Lost

Of all the things that could have changed
on the day that you woke up
and stumbled out into the fog,

when you felt your way through the mist
and found the grit of the world against your fingers

you fell against the walls, blinded,
and found no passage through the changing surface,

when you thought you had found
a glimmer of light
to bring back with you from the mist,

you turned around into the fog
and brought the darkness home.

fear of the dark

sometimes we fear things we should not

when everything darkens

and the panic rises in our throats

we find ourselves running

without purpose

without thought

but what if we stop

stop this mad dash toward the hidden precipice

look up and see what things were smothered by the light

bright pinpricks of life appear

pushing back the gloom on our soul

reaching out in joyful abandon

to help fill the rythmn

and join the dance of the universe

shadow

sing with lips of darkness
praise to the creator
orbs of such power
electric and sizzling
contained within a skin so fragile
you are the best of me
a shape so beautiful and simple
refined to the essence of woman
constant companion
embracing the dark
but only truly alive
when edged in rays of light

live in the journey

tip tap tippity tap tap
all the bustle of life fades as you see
the feet
dancing between the legs
of a sunlit rocking chair
people hurry past
aware of nothing but themselves
across the world these feet have danced
from Italian cobblestones
to the dust of the desert
and the hard sterile flooring of the airports in between
while the world rushes on
a single silhouette breaks the light
rocking slowly to the tap tap
of those traveling feet

inside

remember a few years back when i asked you if i had any passion to live for? when I wanted to swirl around the room and dance and felt my feet stand still like they were built out of lead? i wanted to be moved by the movement of a higher power – the grating of the planets of their planes of existence and feel all creation surge through my veins? and you said i was a wonderful, complex, vibrant person, with this joie di vivre and love for all things creation?

 

i have spent my days, since, searching, digging through mounds of dirt, like a vole trapped above its claws, pawing away at the secret that lay within me.

 

so i think i found myself on the way. 

 

i have a hole in me now – i wear threadbare clothes that are so comfortable – you know, the perfect pair of denim jeans, that hug every curve of my body where they need to, and i slip and slide with them and into them, and take them along with me everywhere i go?

 

my jeans? yeah…they have a hole. I have a hole in my pocket and a hole in my hands and a hole in my heart that i can’t sew back.

a toast

raise your glass, but don’t drink
for this glimmering liquid
is all the joy in the world

cubicle farm

little boxes
held in buildings
growing people
bent on working
at the speed of thought
nothing’s impossible
to us
the gods of the universe

Return

Flame that doesn’t burn
Knife that cuts only memories
Tears must etch so deep

fly away little bird

perched on the edge of failure
taunting the luscious Lady Fate
I calmly smile
and await the fall
into the loving arms of Death

golden opportunities

“Hey! How’s it going…”
you… i never thought i’d hear from you again.
“… and it seems like just yesterday that i talked to you…”
really?  i’ve lost count of the years.
i tried to call so many times after you left.
your friends always said you were busy,
though i could hear your muffled laughter in the background.
what a fool i was.
“… things have been so crazy out here.  You know how it is.  With the divorce and all…”
oh yes.  the divorce.  i had forgotten.
right after you told me how much you loved me…  that i was your world…
that you couldn’t live without me…  and then…
how eagerly you breathed down his tongue right in my face.
“… but that’s not important.  What I really wanted to talk about…”
and here it comes.  my reason for existance.
to run and fetch when you decide to crook your finger.
do you honestly think you still have that power?
“… the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other again.  It would be so much fun…”
ha!  really?  fun?  do you intend to rub the memory of him in my face?
or just make me clean up his mess?
“… and it would mean so much to me…”
oh, we’re getting to the good part…
“… so, what do you think?  I know you still love me.  You have to say yes.”
and there it is.  the assumption that after all this time, you still mean something to me.
i’m not be the boy you left kneeling in the rain with a broken heart.  i’m not going to beg now.
as a matter of fact, i only have one thing to say…
“I’m tired of being used.  Good-bye.”
click.