Selected Poems

Window

Sadness is a window

Onto a blue expanse

Endless wonder

From a tiny room

Inside a coastal cottage

Questions appear like fireflies at night

And I wrestle with a day’s confusion

This pull, this call—

Part of a story that I’m not writing

Wounds beckon like the whistle of a wave

And worries circle like seagulls on the hunt

For fish that may never appear,

For creatures that may not exist

Mounds of sand

Like heaven’s landscape

A dream in miniature form

Projected on this surface—

But is it only a plane within my mind?

A realm I created from scratch

From moments had and illusions lost?

The sky is blue today

Speckled with pieces of cotton

Torn from an everlasting blanket

Which was woven without hands

But through this open window,

My soul creaks a breath

Of unfathomable desperation

And tears on reserve

Begin to form like liquid alloy

Spilled from a bottle turned on its side

My heart feels hollow—

And yet, at the same time—

Its veins pulsate—

Its memories pumping through—

Surging towards a dam that I have built.

Time has created distance

And distance has blurred moments,

Distorted memories

And in that distance and blurry distortion—

Sadness does not creep.

It explodes silently,

Like a specter unexpected

It leaves no trace at next day’s break—

But an echo sounds when triggered

By fears of present’s presence.

I sleep to drown it out.

I rest in knowing the feeling will not last.

But in this moment, my soul abounds in total supplication

To a pain I cannot quite understand

And I tell myself that’s how it is when human flesh

Makes up my form—

Even though sometimes I wish—I beg

To be formless.

I’d rather ride the wind

On days when despair makes me her companion

I’d rather be alone than sit with a voicebox

Of jokes I never found funny

I’d like to wallow—

Just for a little bit

And not apologize for wasting time

I’d like to find some more relief—

But life is give and take

It’s fair even in its ruthlessness

And so I know—

The trick to living is questioning—

And then being content with answers and with silence

Content with shrouded knowledge:

A light bulb under a linen

In a tiny room

In a coastal cottage

Where a window opens

Onto a large expanse

Where wonder and uncertainty

Greet me like a cool breeze

And whisper conflicting stories

That I have yet to decipher.

Planet

Wind carries

sorrow’s memory

like dandelion seeds

as I stare into eyes

a color I’ve never seen

and think of hidden hills

in a faraway place

under a blanket of autumn leaves

As I stare deeper

I now see

an undiscovered planet

in mystifying orbit

against a starless sky

And fear dissipates

as peace arrives

Thoughts of you

strike internal chords

playing healing hymns

and the softness of this place I fall

outweighs my heavy heart

…and faith wins

Lying next to you

hand upon your back

I breathe you in

and all the electrons I contain

begin to dance and spin

prompting my lips to part

preparing for words

But I hold back

In the stillness,

you’re half asleep

one foot in the awake

one in dream state

I want to say it

I’ve wanted to tell you

but instead

I fade into sleep,

awaiting a new day

My heart rises with the sun

feeling just as big

endless really

and perhaps that is enough

Each minute that passes

teaches patience

prompts reflection

And moments unexperienced

whistle and wave,

beckoning me farther

And closer

So I go

towards the hills

into the sky

beyond the familiar

landing on that distant planet

I didn’t know existed.

modern world.jpg — **Modern World**

Hollow hearts
beat out of sync
racing towards
a crippled reality

Lost voices
chant selfish hymns
as bodies bask
in false illumination

Egos inflate
as environments change
forgotten worlds suffer
at the gnarled hand of fame

This shadow world
pierced by tiny screens
traps souls like fireflies
with electrocuted dreams

Ambition melds
with a selfish need
for a righteous meaning
where meaning can’t be

Images waft
like the smoke from a bomb
leaving impressions of disgrace
on earth’s rugged palms

But there’s hope for us all
if we turn back the clock
to a simpler time
where air and sea mock
the delusional life
lacking reason or rhyme.

Paint Fumes

A whiff of neon orange spraying from a distance

Hitting that wall you built like liquid confetti

I’ll breathe it in again – I’m used to your graffiti

Can’s spout drips a bright drop on your coarse finger

Like blood from a psychedelic sparrow

Long ago pierced by cupid’s wayward arrow

As I approach, the scent gets stronger

And I am day-trippin on the memory of your smile

But now, it curls into a clownish grin and stays like that awhile

Sad but true, a headless chicken has more direction

A punch-drunk sloth more ambition

Distraction from self?

That’s your mission

Like those fumes, you used to intoxicate me,

I hung on every empty word

Now you just annoy me, stout and noisy, like a bulldog on acid

And my interest once piqued hard goes flaccid

You can tell, can’t you?

