Perseus and I

Is it that we are
delivered at birth
to this place
by the hand
of Perseus,
saddled in brilliant
bright light,
destined to be
unique?


Does the universe
mean to celebrate us
year after year
with nature's most
majestic display
of fireworks
we should behold?

So many questions
fly through my mind
when I feel this-
so close to God
and Heaven-
in the darkest light
beneath you.

Let me rub your feet

Soon I will wake
to see the grace of
God beside me
in her purest form.
She will smile,
her words will kiss me,
and her hands might
even bless my soul.
The great crusade
into her pendant complete,
able to finally rest
on the deep blue
within greene,
her heart cries no more
for where she wishes
to be-
and smiles for where
she is.

May we always live
in the beautiful warmth
of our roof-top paradise.

Good Morning My Love

Her hair could bring
the sun to its' knees.
Even the most violent
wind would pause
and ask permission
before passing through.
Still she gave the hands
of an ordinary man
full access beyond
her mortal bounds
for she loved him so,
as he did her.

Lilly and Jesse

There is a crying
loud and continuous
but only tears of joy
in response.

There are beaches,
wonders, flights,
and glass floors
in a notebook.

Breathe...

Can you smell
Lily of the Valley
beneath the ground
dreams run on?

Be strong in the face
of your older self to
defend what you know
will never betray you.

Call your poet
to come rescue you
when you are trapped
in the Heights.

That little crying
at first so distant-
gets closer to my ear
with every sunset.

The flour, the shower, and the sticky stuff

There is a new show
that you won't find
on any network
or satellite.
It is by far
the greatest love story
ever to be written.
If you were lucky enough
to have followed it
you would be sitting
on the edge of your seat,
unable to pull yourself away
for even the shortest time.
The flour creates the mess
that litters the floor-
inciting laughter,
enticing kisses
and non kisses.
The shower rains
down the love
in a passion so hot
it burns the steam.
But the sticky stuff,
left outside until the breaks,
until she says "Ok",
would keep you glued
to the screen,
pulling for us to make it.

My Best Friend

I have always been suspicious

of fruit without seeds,

they seem empty to me-

lacking any backbone

or real substance.

Come to think of it

I never trusted any fruit

of any kind, shape, color-

I trashed them all

before they ripened.

Now I think the fear

for worms, mold, or

anything unforeseen

rotting the sweetness

drove me away.

Then again maybe not.

Maybe I knew all along

that no matter how long

I waited, hoped, worked,

they would always die.

The thing I don't get

is that now there is a bush

full of blueberries

that grows sweeter by

every drop of sun.

How I wish to eat
that fruit every day
until I eat no more.

The Tenth.

I'm not good at math
but I know what 2+1 equals.
I can see the equation
all the multiplication
the variables
the subtractions
and divisions-
no matter which way
you write it
the answer is always 2.

You know that too.
You can see it
just as easily as I can
from where you are.
In fact it was you all along
who led me to believe
in things not always being
as they appear to be.

That bees can kiss you,
blueberries must breathe,
drying roses wilt hearts,
of going beyond the roof,
how soft the bull can be,
I have you to thank
for these wonderful tips
on walking in a forest.

You on a call?

I know the perfect blue
couch to lay you on
when you are sick.
The arms are not huge
but they hold you tight
and keep you warm.

I can see you smile
wrapped in the softness
two sticks created.
Everything you need
is there beneath you
without expiration.

Maybe we both need
more time off
on the edge of the bed.
We can calm each other
till we're breathless
with numb lips.

Show me black things
that drive me wild
like a river flooded.
Let the current
push beyond doubt
to a farm of hope.

We'll reap a harvest
so rich and full
it spills over.
Just ride with me
on the dream
of the blue couch.

When the tears are all wiped from my face.

Our hearts are just
a little left of center
for reasons unknown.
Maybe it is because
the hands of another
pull the strings softly
to bring us closer.

