Poetry

Works of verse

Ponder Our Path

I can see your face

caught between

youth and maturity.

You wear a half-smile,

blue eyes that sparkle,

clear skin, and wit.

Your cheekbones are sculpted

and your thoughts

are three-quarters full

with yourself and who you are

destined to be

be

become

and you tell me

that it’s me whom you love

and I look down

innocently

and ask shyly, me?

me

melting into your eyes

I wonder aloud

how could I ever be so lucky

You gleefully pull

me into your arms

and say that I am

so lovely and sweet.

In our youth

we know the truth

that together

we will always be happy

but you

and

I

we’ve come

to that place where age

is our destiny

and eventually

we’ll be just like my parents

too busy to love

too tired to remember why

they’re together

and too stuck

to change their ways

You say

that could never happen

to us

that our love will last

and I laugh and agree

but secretly I can feel

the wheels turning

and another day goes by

and we continue to kiss

neverendingly working

toward our preplanned destiny

maybe if we go into showbiz

or the music industry

and stay true to our inner child

we’ll never outlive life

more likely we’ll become jaded

with one of the wonders

of the world

and forget how

to smile at each other

until

we’re no longer together

But for now I can

see you and at this moment

you’re more perfect

and you hold me close to your heart

while we wish on the stars

that still amaze our eyes

and we don’t have to try too hard

to be happy

we just are

we just are

Spite

bleed from the hole in the

heart,

a mortal wound,

as the bullet lies satisfied,

being shot from your mouth,

my faith dies.

Routine

I woke this morning with

an odd feeling,

I believe

it was passion

for a man

who doesn’t exist. Maybe

that’s the problem

you do

but without the heat anymore—

sex has become

a chore, like taking out garbage

messy and necessary

because if it wasn’t done, then

something would be wrong.

And of course

we can’t have that.

Freedom

If truth is what you truly seek,

Truth is what you’ll find.

Along the way you will grow weak,

In body and in mind.

 

You think that truth is all you need

To find the hope you dream of,

But hope is just a tiny seed

From that which you have need of.

 

Truth I’ve found, in hope I grow,

And I wish to let you know:

What you seek will set you free—

Break through deceitful reverie.

Six Months Later

Six months later

and rain

is passing through the waking streets,

drumming

the pavement,

flushing the heat.

Down on San Pedro

that old man with the black eyes

stopped singing some time last month.

I went down to listen for him,

searched

through the blue shadows of late winter

and found nothing

save the distant beat of memory.

A Taste

Hey you over there

You know you’re wanted

Your tan skin seems to shine with delight,

and your blue eyes are solid.

I’m sitting over here,

smoking my stogie

And your eyes are set on me

could it be you think I’m pretty?

Well I’m not talking love

That would take a while

I just think you’re cool

and I dig your style

A kiss from your soft lips

Could make my heart race

And in this suburban

life even I

could use a taste

of something different,

tan dark and cute

hey you over there

I got my eyes on you

Blue

Rolling over,

eyelids flutter and open

to drink in the world

at that peculiar time in the morning

when everything is blue.

A peaceful shade

that coats the walls

and fills my mind

with whispers;

soft, but distinct.

Anthropology

he said

“Well, you never know, it might have been someone else’s whole world.”

 

when I said

“I don’t think it was anything important.”

Great Things Greater

How I do love you in the morning, friend!

To think that as my tender night dreams break,

Gold-flecked daydreams follow in their wake

Guided and strengthened by the Great Master’s hand,

Love’s sweet waves upon weathered sand

 

Foam-flecked tongues flicking and licking, consuming all

Under the Great Artist’s direction, reshaping and leaving,

Love’s paradox, rapturous and grieving,

Tearing down self, building selflessness tall

Making the great things greater and the little things small

 

How I ache for these waves, my heart crying out for

Less of the lonely days, when time seems to spend

Forever till morning, till morning my friend,

When I’ll be wanting you less and loving you more

And so, Love, sweep on… and consume this dry shore

Intangible

In my mind I see him enter

a dark computer lab.

He types my name, and I wonder

whether he’s thinking about how he used to love me.

His message reaches my computer in the morning,

as intangible there as it ever was,

intangible like an emotion.

Reaching out to touch it, I feel only the static

of the computer screen leap out to meet my fingertips.