goodnight and go
[from a second wave – poetry]
every snapshot in my mind
of your beautiful smile
the voice that rubs a warm spot
in my chest
i am fascinated
in tow by heartstrings
un-before discovered
played now
like some fine symphony
bowed or plucked strummed
and ringing with joy
8-7-14
image: imogen heap, promo photo, creative commons usage
a dream undone
[from a second wave – poetry]
i see the image of stairs leading upward and away
and i think of leaving you, or of what was left long ago
it’s an exit or a return, a dream undone
of travel, and escape, decay and breakdown
any repairable years have been lost, all is lost
and yet, there is the arriving or departing
the traveling and hope that is still captured
in ascending motion towards another future
what’s past is gone and overgrown
there are devils and snakes there
in that house we built and dreamed up together
it’s not as if i’d like to return
not to the house of my father either
no
it’s a pause
almost a prayer of …
loss
thanksgiving
escape
delayed gratification
or no gratification at all
a reflection of moments unlived
and children unfathered mid-childhood
the gate remains closed to me
and the armies of decay have set in
where we once ate delirious breakfasts
hopeful lunches and spirited dinners
everything was ahead and above us
like the stairway to our adult lives
each step a new milestone along our emergence
into moms and dads
with arms already beginning to show their weariness
as we carried each other
and these marvelous bouncing cherubs
i’m not sure when the weeds began to take hold
but i am sure you saw them first
and wished that I would save the stairs
without having to be told there were issues
and if i didn’t know and you didn’t say
the roots took hold and began to break the foundation
whisper quiet and relentless
i am no longer writing you love poems
they are about other women, other moments
hopes, reflections, and dreams
but you stopped hearing my voice
as you were overwhelmed by the fear or antipathy
and the poem, pray, song, hand across your back
no longer brought a blush to your cheeks
and as the green tendrils continued their march
you could hear nothing but the crumbling stone
as you hovered and worried over the boy
and championed and cuddled with the girl
and left me alone night after night
it was no happy palace we were defending
there were no defenders and no calvary to call
only us
and the house that leaked
and the babies that cried
and the emptiness
of the first ice storm
we should’ve bundled together
but we bungled apart
and the weeds were covered and forgotten
by one of us
and held as evidence by the other
the cold halls
and icy rooms
under dank blankets
in separate rooms
with the dangerous night
and clicking of sleet
and ticking of a clock
that was louder than any hearts
left inside
8-23-14
image: found via g+, no attribution, creative commons usage
temper the joy
[from a second wave – poetry]
with potentially dangerous epiphanies
i learned to temper the joy
hide the enthusiasms
mistrust the high
i could not contain
i tried many strategies
tell no one
tell selected few
tell my therapist
none worked very well
epiphanies may be between you and god
see… that right there is the problem
saying stuff like that
gets you in time out
and adult time out is much worse
then kid time out
so for now…
this time…
this joy
moment
bliss
i’ll keep between me
and
my
…
you fill in that blank for yourself
no, it’s okay, i’m good
8-2-14
image: the final cut, robb north, creative commons usage
dark woundings of my own
[from a second wave – poetry]
the precision in a glass of wine
loosening the tongue just enough
to truthfully expose the inner heart
the pumping seething heart
rich red with healthy passion
or black blue with choked off pain
i cannot stand in your way
nor cushion your deep slide this time
my target is moving now
released by your trigger finger
and slippery anger-joke-anger
mad, just kidding, is still mad
and opening the door
date-night door, as well
with “i’m mad” is a sure sign
as sure as the slight slur
almost imperceptible, almost passable
but the message uncoiled and venomous
was unfiltered this time, by feints and jests
and the bile poured on the floor between us
what could’ve caused the flood
releasing pent-up frustrations and …
what
a deathly release from being loved
a striking to keep from feeling
a fear greater than being loved
a fear of loving and losing again
i can’t survive this poison
i’ve seen too clearly the trajectory of loss
disappointment and un. met. expectations.