To some who will tell
you His Love is greatest
and impossible to duplicate,
that hand belongs to God.
When I heard this today
I could not help but laugh
for the less fortunate
and their loneliness.

I was then offered this love,
this salvation into bliss,
for the measly price
of humility over style,
and an eternity of servitude.
I refused such heresy-
insisting that I could only
kneel before the one
and no other.

Her will is my own.
One breath from her chest-
one touch of her mouth-
no amount of love
from any God or Spirit
for a thousand eternities
could come so close.

So though you may try
to convince me otherwise,
my devotion is unwavering,
and her love will forever be
the reason why my heart
is a little left of center.

The real blueberries

I've had my first
taste of your mouth-
sip of your drink-
and from one drop
I became an addict.

My whole world
spins faster
without your arms
to steady me.

Teach me to speak
so we're free to talk.
Show me how to love
from your inside to mine.

I'll write the words
to our fairytale
while you frame it
to show the small
when we've grayed.

A rose-petal-path to Central Park

Sometimes I forget
my nurse has two jobs.
She brings me vitamins,
frozen passion fruit,
creamy sweets,
and beautiful music,
making this boy
the luckiest patient.
That smile is such
great heart medicine
that I beg her to stay
every time she says goodnight.
In that moment
when her head falls a bit
I remember her other clock,
smile, smell her on my face,
and close the window
until she returns in her darkness
to hug me again.

The best cheese

Today I took a piece of silver
which then took me beyond my wildest-
beside the most beautiful creature-
half bull, half monkey.
We played and stared at each other
until I awoke from the dream alone
to find myself licking sorbet.
This monkey-business was exactly
what I have always needed-
soft, rough,
weak, tough,
breath-taking.
But it wasn't enough because
I don't speak enough "Bunkey"
to express myself in that tongue.
At least not yet.
So I kiss instead, hoping
my princess will feel it from
her tower that keeps her chained
until we speak together without fear
of being caught frolicking in a Concorde.

This message...

I may be on vacation
but I have so much work to do
over the next few days
that I can't think of sleep.
Will I find time to pass
beside a rolling stream
at the base of two great peaks
while I say goodbye
to a life I hardly know?
I will use every ounce
of strength to climb over
and steal away a kiss
of golden sun that is setting
before it can even rise
to meet the end of my trip.
And when the darkness falls
on that final day of return
I will find that ray of light
behind my tightly drawn eyes,
shining brighter than ever
with a torturous smile.

...still I will try to sleep.

A summer's snowstorm

Things got messy that night-
the sticky stuff dried hard
and the room went blue.
I was still stuck on your breath
when I heard you whisper
this has nothing to do
with what happened before.

Do not be afraid to lose
what is not for anyone
to take away from you.
Even when strong winds
threaten to pull you away
you can cling to the chimney
until calmer times return.

You're so alive and everywhere,
never far from my side-
and even when you must go
I know you never leave me.

Not quite yet

Just when you're convinced it's impossible to see the
upside of a penny you found walking because your
sadness has grabbed hold like a vice and refused
to let go for even a second-something inside of
you breaks into smile, suggesting that perhaps
nothing is impossible in this life
anymore...

I wonder the same thing.

Lets pretend that this page is more like
our private room where we're in the most
vulnerable state we can be in private--while
each of us bares our nakedness to the other.

Yes, that is what we should do now,
only first we should read again this letter's
upside of what I'm saying to you...

Notes from the fridge

Discover romance
between each language-
write,
explore,
inspire.
Speak no fiction,
question wisdom
from a villain.
Whisper of desire.
Excite people.
Turn fear
into beautiful mystery
that cracks every new day
in a strange, happy world.

I won't go far

In the silence you left me in that day
was a song you said would put some
words back in your mouth.
Oddly enough I found the comfort
I needed at that moment
from all your old letters you wrote.
Each one was so beautifully written
and meaningful on its own-
but when I read them together
they created something much more-
a story I had never noticed before
of a girl who met a boy with a note,
circled yes and filled his heart pink-
painting a smile on his face
brighter than words ever could.

