Divorce, Single Parenting, Dating, Sex, & Self-Recovery


this is not about her

OFF-purple[from a second wave – poetry]

in the brilliant purple top
her eyes are tired but happy
dreamy almost, as she contemplates
her coffee
her boyfriend
not me
noise canceling headphones
are piping in songs of loneliness
i’m not here for her
nor she for me
but there she is
with him between us
and a longing of memories
of a girl
once mine
with eyes that watered
with joy more than sadness
but that’s long ago
i’m not interested in that
repeating old poisons
and women who can’t
don’t know how
or won’t
dive down deep
to find the heart
something about her
the woman in purple
this morning
trips me up
gives me pause and flutter
even as her man is blocking my view
because it’s not about them at all
or the woman from long ago
it’s about me
this bottomless cup of coffee
and emptiness on a winter morning


she overtakes me


[from a second wave – poetry]

i saw the girl smile
and i can’t think of anything
to make it go away
so i try
for a word
or two
to loosen her grip
and imagine
we are swimming
off the coast of spain
without wifi
or proper beds
we’ve got pineapples
and guitars
and all the sunshine we can take
it’s in this moment
that I know
not to settle
for anything
than full-on
and a smile
that simmers my mind
any and every time


image: beautiful women, ray lopez, creative common usage

she is late, or missing, or lost


[from a second wave – poetry]

it is not the kiss i miss
nor the hand in pocket
heart-shaped mind bending love
it’s all of it
that’s missing
the bed of great size
still made up on one side
the coffee for one
and reading aloud to myself alone

she’s taking her own sweet time getting here
perhaps my notes are not making it through
or maybe i’m not ready yet
for the explosions in the sky
to rip smack the smile off my face
and leave me breathlessly chasing
every second together
and aching with anticipation
any time we’re apart

i’ve known love
felt the deepest ocean of loss
at just saying good-bye
as we leave for work
i want you to be my
be my

something’s broken this time
as the poetic and the authentic
are vastly distant realities
and this hole in my heart
is also a joy
a love that i long to give again
more than words
and love letters
more than aspirational longing

a love poem without a receiver
is an arrow shot into the night sky
hoping to bring down a star
exclaiming to god and the whispering trees
how love is good
and how i am ready
and she is late
or missing
or lost

this night she is not reading love poems
she shines and sparkles with friends
while my missiles land around her
without voice or sound






and sharpening

each vowel

for impact

i let go yet another


image: new years 007, timber tank, creative commons usage

imaginary you

off-suenodeluz[from a second wave – poetry]

word word word and more words
ricochet around my mind
until sleep becomes an aspiration
of course it is you i reach for
with line and letter
of multiplying
and hopeful promise
of imaginary you


image: sueño de luz, jesus solana, creative commons usage

before the transformation


[from a second wave – poetry]

and in the rush the throng the bustle
i love you more than ever
where ever you may be
in this blackest of all black fridays
so far from me at this moment
yet so close in flame and spirit
i am prepping myself for your arrival
with strengthening exercises and lip balm
making playlists for lovemaking
and perfecting breakfast routines
it’s no wonder, no mystery, why you’re hiding
the ache inside each of us
has not synchronized
the destabilization of our old lives
is still in progress
time before
and time after
your arrival


in the flames of future lovers

OFF-girlonfire[from a second wave – poetry]

i want a dangerous woman
attitude to spare
swagger to match mine


is that part of the problem
am i addicted to adrenal acceleration
are the dangerous curves i wish for
part of my crash and burn routine


something sedate
less driven
less ferarri


in the moments we do have left
i want to spark and burn
bonfires to old vanities
offerings to gods lesser known
pagan and sweaty





image: g-golden girl, kamillia, oliveira, creative common usage

i can see

[from a second wave – poetry]

her lips are moving
across the expanse of chaotic shoppers
i don’t need to read her lips
or attempt to translate the language
into something meaningful
her smile is all i need to…
… well, i can not hear
or feel anything
but i notice the rise and fall of her chest
as she waits in the checkout line
sharing smiles all around
this is the moment
this is the thing
the smile
any smile
given with such joy
like a bright light
in a well-lit place
a dreamer adrift in a sea of bath salts
kale and exotic chocolates
that we’ll never enjoy


image: random wfm, the author, cc 2014


endless flight


[from a second wave – poetry]

