What you know, you know.

But only spotlights now.
I can see the wrinkles,
I can feel the sweat on my brow
as I concentrate so heavily
on a single stain.
Nothing but memories in my mind.

This sacred place,
our bodies' imprints gone
but never that look on your face.
I found something greater,
unseen but still resonating
from the baptized fabric.
Nothing but love that night.

Watching, slowly ready to look away.
A fool for trying so hard
to make the images stay.
I'll still cherish each crevice,
each truth only two can tell.
Everything—everything was all right.
10.28.01

Interpretation
Both of us
with pens in hand,
ready to write each other's lives
and assume we understand.
10.31.01

Waiting
Little plastic wrapper
waiting to be noticed by the wind,
picked up in its madness,
propelled into circles up high.
Glistening,
probably shoved into someone's dark pocket
but escaped.
Waiting.
Shaking with one gust
that was unfortunately not enough.
A push here or there.
A thrust.
Probably crumpled up to be forgotten
though the morsel was savored.
Now its chance to be something special,
part of the whirlwind
and not some lowly piece of trash.
Waiting.

And then Mr. Somebody
bends down,
shadows light,
muffles sparkle,
and taints the wrapper,
gives it another type of thrust
into another dark pocket

only to be forgotten.
11.01.01

Sparkle
If I told you what I saw yesterday—
The leaves sparkled as the wind
thrust them into a million different directions
and would leave the trees
naked and bare
and true
--just as you said.

If I told you what I saw yesterday—
the smiles wider for miles and miles
as the leaves fell,
tumbling to the cold, solid ground.
The vision reflected
the happiness in your eyes,
the smiles wider for miles and miles
away you came to show me
this Appreciation—

But did I mention what I saw yesterday?
RADIANCE!
The leaves falling—
I was falling into you
………………..As miles and miles
………….became
Minutes
………...Before I’d hit the ground
………...And shatter
………...Into a million
………...Little diamonds in your hand.
102801

Welcome
She sees me
see her,
wonder
where she’s coming from.
“Too sophisticated,”
she sighs,
“but up to something.”
I reply
(with only stares),
“Don’t look too deeply.
No one cares
where I’ve come from--
they don’t even know where I’ve been.
I can no longer heal empty souls;
they’re starved from within.”

And then she looks at her own stomach
and takes a bite out of the apple.

“Welcome to the other side,”
I sigh.
102401

0911
Attack on America,
they say we’ll get through it.
Our freedom, our democracy
will see us through it.

But could they see through the smoke,
the ash, the concrete…
shattering glass
from the Twins’
Downfall.
Fall down,
the Towers,
sparklers like fireworks
beautiful once,
Terrorism now.

Screams loud.
She screams loud from the streets
watching symbolistic irony.
The strongest power in the world
brought to a standstill.
“Even Disney World was closed, Mom!”
At least she wasn’t missing.

And for those without a mother,
a clue, or an answer…
no words tonight,
only sadness and anger.
091101

Tiger Lily
Where have you been
Tiger Lily?
We missed you down by the bay,
where the fantasies grow
and the disappointments go.
I saw your shadow yesterday,
but you fled so quickly,
like the wind in May,
over the innocent child’s face.
Why do you lie so limply?
Has your breath
been captured in a bottle
and thrown to sea?
Have your wings bent,

torn,

Straighten your rags
and take my hand,
here, stand by my side
and look to the horizon.
Kiss the sun
and do not be afraid of being burned.
Know the best will always return.
071401

A Conversation with Eve
I’ve had to stand on the outside
to see within.
Where has the light gone?
No words on paper for months now--
no motivation.
Have you ever inflicted a wound
just to watch the ink bleed
and freeze?--a cover, a security,
a promise that we will heal
someday.

I asked Eve once, “Why?”

“Jealousy,” she sneered.

And I ask myself, “Now?”

“You won’t know it’s coming!”
she cries.

The trees fell faster that night,
faster than it took to fill this heart,
to see within.
The light intensified in the wind
of our souls,
all those times we ran from
what would never go away.