Still waiting for the doctor

Could I really expect to sleep
without seeing you say goodnight?
Totally alone here in my cave
missing my favorite window,
where even my thoughts ignore me
and speak only to each other.
Your smile haunts the darkness
I'm left completely naked in.
Touch the pillow with a hand
pretend it's the face so calm-
so happy to finally be home,
move two fingers over ridges
that would otherwise be lips
while my own whisper things.
Is it that unreal, really,
this secret recipe we hide from most-
or is it rising in a kitchen
beaten by a flour-fight
and settled in another room
two doors down from forever...

To those who wait

Nearly slept beside you tonight
I wanted to-
You have no idea how bad
I wanted to-
just knew it wasn't time.

Wanted so badly to ask to
please be careful with my pen,
not regret my glass of red wine
or it's contents I pour for you,
to cling to your cross
when your way seems unlikely-
I just couldn't find the keys
to unlock my courage.

So I ask you now
for once chance
to write for you forever
beyond heaven and hell
and every flower between.

So how about you?

The minute she stopped fighting-
everything changed.
It could almost be said that
we fell in love that day.
Only by actually reaching inside
and massaging my heart
with her angelic hands
could she ever touch me
more deeply.
I have never followed the lord
and though I may not still
I will forever thank God
for that one percent.

No older than 13

It's been said
better to have loved
and lost
than never to have
loved at all,
but what is it
to have loved
without the opportunity?
To not wipe away tears,
beg forgiveness,
lay beside such beauty
you smile through sleep,
all while knowing
only two ticking hands
keep you away
from true romance.

Want to touch your arm
yell tag you're it
and run away,
kiss you-
over and over-
while I rinse the shampoo
and the water runs
down your face,
tell you everything
I'm so scared to.

Think it is better-
blueberry season
is coming soon
with the pollen,
and you can never
like blueberries
too much.

Flying

I have no fear
for potential words,
what might come,
what might not,
of freaking out.
You hold me
so safely
I can't worry
I'll be dropped.
Not sure when
I fell
or how far,
but I'm certain
of the why
and how long
I intend to
remain there.

Hope I'm not waking you up

This is when it gets hard
when the lion is stung
one too many times
from playing with bees.
The pain is so pleasureful
he can't resist another kiss
and another
until the eight or nine
extend beyond the fear of ten.

Tell me you will see me...
I will
I have to.
Always call me all those
sweet things in one
that sound so perfectly
terrifyingly beautiful-
and that tell me what
you refuse to say.

Kiss me goodnight
and sting me again
one more time.

Twice nice

We were so different
you and I
and I remember
wishing you the worst-
it devastates me now
to think of.

So funny how life
can rebound
and then fall
leaving much worse-
crushing everyone
who loves you.

I'm still angry inside.
I hate that you
took so long
to come around
to seem human
even lovable.

It's not your lack
of tears that hurts
it's the realness of hers-
unimaginable for me
who hides from such
emotional addiction
for this very thing.

I will try to learn
whatever I can
from this,
you,
to smile when
I think of yours.

On your burgundy pillow

You laugh when I ask you
not to point me to the roof.
It's a place that is hard
for me to comeback from
that keeps me away
from seeing into your heart.

You would tie me to this
kitchen chair if you could
but I already am bound
by each fingertip-
blue or not.

And as much as I know
you hate it
I can't apologize
because I find no fault
in wanting to see you
when I can't.

I know you understand.
Between all the laughing
the water is calmer
when you smile back
while I peak in
to catch a glimpse.

I feel you doubt less,
still struggling a bit,
but wanting more
to believe this blueberry
is not rotten as the others
you have tasted before.

Maybe the next time
I ask you that question
you will not say nie,
nor yes,
not even maybe,
you'll just show me...

Hold it

There's a window for you
beside my bed
where you can catch
birds all day
searching for a moment
to keep forever.
There's a window for me
on the other side
to catch you
searching for forever.