So you try for my attention,

aiming your weapon,

ready to fire

Just like some buzz killer for hire

I duck behind a dumpster, pungent with the stench of the past

But I inhale as deep as I can

and that old rubbish sobers me up right

Enough that I notice there’s something in your other hand,

you’re grippin it tight

It’s a stencil. Clearly a heart.

My heart.

But it’s upside down

Like some reversed tarot card.

“Tell me my future,” I say.

“I dare you, okay?”

You lift the stencil, turn it upright

And aim through the center.

I squeeze my eyes tight, preparing for mayhem

as your finger presses trigger.

But nothing comes out.

Go figure.

Shake, shake.

That shit is empty.

Lotus

From mud and mire came the lotus

White as light, earth’s magnum opus

Gentle, giant heart ablaze

Grasping nothing, since nothing could faze

The beauty of knowledge,

of patience,

of praise

Lotus recalled the pain and process

that brought her to the surface

Knowing even sorrow has a grand, diligent purpose

Through darkest night

and fog-filled day

Lotus rose from the ashes of dismal dismay

But what light through yonder window breaks

A second birth

as dawn rose to pray

That she be whole

No petal missing

All pieces mended

With invisible stitching

No human hand could craft her form

Only circumstance and time erode

The grime that reveals the treasure below

Her skin softer than silk

Her inner eye vast as the sun

Still – fear looms ready to strike, to stun

The world’s endless arms seek to mar, hope to shun

Voices aim to harm her layers one by one

But lotus light distracts

Arms retract

Voices cease

And lotus breathes

In effortless silence,

Joining a choir of transcendent peace.

Pockets

I remember you vaguely.

Your fedora forehead.

You cast a shadow even in darkness.

I didn’t know that was possible.

A piece of me will always be with you,

that torn pocket you recently stitched by hand.

A needle and thread,

creation and pain.

That’s our symphony.

We were beautiful, weren’t we?

Lies can’t exist in that feeling,

that never-ending pull,

that safety net you forgot to untangle.

You speak to me in dreams,

soundless, but boundless.

Will you ever leave my bed?

My life force exists without you near,

but memories haunt and tease,

pulling tears slowly from my eyes

as if with a string so thin I can’t even see it.

Have you ever felt an earthquake

that never occurred?

The aftershock is worse.

You shake me to my core without even trying.

Now you’re silent, absent, the way I need you,

but moments passed speak all the words I never hear

and I wonder where the ground below my feet went

and I try to remember the color of the sky

when I saw it reflected in your eyes.

It wasn’t blue like you might’ve guessed.

We walked a tight rope

between logic and insanity.

We fell several times,

hands grasping,

but the sky continued without a sign of the horizon,

and I believed it could last,

but dreaming has its own nightmare.

The waking up.

We plunged headfirst into ocean deep.

Even I can’t be your life raft,

nor you, mine.

Isn’t that the beauty of failure?

You can only pick yourself up

with your own two hands.

That was our legacy.

Did we learn it or force it?

I hate to say goodbye this many times,

but hello is even worse.

Let’s agree:

You keep your pocket

and I’ll keep mine,

on jeans we’ll never wear again.

But someday,

When distant memories are distant sorrows,

we’ll unfold the jeans

and find that pocket.

And maybe we’ll even smile,

and tear a seam

just to remember what it felt like to be seamless

even for a moment.

I will always love you.

I will always love a part of you,

The part that made me a little more of who I am today,

wearing pants with no pockets.

`Shapes & Colors`
Beauty’s rough edges grate on skin like sandpaper causing layers to shed and flesh to become raw But in the rawness weakness is exposed And in exposure does weakness pull, twist, and morph into the beginning of strength Like a fortress of barbed wire where sharp points meet smooth surfaces of body drawing blood as red as the inside of that orange we tasted yesterday That same day – when petals from a rose fell leaving only the stem and its thorns Reminders of the past Indicators of the future But a life without pain is like a photograph of a rainbow taken in black and white It offers no vibrance Beauty ceases to exist since it has no foil in ugliness And so…I accept the ugly, the painful, the heart-wrenching because that means that goodness, holiness, and beauty exist too And maybe they are sometimes one in the same Maybe there is no spectrum of beautiful and horrible Maybe it is more like a palette where colors bleed into one another And only when you mix dark, murky colors with the bright, warming shades do you create a new color never before seen by any eye And this color becomes the color of your soul. An unspoken radiance full of memories with invisible shapes Some sharp, others smooth Some bulbous, some angular In this inner game of Tetris we try to fit them like puzzle pieces But I say, let the edges blur and the shapes blend welcoming experience as if it were a beverage you just imbibed Drink up.