Unappreciated Oak.

Slowly, the swaying oak, she moans and creaks
While reminiscing all the life that seeked
For her to cover them, giving a home.
Yet now she stands, wrinkled and hard. "You've shown
No care! You creatures lack a worry. Will you
Protect me? What if human blade through (not finishedddd)
Sink deep, my many rings will be sliced deep
Chapters of your small lives, are held, I keep."

Forest Fire.

"Yo, hit this shit". unknown, the mighty blitz.
And smoke seeps from my mental orifice.
I have a neck, the base of my chalice
That fills with thoughts, madness, some brilliance.

A high, the twirling night and spinning stars
Pure sanity now gone: once clean, now sparked.

Firm Beak.

This forests orchestra serves me well
As I lay on this stump, feeling like hell.
The birds, they chirp, the woods rustle,
My spirits rise, as the beauty nestles.

A cardinal screams at my shitty mood
Which lifts discovering it really cries for food.
I fall to my knees and join its hunt underground
A worm’s home, so obviously worms must be found.

Time slides by, I find myself dirty and laughing
And realize like my problems, we are all nothing
But hungry birds searching for worms,
Who really, as long as our beak is firm

Can take to the sky,
Close our eyes and fly.

Did you know that?

Your curve, when your body spins
under the sheets
makes my thoughts a little hectic.
Did you know that?

Your hair, after we wrestle our desires
Under the sheets
makes my want for you a little more intense.
Did you know that?

Your smile, after I tell you ‘I love you’
under the sheets
makes me never want to let you go.
I hope you know that.

Insidious addiction.

I am tangled.
This insidious addiction,
is what a smoke is to cancer.

A harmless inception, to the certain end.












Wed, May 11, 2011

Unnecessary.

I flick my cigarette forward,

Take a few steps and put it out.

I didn’t need to though,

It’s raining.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011 

Word of The Day(s)

Pain. Anguish. Tears:

Loss. Mourning. Loneliness.

Time.

Reflection. Healing.

Renewal. Individuality.

Time.

Friends. Fun. Alcohol.

Club. Dance. Lust.

Time.

Love. Union. Marriage.

Partnership. Trust. Home.

Time.

Pain. Anguish. Tears:

Delivery. Birth. Baby.

Monday, September 6, 2010

The Comforts Gone.

The comfort of her kiss,

Slowed my beating pulse

To a pace rhythmic to hers.

A beat worth living to.

...

And now alone, I forgot how to be.

I lay, clutching my chest.

A single heart sings no duet.

Friday, September 5, 2010

One Night.

It was a burst of sparks, fireworks

and I saw that second of flash.

It was the love shared one night

between two strangers, lonely in a bar.

And although ephemeral, the climax still lived.

That spectacular second of love.

Saturday, September 4th, 2010

Homeless.

Forced to live out of a suitcase,

I can only survive

By wearing old memories of you.

My nomadic heart has no place to go:

I am homeless.

It was my fault.

I burned down our house.

I thought I was fire,

And flung my flame recklessly.

Our blanket caught a light

And like your love for me,

Everything was destroyed.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Steamed Milk.

The cappuccinos froth

Must surrender to the weight

Of the non-refined sugar.

The coffees protective cloud

Has realized itself

Too sweet.

The final pinch, and

The crystals of fructose flavor

Descend, collapsing

Into the dark bathe

Of steamed vitality.

The cups flavor has been converted.

And at last, they swirl by way

Of a wooden stick,

Mixing into perfect harmony.

This cup is a tale of lovers,

A romance of unlikely beings

And for my morning, required.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

‘Taste’, St Andrews.

My Map, Ants World.

A map I held was yanked from me by the wind,

And now lays dormant in the grassy meadow.

Now a paper stage for the black ants to parade on,

Their tiny steps are monolithic across that world.

June 24^th, 2010.

Laying in grass, Ellsworth, Maine.

Burning Baptism.

You are the softly flowing stream

of fire

Scorching me as you drift.

You cover my body:

A baptism of love,

An inevitable pain.

As I step deeper into your waters

And drown in this love,

Let the last feeling I know

Be the burn on my lips

The current, be your passion

That drags me under.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Briarcliff, New York.

Happy Birthday To Me.

I summon the muse of responsibility

To lay waste to this story

That is not worth telling.

May 6^th, 1990

He is born.

Please close these curtains.

May 6^th, 2010.

My Birthday.

I Burned Some Wood.

Singed gentle wood,

Your fragrance is sweet,

And playful with the senses.

My nose, your scent

True friends, distanced

But now reunited by flame.

Together, we take a trip in my mind

Traveling back to those times,

By the warm fireplace.

Winter, 2008.

Living room, New York

Someone Fixed The Old Man.

Someone fixed the old man

Straightened his back

And took pain from his eyes.

Someone fixed the old man

And now he sleeps like a child

Six feet underground.

Winter, 2009.

A sad snowfall, St Andrews.

Haiku: A Lions Pride.

So soul speak strongly!

Where a whisper will crumble,

A roar reigns supreme

June 22, 2010

Maine, Ellsworth.

Please Call Back?

I call.

a vain attempt from my mouth

To satisfy the need of my ear:

The need to hear her voice.

What is the worth of your response?

A satisfied ear, an achieved mouth,

My relieved heart.

June 22, 2010

Maine, Ellsworth.

Haiku: A Love, Too Far Away.

An exhausted mind,

A collapsed dream of success.

I will not do this.

This will not happen:

You there, me here. Never close.

My heart cannot stretch

So stay far from here

Here is home to another

You, the former love.

June 22, 2010

Maine, Ellsworth.

The Virgin Growth.

'Spread your petals,

My tightly bound bud,

And be free from your

Bind of faith.'

The suns rays achingly kiss

The un-bloomed flowers

Green cheeks

'Let me inside,

Embrace my warmth.'

…

The virgin growth

Sways in thought
'Is this true love?'

Convinced, she strips,

Her outer layers opened.

She stands naked

Her soul revealed

Radiating inner beauty.
The two lovers now shine all day.

Spring, 2010
Garden of St Andrews

Forced to Fight.

Forced to fight,

Life has beaten me senseless.

My fabricated comfort, shattered.

I bleed remorse for my childhood love

Of a future proud.

I lay clothed in bruises:

Badges of the painful truth

That I have lost.

February, 2010
St Andrews, Scotland. 

Smoke.

The Room Dancer:

She rides the waves

Of wind and motion.

Swaying with the utmost uncertainty,

She is a floating spider web.

Born from flame and breath,

And expelled from the mouth
She is never dying,

But blending.

The atmosphere has never had

Such a friend.

It’s amazing:

Imagine a thing

That plays with you

While you play with it.

A dance of smoke and flesh.

Summer, 2009
My Basement, New York.