Hold it right there-
hate is a very bad word
for that voice
when we were so
close to the birds
and the bees.

Wish you would stay
tell me you're going
to bed
but not going away
and closing my window
beside you.

Swings and things

I remember when playtime
booked me too solid
to need vacation.
Times were less timely,
even the lions
played with mittens.

They say we grow wise
yet we pine for our dolls
and first kisses in swings
while searching for a knife
to return our stolen
brown-bag-lunch smiles.

Perhaps youth is a lie
that fools us into hope
that we are all equal
and that all is fair
in milk and cookies.

Do you even know me?
Am I nothing more
than your receptacle
to beat on-
blow up inside-
disappoint (again).

I barely know myself
anymore...

If I close my eyes I won't see

It amazes me how the farmer
can see the beauty in the bull
in an open golden field
free, strong, powerful,
boasting to others its' magnificence
as it's held up to behold.

How this same farmer-
in all of his wisdom-
could lure the bull from grace,
into the seclusion of a pen,
behind iron bars,
ring through the nose,
horns knocked off,
trapped for breeding,
a memory of the champion.

You don't get more naked
than that broken creature.

Until a young boy's innocence
sees the beauty that still exists
in the deepest blue windows.
His whispers birth new strength
and reserge the hope
for the bull to break free
and find the warmth of the sun
in new vast expanses.

Time passes but the boy remains
shirtless and unwilling to go
beyond the half hour.
He waits for them to run
to a place too warm for white jackets,
and too beautiful for farmers.

Walking in the rain (again)

I finally met you
walking in the rain
between Mack
and Geneva.
You were so cold
but asked me to
show you the river
to fly you away.

What could I do?
I wanted to
but I knew you
would leave again
once you got warm
and dry.

Stay.
Let me shower
with you
up against the wall
sliding down.

I'm not ready
for you to go
not yet.
Ask me tomorrow
and stay.

Please stay.

So glad you passed your test

I can still hear the sound of your voice
in my ear over the snapping of the fire
while stretched out on the couch reading.
You left almost as quickly and effortlessly
as you had come that I barely had time
to notice that winter was leaving as well.

No rush

Wish I was with you that day
in the sunflowers
when you blew the kiss-
I would have leapt to catch
even a part of it
to keep the softness from wilting
with the yellow petals.

Can you stay there for ten minutes
with me
and not feel rushed
or that your lacking anything
so we can make this time
ours?

Can I make your smile my own
or at the leastbe the reason for it
to easy the uneasy feeling
of adoring the one
that wasn't mine
by substituting?

Wonder if we will fade
like those flowers did
that fall
and become a kiss we blew
that we could never catch
or replant.

Me too

Most of the time
I find true stories
to be untrue.
E! true hollywood
makes real life
seem lifeless.

My own truth is
sometimes fabricated
by the cruel
who would seek
to hurt unprevoked.

Then there is you-
soft
sweet
smiling
circling yes
for the bully.

What else will
you do for effect?
Is there a way
for me to see
behind your mirrors
without fear?

Feelin shitty-
think a warm bed
would substitute
for the sand
for now.
And a cheesy movie.
That sounds nice
to me too.

Charity Work

Last night I saw
three girls and their buddy
talking about fashion
and the price they paid
for stealing moments
of fame and fortune.
Think they're still paying.

Think I'm still paying too.
Seems like every check
is spent before the ink dries.
Probably would be better off
if I had an accountant
instead of a nurse,
but my heart needs monitoring
more than my wallet.

So while it may be true
that I've seen
certain people at their worst-
your monitor shows
me as my most naked self
without so much as a towel
in this winter air.

La fille danse
Quand elle joue avec moi
Et je pense...je pense.

