Monday, August 6, 2018

Seven Poems for Him

It started raining
While I was at the store
I could hear it
Falling hard and heavy
A soft roar upon the roof

I'd been thinking for days
Making endless loops
Trying to think of something
To share what was inside me

I bought cards
Looked for boxes
Pretty paper packages
To wrap my sentiments

It never feels like enough 
But I want it to be something

I walked out
Sheltering my prize from the rain
And in the sky I saw a rainbow 
And prayed I could remember 
My phone was dead
So I drove it hard into my heart 


Oh please God remember 

And I worried you
Being out so long
And I half lied to keep it a secret 

But I wanted to tell you
I want to share with you everything

And later that night
While you slipped into bed
And I washed my face
It came to mind
That a rainbow
Is seven bands that form a ring
Of which we only ever see a part

And with that thought
I began to write this poem


I wanted to write you some lyrics
Not that you'd have anything to do with it
Not like you'd make some
Soundcloud track
With a slick low-fi back
Beat that you'd link 
To your friends with a tweet
Framed with fire emoji

When you don't even use twitter

I just wanted to hear how you'd read them

In that perfected galloping way
That makes my insides ache
And want to ride alongside your lines
My words from your lips 
Becoming something like enlightenment

I wanted to fill it with serious word play
Like heart attack dog days
Referencing July heat waves
And the way you make my soul cave

I crave to be blessed with skills and technique which 
I'd write words impressive inspired and unique with
Mesmerizing meter with dynamic fluid flow
Your hazel eyes caught dreaming entranced in lucid glow

But I I'm not a lyricist
I just wrote shitty poems

And nothing ever quite fits
The way I want it to
But I'll try and I'll try 

Because in the end
It's always you

An idea I had thought was great
Is becoming somewhat a mistake
Seven poems I would write
To endear and delight
You know what fuck limericks
I've had more pleasant car trips 
The heat sinks into my clothes 
Enveloping me until the air I breathe 
Matches what escapes my lungs
I've been gone too long
But I'm on the road that takes me home
Several long hours
one exit
five turns 
And then I stumble through the door
Shuck my shoes 
And collapse into advancing stillness 
Until then my legs ache
From eight folded hours
My mind numbs from the endless lines
And the sun sinks against my right hand 
But it's not the cool dark
that draws me onward 
It's not the soft spell of bed and sleep
It's not even the end of all this
that guides my wheel
It's knowing that when my leaden feet
Cross that distant threshold 
I'll see your beautiful face
Waiting there for me
The moon is full
With Mars riding its heels
It kind of makes me wish
That the alignment of the stars
Actually meant something

Because I want this to have weight

They say something amazing
Is happening far from here
And I wish I could share that with you
Not to say
That I'm unimpressed
With what's before me

You know 
I find I've been seeing
A lot more of the sky
In these last couple years

Imagine that 

The moon is full of
song lyrics you've sung me
And the echoes of the sun 
Yesterday's daylight
And the stories of generations
And our dumb conversations

You said the other day on the phone 
After a long day without you
To lift the bow of my lips
That romantic movie notion
About the moon

And frankly I'm fine
If instead of tin cups and string
We share a pearlescent goddess
Our watchful Luna
Just you, me, and an idea of heaven
I want to kiss
Each of your fingers
One by one in turn
I want to feel the way your lips
Press themselves to mine 
Your skin
The softest I've ever known
Like velvet under my touch
I want to run my hands over it
And feel the beating underneath
The life breath of your body
Rythmic against my touch
I could wrap every inch of me 
Around every part of you 
And still not be close enough
At least I can find happiness
With the thought that
Whatever pieces of you
I choose to kiss
My love is always travelling
Straight to your heart
It was a few days ago
I was outside with you on our familiar trek
Wandering the empty night
The heat making mist peel from the asphalt
Above the ink black pools left by rain
When we looked up at the sky
And saw the moon adorned in rainbows 
It was then I thought to myself 
What a beautiful end to these poems
And I mentioned then the symbolism
Auspicious sevens and endless rings 
It tied everything together
Like a red box wrapped in silver ribbon
- And I want to mention now 
That I'd wanted it to be heart shaped - 
But for some reason
I found myself hesitant to write it 
Like putting down the last words
Seemed altogether too final for my liking
I'd rather it be an endless thing
I want this to be an endless thing 
The loop at the end of a key
Buried in a chest known only to us
A duotone iris encircling an endless sphere 
I want the rest of me to exist 
In a space nestled against this thing we are
And finishing these words
Seems a contradiction to that thought
But perhaps instead I will


Darkness eats the room
blurring this place and the next
and I wait for him
as he conjures threads of words
drawn from between the spaces
weaving a world just for me.