Let those times ring loud,
and beckon the Muse.
Because here comes the Inside,
ready to stand on the outside.
071401

Worms
Eye watch the birds fly North,
never able to feel happy--

uncomfortable.

Subtly subdued,
she was gone from the start.
She ran from the truth,
dared to read the heart
in scrutiny.
Imagined a world that loved to suffer.
Here, love the child and mother
by the sacred cross,
where X marks the spot
of close-mindedness
for now and for centuries to come.

Fly in formation, little birds.
Eye will take this elsewhere.
071401

Marionette
He comes like the devil, enters our dreams,
slowly, a surprise to the soul,
an exposure of truth
with a chance to deny the whole crime.
But there’s never denying the heart.

He came slowly
and never faded away.
Jade, soothing eyes behind
the curtains on our stage.
We were never honest with ourselves,
only actors in an effort to get applause
in a world where pride
will blow the socks of anyone.

Red roses crisscross the stage,
a joyful dance of praise.
Encore for the pretty ladies.
Take your bows
and be forgiven--
not forgotten.
Never.

There are some things we never asked for.

071401

The Lion (four Haikus)

On the hill, eyes locked.
Paws and fingers, smiles and teeth.
Striped down on the hill.

Upward staircase, down.
Cleansed for a moment but lost
inside the lion’s grace.

From the hill, no sound,
but a lion prancing down
to challenge what I know here.

All the time, taking my time
as I learn the grass once more
beneath my clawed paws.
071701

The Fall
The caldron,
ideas brewing
but coming out or falling in?
Loud
quiet
resonating
buzzing
clanging
lasting
silencing
dying like the leaves in the fall.
Trying forever to be as beautiful as
the leaves in the fall.
The crackling, crispy air and
the leaves in the fall.
But the bugs don’t mind.
The sun is loud,
but the wind cools and calms
like the lullabies
loud
but quiet

Like the telephone rings.
Talk with yourself.
Hello. How’s the weather?
(Like the leaves in the fall.)
And nothing’s the same, after all.
The caldron bleeds ideas,
but coming out or falling in?

The greed of money,
No longer like the falling leaves.
Green and greed, celebrities
and applause
for the trees.

But the caldron of ideas
keeps brewing.
The leaves on the trees
keep brewing
keep signing
keep resonating
keep buzzing
keep clanging
keep lasting
keep silencing
keep dying.

Wo ai ni,
ke shi wo bu yao gaosu ni.
Wo hen kepa.

loud
quiet
resonating
buzzing
wanting to say something
clanging
lasting silencing
dying

don’t let it fade,
fade, fade, fade, fade, fade
like the leaves of the fall.

But we fell.
And we realized
that things would never be the same.
Dammit. A cycle
that we learn to live.

On the first day, there was light,
and we learned to live,
never the same.
In that caldron...
brewing,
misunderstanding. We learn to live
like the trees of the fall.
A cycle,
never to be broken.
A desire never to be broken.
A desire that deserved to be heard.
A desire that wanted to live
and be colored in
with the response of the wind.

Wo ai ni,
ke shi wo bu yao gaosu ni.
Wo hen kepa.

Afraid of the wind,
to fade like the fall.
A cycle since the first day.
Break the cycle.
071801

Pardon to Sarah
Why take pictures when nothing is permanent?
Shelves that will never be opened,
only the erosion of stone,
our souls
never heard.
The ivy grows,
I suppose, but even the web of the tress
is unfamiliar.
It has lived and died here,
like the prosperity to go.
So why do we endure strife
and walk among the graves?
Why do we live life
when everyone here was brave?
072001

Cemetery Song
Thorns and mourning,
crosses and losses,
weeds and freedom.
This is the cemetery song,
and the harmony blends
with the long, long reeds
that have grown for ages over these beings
lived and now gone.
Let’s sing this song
in memory of those
beneath the ivy.
072001