i survived this song long ago
so long, i no longer want to do the dance
around the venomous tongue
the wounded and striking viper
i won’t go back to charming
starring with glassy eyes, praying
playing the flute
hoping for a long and happy life
i failed my snake charming class
and burned the books
branded with my F
but released from that prison
of dangerous shadows and unknown traps
i am released and recovering
from dark woundings of my own
i won’t take on more
hurt
no matter
what the
love
provided
now
or
then
8-1-2014
image: models dive 25 meters, bejamin von wong, creative commons usage
please stay gone
[from a second wave – poetry]
i can’t take it back
you’ve got it
our love has spawned
these beautiful
beautifuls
and when you’ve got them
i am ultimately alone
alone in an ultimate way
a way i never anticipated
as we looked ahead
our mad plans
and said
i
do
today
i don’t
and i can’t imagine
what misguided joy caused you
to send me photos
happy photos
i guess you’re showing me
“our kids” are so happy
but
why
are you in any of the pictures
so i can put you up on my mantle
if i had a mantle
please leave yourself out
your smile still hurts
the ache now is for them
and the loss of any seconds
with them
you were my world
you are gone
please stay gone
thank you
4-30-14
for the story read: divorce support
image: dad and kid on the beach, dinuraj k, creative commons usage
some distant storm
[from a second wave – poetry]
i know you do not understand
and i have resigned to that knowledge
there is no concrete image or metaphor now
that will bring things back around
to set the world on its proper path again
once we have tasted love, heat, desire, unlimited
we are hungry forever
unafraid in the quest for breast and bone beneath
i cannot take away your joy
or smooth out the creases of this life
but the days can move easier in my arms
we walk alone down this new dusty path
and rain clouds seem always on the horizon
things are different now
fractures and scars they say are stronger
but a ghost of the pain remains
no matter how tough we appear
how confident this voice you think i sing
each love song for you
even before we’ve met
i knew you’d arrive
eventually
as long as i kept singing
but as this night falls
again with some storms between us
i cannot help but feel the rise of the hair
on the back of my neck
warning of the storm
the flashes of brilliance
followed by clusters of noise
it is no easy task loving another person
there is no sudden unlocking
but as we uncover each new inch of skin
and listen to the complaints and joys
hearing deeply for the resonance
we begin to open
fall
grasp again at some dream
of what we had
what we would become
how things might still
this one time
work
out
7-24-14
image: rain? set, cj romberger (cjromb), creative commons usage
wet
[from a second wave – poetry]
let’s get wet
and forget about the consequences
flood our senses
with cinnamon and scars
each inhale of you
i take another step
towards some cliff
of exhilaration
in the sun
your glisten
happy laugh
and arch of your back
this maybe the only moment
nothing before or after
can touch our now
nothing
but
now
and
you
7-19-14
an infinite goodbye
[from a second wave – poetry]
the next time I saw her
i was unable to look in her eyes
too much had passed
words that should’ve never been spoken
and i didn’t want to see
the smile, the body, the hair eyes breasts and skin
that i adored for years and years
now stripped from my grasp
from beneath my fingers
i no longer had beauty beside me
and in my loneliness
i found
how we’d never been quite honest with one another
she’d not told me of her trespasses
and I had taken the path of non-resistance
and left her alone
in the bed
trying to sleep
rather than make love
we were tired
she deserved her rest
but
i fell
through the cracks
and let my energy dissipate
with every night i did not demand
that she love me back
that she receive my touch
that she reclaim her own joy
the part I had fallen in love with
it was not my part to recover her
so i fiddled
and complained
but did not demand
my fully empowered wife
to reignite
perhaps it was …
no it was both of us
it was nobody’s fault
but mine
7-18-14
image: Olivia Arezzolo by Gervin Puse, creative commons usage
this very last second of love i have for you
[from a second wave – poetry]
this very last second of love i have for you
is slipping beneath the spilled blood
your talons, now withdrawn, have damaged everything
nothing that remains will survive this
and i can see, from your anger
that there is still fury inside
even after the sun and moon have set
and we all survived
but somehow
your survival, your portion, is not enough
how is that?
which part of fair did i miss?
