Three Verses

 

1)

It is morning in our millennium
The sun has yet to rise and burn through the fog.
I suppose I could be sleeping …..but of course….. I’m not.

Instead, I am on a train
I am looking through the window and watching the glowing streetlamps,
which look like blurry halos in the misty haze,
and they fade in the distance as my train pulls me farther from my home.

The sky is more charcoal now than dark.
My eyes are tired.
I could close them, but…

I never sleep on the train.

My back is towards my direction
my face is away from my destination
and my heart is somewhere else
…probably lying on her side, sleeping, and hopefully dreaming of me.

2)

They say you can hear the ocean if you put a seashell to your ear.
I say that’s good.
This way, you can put a seashell next to your ear and hear where my heart lives.

If you listen, you will hear the surf and imagine the seagulls.
You will picture the white foam that reaches the sand,
and the folding waves that return to the tides.

If you listen to this sound, repeatedly….
You will imagine the wintertime sand, still embedded with the footprints and the memories of summer’s warmth.
You will imagine me standing at the edge of the ocean, looking at the clouds above the water, as if they were the beard of God the Father, and the shoreline around me will be vacant.

I have no place more precious than this
but if you happen to find a seashell
put it up to your ear and I promise I will share it with you.

3)

The sun has gone down over the city
The buildings have brightened their smiles with lights to accentuate the skyline.
It’s late on the Island of Manhattan
I could be sleeping …..but of course….. I’m not

My back is towards the Uptown
My face towards the Brooklyn Bridge, and same as when I left this morning,
my heart is probably lying on her side, sleeping, and hopefully dreaming of me.

Mom

It is hard to see the fairness of age. The body changes and the bones ache.
Our vision becomes less than what it was. Our memory fades, or otherwise, blend into inaccurate versions of misremembered facts….

I remember The Old Man never seemed frightened of anything. He wasn’t bothered by the dark. He never minded the cold, or backed away from a challenge, or hard work.
No, the only thing that frightened The Old Man was being old. He was afraid of becoming incapable, or sick.

My mother never Continue reading

Poem

Once we establish heat between us,
there is no place warmer than this:

I imagine you, so often…..
your eyes close as my lips press against yours
Your skin is soft                      Your voice is gentle

I envision you lying on your side
while curling
naked beneath the sheets.
Your eyes twinkle in the candlelight and your smile
represents the remnant of wine at the bottom of your glass.

The way you lay shows anticipation,
and the way
you watch me shows your desire
I like that….

I love these versions of you, which I keep with me
I collect them like photographs and use them in my dreams.
I use them as I imagine how it feel to cruise along your body

…..and explore every inch, every piece, every curve

Forgive me if my jaw clinches.
This only means I want you.
And if I growl, it means I feel like a carnivore,
or a hunter–and you
are my beautiful game.

But do not mistake my dominance
I can be as gentle as I am wild
I could switch from hard and aggressive
to soft and gentle

Once we have established the connection between us –
the possibilities are endless

or

Infinite…..

 

Written during the arctic vortex

Right now, the outside temperature is 5 degrees; the wind is west at 22 mph, and the skies are clear at daybreak.
There is frost on the window in my kitchen, which reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting, and the heat from my furnace makes me wish I could stay home today.

I can hear the heavy Continue reading

Quick Poem

I see you trying to break free
and I am reminded of a winter fly
as it bounces against the cold window
on an otherwise sunny day.

Outside,
the cold would probably end the fly in minutes.
Inside, the sound of buzzing wings
changes tune whenever the fly bounces against the glass.

This is the part that reminds me of you…..
wishing you were on the other side of your reality,
and unaware of the glass between you and your freedom.

After all, the fly does not understand the concept of glass.
But you do.
The fly has no concept of love either.
But you do.

So figuratively,
maybe that’s the glass you hit.
Maybe that’s the barrier that keeps you captive.

It’s not that you’re in love

It’s the worry of who will love you if you leave….

 

quick thought

As usual, I woke early and made my way to the coffee machine, which sits on my stove, and waits for me with a loving blue light. The blue light is a signal; it means all I have to do is place a cartridge in the machine, place a cup beneath the spout, and then I press the button to hear a rumbling, gurgling sound of coffee genius.

The cold weather did not affect my house. And though the windows in my back room tend to be drafty, I felt comfortable in my chair. I sat down in front of my trusty keyboard. Then I Continue reading

Note to a kid like me

I was you once. This is how I know behavior is not an accident…

There has always been a reason behind my madness. There is a reason why I speak and there is a reason behind the things I say.
Always.
The first reason behind my madness was awkwardness; then came confusion, anger, and the inability to express myself.
And that was Continue reading

a memory of a strange girl

It was just before dawn on an early spring morning.
Outside, the cobblestone streets of SoHo glistened beneath the streetlamps after an overnight rain.
As I lit a cigarette, two cabs drove passed me on the corner of Broome and Broadway. I was still in my outfit from the previous night, only I looked Continue reading