A Life Worth Remembering
She lived and died,
still radiant in the clouds.
Thunder in the distance,
her cries
louder, loud like the rustling reeds,
the foxes that find this place their home.
Tough like those who endured
but can no longer speak, feel, hear
the rustling of the reeds.
She lived for them,
filling up memory boxes
like butter and jam.
Took outings to the market,
and brought every last item to feed her lambs
and leave them without regrets
each night she went out
to make money for the beginning of the cycle
again.
A cycle, unending.
A love, needed mending
and the solace to bring herself to sleep each night.
Sometimes the thunder never comes.
072001

Elegy
I’ve been looking for a reason,
a well, an elegy
close to my soul,
to stir me up again
and make me whole.
I wanted to see myself again,
no more bullshit to find
in the crosses and the memory.
(Over-analysis never did anyone any good.)
I wanted to see the simple,
taste the simple,
hear the simple,
but feel the simply irresistible
under the influence of all that was once
unusual and innocent.
No, that’s bullshit again
in the worst way possible.
Too bad there’s no true reason
for the way things are...
072001

Pseudo-Sunset

Beautiful

pierced open like an orange
ripe on Sunday.

Eaten quickly by the ravenous,
Beaten loudly by the proud.

No regrets until the end.
Peels resting on the floor

Eyes crying citrus tears,
sticky on the palms

Masterpiece

072301

Lily II
Fourth week like the first
hot, scorching, itching to be
remembered.
will never forever
the texture of the grass
never forgot
the mission--this task
to find something better
under the hot, scorching,
itching to be heard
caresses of your son.
072501

Failing the Rorschach Test
I used to be a master of my soul,
but now I am a prisoner to the pen.
Take note, scribble out
gibberish, nonsense,
not mine without doubt.
Have I fallen too deep?
Can I no longer access the burn
to learn in my heart?
Logic became numbers:
love became addition,
lamenting became subtraction,
and the latitude multiplied,
multiplied, and multiplied.
But there was no depth.
Just an empty pen,
empty words,
stained paper,
and tainted dreams.
What was important no longer mattered.
I’d be lucky to get water
and find something so astonishing in my love’s face
that would chain me to the page.
But the pen--
but the books are empty
and my pen has bled dry.
Everyone’s watching,
but I no longer can try.
072701

#723
Could never do it all.
Why do we try?
Promises bind us,
leave us dry,
and we remember the bitter
in sweet, sweet memories.
Maybe disappointment is better than
maybe.
A definite pattern
found in a flash.
A ring--forgiveness.
A hole--embedded regret.
The dreams in a cloak of sorrow,
and we’ll see how cold it is
after we all leave tomorrow.
072701

Freez-er-Burn
Too fatigued to even say it.
Torn into two times 20
times around the school
in hopes that memory boxes
store our regrets in the heat.
Scorching sun, so constant
(but not forever), so brilliant
(now or never) take up arms
and pierce through the swords
that keep us locked in our puffy
worlds. Sleep soundly here.
(I’d rather burn than freeze.)
072701

From the Subject
I see you're writing poetry on the ledge, there.
Dark sunglasses,
innocent glances,
fast thoughts
but slow glides upon a notebook.
Pause.
Look up again and collect thoughts
faster than your eyes can take in the--
magic before you have been taught to disbelieve.
Magic.
The kind that may disappear
if you don't declutter your weak little head.
Memories
that you will never speak of,
the lullabies that send you to sleep
and eternal sleep--
you will take them to the grave.
Fast.
Don't lie about me in your words.
I wasn't born this way.
I don't even like bathing in blue
but it has taken me over,
over and over.
Popular culture.
Blue, blue waterfalls
across my lap.
I'm wading in your artistry.
But don't mention that--
just cradle that notebook
and love harder than any reality would allow,
and be happy that you only see me as
poetry. 042601

Is Yesterday's Tomorrow Today?
I leak loving juices for you,
just to taste that red wine taste--
and all the time I have not to waste.
Never again
will I say
"someday."

Or maybe
you would build a wall around this passion,
but I'd escape Tomorrow
just to be the next to be with you.
Across the way
there's something sweeter than sorrow.

Never again
will those regrets
wrench your heart,
bleed it to the veins;
Taste the remains
of something sweeter in sorrow.

