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Sunday, February 26, 2012


This one kind of came out like a country song...or at least that's what it sounds like in my head. :-)

Not all days and nights are right for reminiscing
But sometimes the sunset seems to know
When I miss all the ways you touched me
With just the right amount of soft and slow
and with a violent passion
you beat right into my quiescent heart
and it’s there, where you still manage to flow

Not all clouds are shaped like yesterdays
But sometimes I feel like the sky is teasing me
It’s not the blue that reminds me of you
It’s the warmth of the sun, just before it leaves me
Then I wander back into that moment
When I first met your smile
Before that, I didn’t know all that much about happy

Knowing days like that can still live
Gives me hope that I’ll see love again soon
And not just between
the setting sun and the rising moon
but  in all of the places willows won’t cry
and for far longer 
than the sun lights up the hours of June

Monday, February 13, 2012

My Gratitude

How could I feel so much
From someone that lay
so many miles away
The way he touched me
Like some kind of magic trick
No hands
Just words whispered from lips
That slipped inside my heart
Though I could not watch their movement
Still, I felt the need to kiss

Make it true
Make it love
Make it this

For as long as the clock’s hands move
And as far as ours will reach
For as long as love has nothing to prove
And life has everything to teach
I will have someone to thank

Make it live
Make it move
Make it bliss

And now I go
Toward a season undiscovered
with no layers
with no fan
with no you
no way of knowing
whether I’ll fly away
or stand
no fingertips tracing
the lifeline on my hand

Make it fate
Make it you
Make your way to me

For as long as destiny has a resting place
And desires need a soft spot to land
For as long as hearts feel the urge to race
And canyons remain wide and grand
You, my love, will have my gratitude

Sunday, February 12, 2012

The Way She Came

Some may think she forgot the way she came
If she lifts her sleeves they’d see
Names of streets that stained her feet
She could recite them backwards
Picking up the rocks that trail
Back to before they became demolished dreams
A foundation settling on possibility
Nobody lives there now
So much has passed away
And yet
Still so much remains unvisited
Her thoughts the only train
That ride on the track
To the way back

Left turn at should
Right at should not
And suddenly you are
Where you were
Funny how easy it is
And how difficult it becomes

There are things that she doesn’t know
 some things she’ll never learn
And minds that can’t be untaught
she tries not to expose her wounds
and if they somehow become unveiled
she’ll hope you look away
not in dismay
but towards the reflections of denial
that she has poured
 along the way

If only there were such things as forgetting.
Jaded souls
can’t be traded
For new 
She couldn’t be someone else
Though there were times she tried to
Until the make-up smeared
And there she was again
Left to face her face
Some may think she has forgotten
But she knows the way and she’ll never show you
She goes the same way she came

Sometimes Life

Sometimes life
Disguises herself with dark make-up
And hail for hair
She closes the sky
And stays in for the night
puts the stars back in her jewelry case
…nobody noticed them anyway
Then she decides that she is sad
And bathes in salted tears
Refusing to drain her fears

 write her a love letter
explaining that her beauty is eternal
 and too infinite to be hidden
let her know that pretty
seems to like to rest within her dimples
sing her a song she’ll recall she loved
send her a smile she can hear in the harmony
her heart will change
like spring is every other season
and your charm will offer reason

When her eyes are too heavy
To accept the light
When her arms are too full,
 holding boulders of burdens
and pounds of pounding worry
When all that never was, is too bad
And bouts with doubts taunt
 like a sphere of nightmares recurring
When she forgets
All but the regrets…

Remind her who she is
In the beginning
 at the end
and all the time in-between
she is worth it
she is beautiful
The deepest part of everything

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


When we turn ourselves in
Like prisoners to the night...
Long forgotten
but not for good,
the summers  bright,
we will chase the shadows
and shake them up
until they return the stolen light

We will revisit
 the blissful ignorance
of potential plight.
Catch all of the fireflies
As they form words in motion,
Dazzling taste, touch,
 sound, scent and sight.
Terms of endearment
 leaping off the tips of our tongues.
We shall put them all in a jar
like pennies saved
for a lover’s quiet thoughts

I close my eyes and whisper
 “That’s it!
That was what I needed”
Any attempt to fight or flight
Would be foolish
and undoubtedly defeated.
then all the rush
of an anticipated touch
would rise and be known
through phrases repeated
without losing their novelty

We will hide from death,
Remain untouched
by December’s frozen,
 heavy breath.
Step away,     
walk in reverse
Until things get blurry
Then fall asleep on firm plans
To someday face the worry

Thursday, February 2, 2012

I Want

I want to be the poem
That no one has read aloud
 resting between lips that wait
behind a veil of fear
longing to be lifted for its first kiss with life

I want to be the poem
That finds new reasons to live
Buried within demolished sandcastles.
Surfing on forgotten summer dreams.
As bipolar as the ocean, with brief moments of calm

I don’t want to be the poet
tossing pebbles into ponds
while thinking of something else.
Although, I think it’d be sadder
 to be the unthought-of  pebble

I want to be
the poet unafraid
to dance to rhythms true
Salsa with the sun
And save a waltz for the moon

I want to have something to say
And then say something
And then read the words back
Through another’s eyes
And know that I am not lost...