word word word after word
pointed in your direction
aiming for connection
in search of
the yes
in answer
a glowing
inner smile
the secret one
left out only for me

if a love poem is set loose
and never received
it travels endlessly

without you
there is no towards
no object of affection
no snuggle or nudge
only the endless whisper
of words
revved up for someone
broadcast into the darkness
and never heard from again



a love poem
errant and true
yet missed


image: arrows, robert s. donovan, creative commons usage

how do we lose touch

OFF-random-winter-wfm[from a second wave – poetry]

in the boots and scarves of other women
i begin to feel hopeful and lost at the same time
the distance between me and another human
sometimes appears unmanageable
and she too perhaps his feeling the call of fires
and the smell of winter arriving
and warm beds that should be shared
but are not
so i wander organic food stores
smiling and seeking
or today, giving it a rest
and still she is everywhere around me
and i hold onto the hope
the promise in a love poem
of a night
a morning
a breakfast together afterwards


a momentary venus


[from a second wave – poetry]

and her smile was beautiful as she waited in the restaurant
i was happy to see her, she wasn’t waiting for me
and in my release, my letting go of the pursuit in general
i could see her for herself and not a target
young, pretty, eager, poised on the edge of the bench
i would like to have someone waiting with such joy
but it is the season of solitude and restructuring dreams
i heard her laugh, the most happy laugh in the place
from across the room i took note of her still
just appreciating her joy, her radiant eyes
and the way she stay focused on her friend
who had arrived moments after me
a woman, another young woman, another joyous greeting
i too was happy and attentive
and a little transfixed
but it was a longing for something else
some other smile and joy of my own
and my migas arrived and the water was tasteless
but i didn’t need any more coffee on this cold morning
i needed an inspiration
a touch


love and what was missing


[from a second wave – poetry]

i found that note again
the one where i proposed loving
rather than running
the one where i brought
hopefulness and ideas and romance
where was your note
back then, or ever, really
where was your inspiration
as things trended hard
where did you go
i’m thinking this a long time later
as a new winter arrives
and i’m still seeking
someone i love even half as much
but of course that will never do
i had it all
and even as i strived
in the final minutes
to keep our family together
you had already left the building
i just didn’t know yet
but finding this note
reminds me
of how you missed so much
of the love i was offering
the ideas, inspirations
dreams and actions and hopes
i’m not sure
how you didn’t have any to share
or if i was expected to provide
all of the connective tissue
because when the light flickered
you were gone
even as i failed
to identify what was missing


almost probably dreaming you

OFF-mel-view[from a second wave – poetry]

and there you were
plain as day
standing before me
dripping wet with the ocean
sparkles behind through the window
i could taste the salt
hear the gulls and surf
and nearly
almost probably


image: tease from a friend, anonymous

sounding in the cold

OFF-watergirl[from a second wave – poetry]

how could you not hear my call
and the passion i pour out nightly
how long will it take for you to arrive
the winter has come again
snows are not far behind
and i dread the bone dead cold
the ache i know will come
in the night, without you


image: caitlin in the mushroom, dave gingrich, creative commons usage

here we are

OFF-couple[from a second wave – poetry]

many styles of women
so many shapes and smiles
sitting, chatting, texting nearby
with or without tech or partner
they are swarming around me
well, around the coffee, actually
but they are close
leaving trails of joy
with hand gestures
meant for others, perhaps
yet here we are
so close
engaging in momentary eye lock
and gone
and here comes another
and i am happy
joyous and fulfilled


image: couple holding hands while one naps, the author, cc 2014

fall window

off-fall-window[from a second wave – poetry]

out the window all i can see
is the places where you are missing
the changing of the weather
and reaching for warmth in the cold night
the early darkness
descending on my days of sunshine
i hope the world is happy where you are
and that you don’t feel the sting
of this fall evening
the smell of smoke fires
and the light
that no longer finds your eyes


maybe tomorrow

off-tennis-skirt[from a second wave – poetry]

for a minute
it felt like
everything might
into place
for me
she was willing
we had a time
fresh cans of tennis balls
and as the hour
neared the storm clouds
blustered my mood
but didn’t dampen
either of our spirits
just the courts
“it’s wet” she texted
i wish she had been
talking about something
i missed the message
i arrived
to puddles
and her smile
“we’ll try again”
i asked
“how about thursday”
and more smiles
as she swished off
on her bike
into the storm
shouted over her
and tennis bag