how was the 50/50 parent
not a valid co-parent
in your eyes
surely our kids know
surely you know
this is not about love or peace
or them
this is about you
your desires
and your pound of flesh or two
but why
what still burns so hot inside you
to bring such vengeance from above
what part of this family
has gotten you so angry
it seems your counselors
need to examine the hot rage
the blistering wit and anger
that rises like a cobra within seconds
i’m glad i was not alone the last time
we had a third-party
and we survived
but i realized why i would never have survived
your wrath
over and over
as you ground
everything to a halt
so you could get off
out
on
with something else
4-15-14
image: 229/365, martinak15, creative commons usage
ready for the yes
[from a second wave – poetry]
i fall too easily
into the curls
of the woman in the green dress
a shape and form of attractive proportions
and i would say yes
to whatever she suggested
before she’s even had a chance to speak
thus is the romantic
and the poet
captivated by beauty
driven by desires
unspoken yet captured
in this random scattering of letters
i amuse myself
with this whimsical passion
and flights of fancy towards bright ringlets
usually i’m drawn to darker locks
but still the yearning is real
i am the poet of longing
of imagining my lover into existence
if that was how it worked
but i don’t need to capture her
only this song this prayer this appreciation
i don’t need to smell her perfume
or hear the sound of her voice
talking about things i might find less alluring
and there she is
whole, complete, perfect
and distant
this is not what i want
i want close skin
whispered passions
raucous laughter
i want to be loved back
to be fascinated by the curve of an ankle
the tease of a toe peering out of a sandal
but not the promise
not the imagination of her
i am ready for her
the woman
the yes
the
“what’s next”
7-14-14
image: random girls, thomas xu, creative commons usage
goddess in a little black dress
[from a second wave – poetry]
home is what remains after our youth has passed
your beauty shines beyond what i can see
i have hungered for your voice, your lips, your smell
as you wrap words around my mind
hands around my hands
hunger into my flames into a blaze
if i wanted a model i would need a lot more money
and after it’s all been stripped away
a pretty face is also a burden
it’s not what i’m after, this youthful body
but the lust is primal, real, raw, and awakened by you
this is what is important
energy to build on, hopes to fan the flames
a deep black nothingness that i fall into
without fear or clutching
let’s release the drug
that brings
everything
in
to
this
one
moment
it’s not what you look like, exactly
it’s what you feel like
how you playfully tear back the boundaries
aware of your power and unafraid
to sear us raw, blasted, exhausted, still
i know not what i ask for
it is the stuff of dreams
and magazine covers in checkout lines
and still
any breast will do, any heart beneath that is ready to open
any now
could be the time
you appear
6-13-14
image: moran atías, creative commons usage
don’t tell me how it ends
[from a second wave – poetry]
i close my eyes
hoping not to notice
the numbing sadness
overtaking my momentum
not this time i say
i’m detached and calm
cool and moving forward
except we were so close
well, except
for the fears
and slips in judgement
and chemical release
that held us to the breast
letting me down
closing my eyes
don’t tell me how it ends
i’m just beginning
7-8-14
image: smash, anthony topper, creative commons usage
it’s three o’clock
[from a second wave – poetry]
once more i find myself alone
it’s not as if you could come with me
everywhere
that’s silly
but
it’s a thought
i take you with me
always
for now
you are the object of my desire
i guess that’s good and bad
if i’m obsessed then it’s bad
if i’m just romantic it’s good
if i’m unrealistic, of course i am
you are amazing
we
could be
and there is the rub
the pause
the caution sign
i know, i hear you, i understand
but i don’t have to like it
and of course there are things
that don’t quite fit
that aren’t quite right in my dream
of next generation us
because i have scars
i am willing
and waiting
if today
you said
i want to be with you
i know that i would smile
if today you said
i love you
i would feel a moment of
wtf
holy shit
wait, what?