Monday, July 16, 2018


It's small
This hole of my throat
So how can it feel like this
Endless spiraling chasm
This unaccountable void
Like something huge
Wound up inside me

I yearn to fill it with words

String them together
Somehow, in some way
A knotted cord on which to cling
But nothing seems to stick
And I'm just holding empty threads

My father taught me
That to stop the rope unraveling
You seal the end with flame
But I guess, in a way
That's the problem

Because there's nothing inside me
And nothing for which I burn

Friday, July 13, 2018

Infinity Mirror

I move through the world
Like a funhouse with its
Thousand broken mirrors
Projections cast from the eyes
Of all these solipsistic ghosts
Each with their own painted image
To adorn my fleeting form
That ship in the fog heavy night

Somewhere in the fathomless
The sign of my passage
Strikes distant shores
Overturns small things 
Buried in the sand
Unknowing minds
Touched by my wake
Empty vessels that
Unwittingly carry
Some fractured sense of self

I yearn for this place
I've come to believe
Where the water is so still
And my image sits unbroken
In a crystallized momentum
All a million shining shards
That reflect the things
I believe myself to be

An imperfect glass
For an imperfect being
A face reflecting face
To have that be received
And create a light
That extends infinite between us

Thursday, July 12, 2018


A camera is this thing
A box made of metal and plastic
Fitted with mirrors and lenses 
And a hole to consume the light 
It diligently reproduces 
What I tell it to see

The aperture controls the depth
I open the iris wide
In order to make it see less
A thin line of perfect clarity
While everything else
Becomes unimportant

My eyes are lenses and mirrors 
They see an imperfect 
And upside-down world
That my brain then sets right
My mind diligently telling me 
This is the way things should be

You see
I am the opposite of a camera

I have trouble remembering 
The days become a streaming blur
Though daylight fills my windows 
A darkness still persists
The dim creeps in from the edges
like a cancerous vignette
It consumes the light

It becomes hard to focus
And I get this sinking feeling
That I'm out of my depth
Like I'm living in a tunnel
With curved glass on either end
I have trouble looking 
Beyond my eyes
Everything seems so unimportant

The camera sees anything I tell it to
But I'm not really sure 
How to show you 
What this is
That I'm looking at

And I really would like you

To see

Friday, September 22, 2017


There are clinical terms
That I could use
To describe the things I am feeling
Just like you can take a pin
And slide it through the flesh
Of an insect, an animal
And mount it on a board
Take a clean white paper
And carefully label it
Preserve it under glass
A stagnant moment in time
Freed from context
And easily digestible

I've seen scorpions in resin
Dangling from leather cords
A decorative motif
To dress the necks
Of rebellious youths
But like the skulls on leather jackets
Or in baroque paintings
They are only a reminder
The suggested recollection
Of the existence of poison
It will never instill a shuddering panic
As would a hard dry carapace
The feel of parchment paper husks
Shifting against the softness
Of a woman’s breast
A coiled tail
Above a beating heart

So while I would gladly provide
Something clean and neat
With thick cardstock
And leveled corners
Bathed under clear slick gloss
I simply have no words
That equal the weight on my chest
This pressure against my form
And a shifting against myself
And frankly I am adverse
To the feeling of pins


I am a waterfall
I spill out over
The island of my bed
Which in turn unravels
In sheets and blankets
Cascading onto the floor
A thing which in turn
Is currently represented
By murky pools of black void
The conceit of carpet
Existing only but for
Object permanence
A memory
Of feeling and stability
Beneath my feet
The black out curtains
Consume the rest
Drink up all but a sliver
That bathes my world in blue
Not enough to see by
But enough to be reminded
Of the abyss