image: nike tennis skirt, promo shot

forgive me if i go poetic

Screen Shot 2014-11-04 at 5.47.29 AM[from a second wave – poetry]

forgive me if i go poetic
around you
it is not that i’m losing my words
but that they are coming too fast
to keep track
kind of like speaking in tongues
some cosmic connection
fires up in my brain
like an emotional meteor shower
with words and images
coming to fast
to form coherent sentences
would be to miss more than i can bear
i could tighten the grip
come back to earth
and say something ordinary
but nothing in this world
has prepared me for this
the moment i let go
and really listened
and accepted
forgive me if i go poetic
it is what i do
when overwhelmed
or delighted


cherish is the word

OFF-professor-plum[from a second wave – poetry]

i cannot diminish your brilliance
as i sweep in underneath for support
and gentle caring
i leave no trace
nothing but air
and a pillowy feeling
in your chest
i swim in this air with you
and adore your moves
even your moments
let me never forsake this beauty
in this moment
you are
may you always feel this way
and me continue


image: professor plum evolved, the author, cc 2014

a step towards you

[from a second wave – poetry]

if we don’t step towards one anotherreaching-OFF
we will never get closer
if the connections are all jammed
with other stuff, obligations, chores
it is hard to find the language
between us
if there is anything
between us

so let me put a foot forward
in your direction
just to say hello
is there a coffee moment
in our futures
that could be fruitful and delicious

i’m going to put a moment
in the asking
and reach out
there are none to have


image: let your reach exceed your grasp, scott swigart, creative commons usage

not this perfect morning

coffee-morning[from a second wave – poetry]

coffee is life accelerated
love is passion multiplied
if i could have you both
in some saturday morning
i would be here
in this heaven
where i am not now
on the tapering end of a coffee buzz


halfway home


[from a second wave – poetry]

word after word word word
letter shapes textures and
sound sound sound
and you here
and you not here
and you
streaming stream of consciousness
of prayer song or song
that sing sings through my veins
at the mind map a have drawn of you
of the yes/no/maybe we are becoming
and the pause
at wait
and release
expectations and exhalations
and meeting you
halfway there
halfway house
half the way home



take action

[from a second wave – poetry]

take actionwfm-takeaction
the yoga girl is leaving the building
all dating sites are down
and i’m sitting here
earbuds and bubbly water
wishin, hopin, thinkin,
i’d make a good snuggle bunny
with shea butter and coconut
and moves that make me blush
recalling how much i’m out of practice

i can still smell her
the last one
i would fall back into her arms
if harms way was not right after
there’s no going home again
once the ship has been burnt
and sailed
i’ve got

as she glides effortlessly by
down and away
with not a nod or side glance
a girl like that
she’s going home to someone
she’s eating organic
she’s doing yoga
is a figment of my peripheral vision
i nearly catch a glance of something possible
and it know it’s my
all this longing
and words
and l e t t e r s

take action
i tell you
this sitting
and it’s not part of the plan
get up
get out
get going


image: take action at wfm, the author, cc 2014

easy surrender

OFF-parisatnight[from a second wave – poetry]

the poem about paris and madrid didn’t come tonight
the music felt right
but the evening just seemed to be about something else
anything but another love poem
or something about desire and longing
good grief
haven’t we hit stride yet
hasn’t someone, anyone, arrived
after all the messages i’ve been leaving behind
i’d put up smoke signals if it wouldn’t get me arrested

any new moment, any new dream
is now sort of boring
i’m tired of love poems and epiphanies
i’ve exhausted my quiver of arrows
i want to lie down now
next to her
have her say nothing
and me


image: paris 240, jeremy thompson, creative commons usage

tiny epiphanies

coffee-love-letters-350[from a second wave – poetry]

i’m certain she smells terrific
as wonderful as she looks
this young exotic and unaware
something from my high school days
i’ve got the scent in my mind
or is that the guy sitting next to me

she’s wonderfully pretty to look at
but the desire is for something else
and still i admire
i poem
i praise

i am looking for my own
a bit more my size and era
it’s wonderful how the heart jumps
at the idea of a woman
and the magic of that attraction
at (nearly) any age

across the room
she is stomping her feet in line
coffee just ahead
before she bolts on
to her day job

this then is a prayer
to god, to beauty and youth
to coffee and sexual desire
and the power to move mountains
start wars
inspire greatness
and tiny epiphanies


image: coffee love letters, 2014 cc