but you don’t
and i don’t
so we go along
as you have asked
side by side
sort of
and then
isolated
as well
7-5-14
image: kiss me, sarah (rosenau) korf, creative commons usage
a little love poem
[from a second wave – poetry]
it is simple
and nothing
a poem
about loving someone
you, in particular
but it is something
a nudge
a prayer and promise
in the direction
of
becoming
a song
a dance
a time we share
7-2-14
image: seaside woman with piano, artur mashnich, creative commons usage
the hunger and the beauty
[from a second wave – poetry]
gazelle and zebra
dash and zip by
and i am tempted
by the hunger and the beauty
and the chase
but it is you i want
all the pretty women
in bright shorts and bra tops
are delicious
to my eyes
and something inside
but it is you i really want
i cannot have everything i want
and i know this very well
i have learned to dial it back
to be a bit quieter
reserved
but it is not youth i want
we run we jump we play
as older beasts in the herd
and find our desire in similarities
and contrasts of all kinds
that fascinate me
still it is you i want
if you see my eye flashing
as the athlete runs by
base instinct ready for the hunt
and you see my heart quicken
just for a second
know, it is you i want
beautiful women are all around
we too were young and sleek
god continues to amaze
and we continue to worship
and learn new prayers
still, it is you
6-30-14
no dream
[from a second wave – poetry]
we are both waking up
to what could be
not yet what is
what waking up together
might be
testing tendernesses
and embracing
now
days without you
even they build
more fascination
longing that i know
and someone that i’m meeting
again and again
at the edge of what i’ve known
you are the unknown
and the future is
unknowable
you are the risk
i want to take
to fly
release
fall
6-28-14
image: stars, robb north, creative commons usage
in between
[from a second wave – poetry]
the moments in between
in pauses
i imagine you
you
beside me
saying something exotic
and promising
a glint in your glance
warms the cockles
sets the deepest bones
aglow
this in between time
is ours
6-24-14
image: because your lips are the light of my world…, courtney carmody, creative commons usage
my dos equis
[from a second wave – poetry]
my dos equis stay in my closet
their skeletons still affect me
but i keep their comments muted
by closing the door
whenever i hear them speak
complain, yell, taunt, whine
and occasionally even call out
for love and support
but that’s not often
mostly i leave them
hanging behind the dusty suits
quieted and dark
in their own
void
6-23-14
image: dia de los muertos, wikipedia, creative commons usage
and the return message
[from a second wave – poetry]
it is best if i don’t tell her
if i keep my passions restrained
and her curiosity engaged
about what i’m doing
what i’m thinking
am i thinking about someone else
if she knows she’s got me
she can begin to relax
might be inclined to running away
we’ve been here before
and i learn
sublimate
quiet down
poems are abstractions of love
i cannot love her this much
in the time we’ve had
it is not possible
she must know this
but the romantic illusions
seem scientific to her
the words ring as declarations
and her independence is at risk
that’s not how i think about it
about her hips and kisses
she can be everything to me
and Aphrodite still has a hold
on the language and aspirations
even if she is just a woman
a plane woman
a beautiful and desirable woman
she is just a woman after all
the poems are sent to goddesses
as worship and prayer
i call for “her”
but i don’t know what she would look like
what it might feel like if my poem
were answered, embraced head-on
i’d like to try
i’d give it a go
i’m still calling out for something
more available and easy
and yet
i am here now
everything is okay and blissful
in some aspects
i am exactly where i am supposed to be
i don’t know what’s next
i dream and desire for more
bigger
resolution is not the answer
there will be no resolution
we, we will be, a work in progress
always in progress of compromise and desire
expectations that cannot be met
and others that are fulfilled with aces
i wait for now
poems offline and out of view
for fear of giving her reason to freak
to misunderstand a word of desire
a phrase of something other than her
and i get it
i kind of understand
but i haven’t experienced it
even with two artists as ex’s
i don’t recall any love poems returning
i wish for them
i ask the gods to send her
and what i have is her
enough
real and plainsong beautiful
the goddess in high heels is too much
and i become uncomfortable
shy even
or angry, i’m not sure which
for if the goddess really received
and my lyrics were true
all my desires, by now, would be filled
but that’s not what it’s like
that’s not now, or here, or her
in this moment
i want for nothing