Embrace this vine
from where you grow,
and exude those red wine remains
from across the way.
And maybe
tomorrow will become the day
to say
"today." 041901

The Storm
The cream-colored innocence
spilled over the tempestuous clouds
for a speed run to passion.
She smiled her lightning lips,
mouthed "forever" through the sighing winds
as he collapsed on top of her
--thunder--sweat coating the maiden's skin
as if to protect her from any harm.
He reached for her further,
trying to remember every crevice
of her body folding under his.
She grabbed harder so he might reach deeper
someday. He was more than a lover:
an anchor,
an angel,
an alignment between dreams and truth.
She crisscrossed over his rocky back,
down the gates, and circled over his cheeks,
up to his face to remind her that the gusts were real.
His hands finally met hers,
lacing souls for a minute.
They grasped fiercely as if never to let go.
"Forever" to those sighing winds,
because now they could expect
--can accept--the storm. 042201

New Year’s Circle
I stood in my New Year’s circle
Next to my Gemini and my man-made Virgo.
Eight pointed—laughs and smiles in anticipation.
Arms crossed and linked between
surprises for the next century.
Too long to wait.
Eagerness too great.
Pull with all your might.
I look to both.
Wish for the best.
Hope for a miracle.
And close your eyes.

1, 2, 3…
I pull and uncross my arms.
Pop. Shock. Bang.
And what remains?
They let the free their grasp,
and I obviously held on too tight.
No gift in sight.--
Just unwrapped mysteries.
Blind tomorrows--
I know what this means in the night.

I might have screamed.
All others laughed and played with their toys.
But I stood full yet empty.
Unopened. You never know the answers,
but I had to open them for myself
without my security.
It said much for the year head of me. 010101

Love & Sex
I watch a Saint
as she gives her soul
to a dirty wretch.
She says it's love.
She also believed in Santa once
and that everyone would marry safely
and that Papa would come home every day.
Some things aren't meant to go the way you plan,
Little girl.
Firebird, fly away from this place
before you get carried away.
Too late?
I'll hear it another day.

I watch a Rebel
tone down, but only in his arms.
I see her give in too easily once more,
but this time it's different. (Right?)
This time she's going to make it to the top
because she keeps comparing him to her first.
The weather will change her mind.
The striking similarities will scare her away,
or he will be frightened by honesty
and all they could ever be.
Take a break,
see it from the other side
before you let yourself go.

I watch an Angel
give his soul for real this time.
He's tangled in her hair,
drunk on her scent,
but he believes she was heaven-sent.
They become one too many times to count
this time,
and he'll give the rings
this time
on the account that this is a new way to feel.
There's time to love this time.
And she will marry their hearts
because she can.
One day she'll take his hand.
112400

#677
i can see it in their eyes
they are afraid of what i've become
where i've come--
well, they all know it,
others take the time to forget it
but i still sing along
though the tune has suddenly ended
112400

#671
It's just a name, I say.
Live up to it.
Look up to me,
and believe it.
Don't challenge me
unless you're ready to regret it.
Receive me as a magistrate.
Pray though your time is late,
and sing for me;
write to me
your grievances
because you feel
I'll know you--
hold you until the blood is dry.
Cry because no one else knows why
we're here today.
I guess it doesn't matter, anyway.
You'll never know.
Reassurance in yourself is comfort,
the easy way out
of truth and of memory.
Can't deny
the penury,
the innocence of market men--
and maybe then
we'll see the sky
between the clouds.
But it's all just a name.
100900

#669

She dances,

thick glass behind my eyes,
I can see her finally

I watch her,
and I know she's never considered
following--no followers
in her brain.
On her way

and I can imagine her
and her brother
as they may,
as they might--
like stars of an endless night

Too much power.
The ground suddenly covered in flowers.
And all my towers

I die. 100600

#670
Truth in a reflecting pool
looks twist-turned upside down.
It can be seen
by those who accept the phenomenon,
those who can pain themselves
because they know
tomorrow will be a step closer...

today is over and out.
Swimming deeper
every moment I
breathe harder--
to set forward time.

what no one else sees
because no one could ever accept fate.
Some have seen it all too late--

She cries that life is like some
movie black and white. ~Fuel