and I
We'll keep ourselves to the other side
Stowed safely away from the chaos
Where we can watch it all turn to ash
Right before our eyes
And leave all that was worthwhile
To everyone else some time, somewhere
Behind us or far underfoot
We can settle into one another
And replace all that was before
With the perfect blaze I found in your eyes
The one you placed in my heart
For safe keeping
Let's watch the nothing disappear
Let's burn it all away, love

The Obligatory Numbers Game

It’s the same look in your eyes
The same quiver in your voice I’m going on
It’s been there from the start
And I can’t help but feel I’m a predator
But our souls are both empty vessels
And voices offer no objections
Bodies creep like hours
And the ticking clock of our ambition
Counting down the seconds before we tear ourselves apart
Clothing falls in strips and pieces
And lips lock in the words we never want to say
It’s the way we bend for one another
The only way left to communicate
Would you believe me if I said you don’t mean a thing to me?
I know damn well you would; it’s the same excuses every week

As Hell Is Deep

I watch him take my heart in hand
Twist and compress it until finally
He has fashioned a stylus for himself
Now, he etches away fragments of thoughts
Pieces of mysteries which never found their proper context
Which barely made it out of his head
Across my exposed, torn chest
He tattoos me to make me his own
Now I belong to him
And I have no say in the matter
I watch him take that same heart-stylus
And crumble it into dust
All the while chanting
Saying the desert simply isn't large enough without this
All the while chanting
Saying I lacked the constitution to contain the both of us
So, now that my chest is open to the desert he's created
I have an infinite capacity for "us"
He delivers these last lines lines about "us"
As his figure develops into a miniscule pixel on the far horizon
As he becomes the same dust as the now-disintegrated stylus
Free to blow as far from here as the east is from the west
I know now that I'll never see him again

Worlds Apart

I know I'll find you on that opposing shoreline
Somewhere, I know you're there in hiding
And this knowledge makes me; breaks me
Makes me want to tear these mountains asunder
Wake all the gods from their pacific slumber

Take these worlds apart
And then pull these oceans under....

With you....
Somewhere beyond this sea of sandstone
You're swimming in a perfectly pristine pool
Where water rolls like mercury over everything
Covering the beauty; keeping it safe
From everything that falls apart

Because where you are everything falls into place

Everything....
Is what I want from you
It's all I'm asking for
Once I'm through with running
Once I've traversed this wintry desert
And come finally home, I'm knocking on your door

All this time they say I've been running away
But I've known all the while
That through this lonely metropolitan wilderness
I've been sprinting for the other side
Just to touch and see your face

I'll Be the One

You used to be my sun and moon
My prize and star
I don't have those anymore
I've come millions of miles
And braved tempest after raging tempest
All to come out something stronger in the end
To be something better
Something we could both love
I don't have it anymore
And I cannot fathom why
I know, but I do not
I understand, but I lack comprehension
I guess I'm just not constructed this way
Giving up was something I was never very capable of
I guess my father's arrogance
His pride shines through
I'm just like him
I'll never accept defeat
And I'll never quit until every last limb is broken
Until my last breath is taken and expelled
I know I'm going to die fighting
You used to be my sun and moon
I wish that I could have that once more
But I'm giving up on dreaming