Monthly Archives: June 2018

Dear John

It is though a garden here,
making my way
up the rows,
picking letters to form
into words to hold,
as bundles in my arms,
to place upon the paper
just so, to sign, address,
then let it go.

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The Salt

I am,
what sweet reward
awaits him
with mouth
to savor
in me
himself to sew
a river
coursing
the banks to hold
such deluge
love will be,
such as the snowmelt
has never seen
the river so full
and coursing
its path
to where it meets,
together at last,
the salt.

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Time Reveals You

What seduction is this,
what play on words,
with the body draped
in mystery, and how
naive to think
we can stand unscathed
before the mirror
and keep ourselves
from being seen,
to keep all things
in secrecy,
when piece by piece,
we’ll be disrobed
in the slow process
of unfastening,
until all our buttons
and all our strings
have been undone
and have been pulled
in all of our undoing,
and as all garments fall
about our feet
we’ll stand in this;
such unrepentant glory!

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Midday Sun

Summer swoops the pond
full of dragonflies and frogs
as the swallows come in
for lunch amongst a song
of dancing bugs, and how
joyful this is to watch in the
slow heat of a midday sun. 

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Find Me

I am all but tongue-tied,
emptying myself of
how many words?
in other places,
with no filter, and no sieve,
and perhaps by doing so
I do myself and you a disservice,
for now, I am finding here,
a lack of words for not finding me.  

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I Would

If I could submerse myself
I would, into him, who is
the water, where no part
would be unknown,
no part unseen or hidden,
no part unfelt, but all of me
and nearly drowned,
I’d find in him, I’d float.

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Ask The Gods

You seem to punish yourself,
for the thoughts you have of me
are my thoughts, with arms
and legs to wrap around you
in this perfectly natural state,
where I have never doubted
I would be happiest
with nothing but you, and nothing
between us but a kiss of madness
upon the mouth. And I relish in it,
these thoughts with you, in all
this peeling away, in all our
nakedness, and there is nothing
I would hesitate or be ashamed
to say, when it comes to how I feel
about you. 

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Original Meaning

Let me rest
the words
here
between us,
and while
I sleep
to dream
in green,
may all the
the words
somehow find
their way
back
to their
original
meanings,
that when
I wake,
and still
hard-pressed
to be
against you,
will finally
know
what all words
meant
when said
in our
lizard brains. 

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Insatiable Desire

Beneath the covers
could we hide such
lustful appetites
with hands that run
the softest lines
along the body?
Like a trembling
newborn fawn
to its mother’s teat,
suckling, suckling,
hungry to fill
the mouth
with such sweet need
we have
of each other,
until the body
spent, wakes
and partakes again,
over and over
you asked,
and so we gave
of ourselves
like something
innocent, obscene,
and wild;
this inability to tame
this insatiable desire.

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Bed Pillows

Am I the last thought
to cross your mind
at night, and the first
to pour through your
eyes in morning?
And what do I do to you
in dreams, asleep and
waking? Where the roof
of the house is ours,
though not containing
to hold the boards
of the floors we walk on
that creak and ache,
full of the dreams
that run off of our
bed pillows.
So yes, I am listening,
beside you, waiting
for you to tell me, how it is
we got so lost.  

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Me Neither

He says something that resonates,
and I think, how true of everything,
where feet dare to tiptoe or abound
with no thought for consequence,
should be every Wordsmith’s motto
inscribed above the door frame,
‘unless the words lead me there, then
I don’t want to go.’ 

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Soldier of Experience

The hours,
they fall upon us
like heavy cloaks
as we pass
each other,
as we are forced
to march
and walk
through Time;
Oppressive Master,
always counting
to the meter,
to the rhyme,
“faster, faster!”
he yells,
in sounds of
constant ticking.
So incessant,
how many of us
forget and fail
to hear, these
cloaks we wear,
and how soon
Time will take
them back
and demand that
what was borrowed
for a season
be passed on
and given
to another
Soldier of Experience.

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These In-Betweens

There are no more words
I care to use
to build walls with,
and no more words
to bridge
such an expansive divide,
where all these
in-betweens,
they never existed,
and dare I say,
neither did you or I.
But what an untruth
we both know that is,
and what a falsehood
to say, what a lie.
So there are no more words
I care to use
to tell the world with,
how he loves me, yet still,
doesn’t understand why. 

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Loop

It really threw me for a loop seeing you like I did. And it’s so peculiar, even after thirty years, how the bone structure of a face, it never changes, and how recognizable it is; all the lines and angles I had grown so accustomed to, even the intensity of your stare, and for a moment, it felt as though we were both 15 and 16 again, and that nothing had ever changed, and that time had never taken either of us anywhere.  And I never thought I’d say this, not in a million years. Never thought for a second, that I would see you again and out of all places here. And never thought that all those feelings that took me so long to forget, and to bury, would come flooding back and all at once as memories – of you.

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Voice

I am in this quiet space
where I have
put myself
inside my head
where I think,
I am alone,
I think I am alone,
as I try to decipher
the Voice
I think I know
inside myself,
the Voice,
I can never
seem to capture,
the Voice,
so hard to pin down,
in this quiet space
where I have put myself,
where I think,
I am alone.  

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Time’s Advances

I know the words needn’t rhyme,
and I know as much as might try
I will never be able to force the
hands of Time backwards,
and I will never be able to stand
in the line of fire and bring to halt
Time’s advances.
But I might try to befriend Time,
to find in Time’s favor how I might
go unnoticed so that I will never
have to feel Time’s ravages,
at least, not until I expire.

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Thoughts in Sentences

How difficult
to be in this
one-sided
conversation,
where all one can
do is listen
and try
to comprehend,
“what is it,
about this
fallible condition?”
but condition,
nonetheless,
doesn’t make
much sense,
when all one
needs to do
is simply stop
and ask
the question. 

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Without Question

I undo you,
like a lace,
and as hard as
it is for you
to fathom,
and as hard
as it is
for you
to imagine,
how it is
to be loved
and without question;
I love you.

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Dance of the Fishes

Give me all the words
I ever needed,
standing in front
of an aquarium
and watching
how the jellyfish
seem to defy gravity,
like buoyed
ballet dancers
confined to a tank
full of water, but
how they all somehow
bring the ocean
with them.
And I stand there
mesmerized, and wonder,
how is it? they make it
look so easy, when
they’ve been preparing
their whole lives for this;
dance of the fishes,
and then, in comes
the roses,
thrown in adoration;
one upon the other;
for such extraordinary
wonder –  is to live!

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Lace

To be unhinged,
bolts pulled
at the waist,
hands on hips
slide into position,
the body pivots,
forward pressed
like a garment
ironed, heat
in a hot steam
at back of neck
where words form
against the ear
like water droplets,
then evaporate
delirious with feeling;
this muffled
labored sound;
this breathing,
in and out,
and in and out,
with hands
pushed down
and laced together.

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