"Thank You" James

Got an estimate
from collision repairs
to repair my collision-
gonna cost me
more than two cards
carry at a time.
Need a complete overhaul.
Made peace with it-
with Mom too,
but not blossom.
Still missing the lake-
can't see it
through the wing
even with a window seat.
The wave broke-
rolled back to sea-
the collision
casted it away.

The defining act

I bought you
a little cake
it's so sweet
you smile.

Hours and thousands
away from rest
awake to sleep
you turn.

Deep snow drifts
drifting into me
so deeply shallow
I digress.

I guess.

Do you miss
the cold outside
now that the thermometer
crashed inside you?

Your act sent
something through me
I'm unable to define.

Wish I had
a little cake
to nibble.

A Lake view

Where has the warm breeze
that ran through my hair
blown away to?
The ice that's taken
its' place is cold
and unforgiving.
Used to be candles burning
brightly through the darkness
day in and day out.
I could wake up and go home
out of the thundering rain
to a kind shelter.
The leaves have fallen now
as the lights flicker out
leaving me alone.
Now I'm smoking in solitude
sans red hot
always in a 15 mph zone.
When did you cut your hair?

Make it easy

For one night we were free
as thieves with vault keys
roaming through tracks unabaded
by watchfully telling eyes.
To this day I can still feel
your lips touch mine fast
as I asked you not to go.
Call again to let them know
you won't be home-
make it a year of dancing
in a stary room of wine stained
walls that will keep us safe.
I walk behind you now
constantly knifed by what I
have been discarded for
when there was a moment
that we rode tandom-
that we were free.
Is it that you're more
beautiful as I remember?
Could I be putting you in
a place you don't deserve
because I can't win?
Every line proves to be more
meaningful when I'm focused
on being declared your heart's
blood pumping hero.
Nothing I say or do changes
your decision to remain
close enough to keep your place
and too far to share soup.

Small Street

Go on
do it
tell me to go
and fade into
a one hit wonder.
The lint trap excused
you from responsibility
for far too long
now you're left dangling
from a line in rain.
Wine and cheese compliment-
but all cheeses mold
and wines become vinegar.
So, then, show integrity-
like me-
make the fault mine,
guilt is falling today,
and buyers are
scarce anyhow.

I put my bed together

The Hotel Lights in between
East Mountain South
and Mink Deville
is a relief on my
weary eyes.
I'm tired
but not lacking sleep
of any kind.
I'm just
tired of it all.

Perhaps a bit pissed
about the coverage
at my inauguration-
think I deserved
more than I got
out of this hibernation.
Sucks to be sucked
dry of life
then cast as litter.

Hard to be upset
though
I want to be
near
forgotten
adored
wasted
loved
abused

alive.

Instead
you read
what you want
not what I write-
levitate in
your own steam
of golden toast-
kiss your own
fake life
you fake
to make real.
Perfect.

No room to
see me today
when the iron's hot.
Tomorrow's forecast
is dreary too.
Hope you hear me
when I scream
I hate you
for eating
all the berries
when I trusted
you would keep them
safe.

ps I love you

From this time to now

This time you are the
vibration in my pants
that quickens me.
The moment of elation
that could only come
from bending rain
arrives instead as
a pigeon's letter
while I struggle to
comprehend the effect.



This time you are-
but next time?
And after that?
What about the
many storms and quakes
that fall and go-
leaving me destitute?


This time you were
my shelter from harm
that cooled the burn
so torturously hot.



That was beautiful
wasn't it...
seems like so
long ago when I began
this climb I would choose
to press pause mid leap
and remain suspended.

You were there
weren't you
watching from afar
while I danced for you
like a jester.
Thought you were smiling
guess you were laughing
shouldn't have gone
on stage that night.

Cheers
darlin.

Passed me by

I remember waiting for so long
my hands turned numb and cold
from red ice unseen by your message
that you had come to my exit
and passed me by

that it was sent so effortlessly
could only have meant that
you were planning to send it
in the place of your beautiful smile
at the rooster

you seemed so different
and so did I
but I most certainly am different
and you clearly have no plans
to warm my hands.