her smile perhaps
her kisses
and dark liaisons
and the return message
“yes”
6-21-14
image: red, paul meulman, creative commons usage
the less i say
[
[from a second wave – poetry]
the less i say
the more mysterious i become
but mystery is not my objective
illumination and light
are what draw me in
if i reveal too much
show my romantic side
i risk frightening you
i don’t know what that feels like
but i can imagine
and i can crave the same reflection
pulsing back at me
in waves of desire
and song
both expressed and telegraphed
through touch and taste
still we remain apart
quiet
distant stars
still connected by gravity
and the tides of our hearts
there is no accelerating this dance
without risk of injury
or loss of limb
please keep your hearts
inside the cabin at all times
and don’t hesitate to call
if you have questions
6-19-14
image: dark wave, elena lagaria, creative commons usage
arriving at now
[from a second wave – poetry]
we don’t have to get it right
or know what we pretend to know
ease and comfort
and staying present
is the joy of your skin
the tilt of your laugh
the smile you bring
as i imagine
how you feel
to me
now
that’s the important bit
now
6-16-14
image: jackie martinez, mark j sebastian, creative commons usage
the church of women
[from a second wave – poetry]
in this fantastic moment of beauty
i am in awe of god’s variety and joy
in the aisles of organic kale, bree, and beer
the women are in bloom
colors and scents and smiles on their faces
as they plunder the produce
i roam because i am dazed
i think i want ice cream
i know what i want is not for sale
i ache with the absence of beauty
and the loss of that dream once spoken
and i weave through the stream
in search of and not in search of
i have no immediate needs
only fascination
and reverence
there is beauty checking out chocolate
and another with messy-faced children in tow
it’s not the who or why or who-they-are
it is simply the church of women
seeking whole foods and whole lives
and no amount of Haagen Dazs is going to bring back
the spark
i wander a brief moment longer
lingering in the ebb of life
and the endless variety
endless possibility
of this life
and that one
and another one
picking out bubble bath
6-14-14
image: misty in the flow, hermetic hermit, creative commons usage
the green bike girl
[from a second wave – poetry]
the green bicycle flashed by
and i caught a glimpse of tan smooth legs
and white sneakers pumping away
as she swerved into traffic
away from me
it was enough to make me want to follow
to turn into the incoming traffic
i have a thing for cute legs
i guess
or cute women
or… something more insidious
just “cute”
the rest of the story is made up in my head
she
the she i see
has little to do with the woman riding the bike
her choice of shampoo
or what color the sheets are on her bed
are all part of my imagination
long after the flash of desire
the brilliant green outline of her bike
the contrast of her strong legs and bright shoes
and the flash inside my brain
a synapse that fires with regular abandon
nothing to be done about it
but say “ah yes” a pretty woman
a pretty young girl on a bike
and this amazingly hungry heart of mine
and head full of poetic imaginings
some might call it obsessive or compulsive
but i prefer artistic
romantic
prolific
these words that frame my desire
in something other than reality
because how much of what we fall in love with
is reality?
are we in love with the chores and mundane beats of life
do we thrive at our desks
far away from the objects of our affection
without the poetic mind
my life would be quite boring
i would be afraid more often than i am
i would love less deeply
i would stay on the surface when my heart says dive
i would never see more than the flash of leg
and the turning away of a young soul
but i see more
i love more
i derive pleasure from things that are not real
ideas that are never expressed
loves that are never culminated
and it’s okay
it’s how i want to be
i want her too
but she’s not here anymore
and until then
sometimes a green bike
holds a key to unlock
hopefulness
in beauty
and time
and
most importantly
love
again
6-12-14
image: schwinn racer, richard masoner, creative commons usage
no longer feel her
[from a second wave – poetry]
in the moment i could no longer feel or smell her
but her glow was still around me
though her breasts and mind were elsewhere
she was all i could think about
it’s not healthy, i know
it’s not obsession either
it’s…
well, love is a pretty strong word
lust?
i don’t think i know what any of that means anymore
oh, i know the energy she gives
i know the pleasure
and the secrets
i can’t wait any longer
and yet
waiting is the name of the game
it can’t be all the time
balls to the wall
all in
all all all
it’s just now
it
is
her
5/3/14
image: touch, bhumica bhatia, creative commons usage
