A shadow wherein a question is poised.
The light describing existence - a veil,
The clang of life - the sounding of a bell,
Echoing briefly in greater silence.
How did you do this magic trick,
How you so touched and wakened me,
That when I think of your blue eyes
I see the endless starry skies.
Of your ineffable giving
Wonder - an actors' performance,
A singer singing a song, playing
All your heart to all around.
My dear, I know, I do it too,
With pen and paper, in a poem.
We've the gift of giving ourselves,
In spite of ourselves sometimes.
Shadow regrets flying in your face,
Ancient fears stirring it up in there.
I'm taking no shit, enough of this,
You're testy, on edge, tend to shout.
The demons are dancing now, my dear.
I toss at night with something unclear,
Sweat, cry, crack, tussle, and moan.
You can't sleep, too hot, you've got an itch,
Something is knocking around your head.
The demons are dancing now, my dear.
Got you by the throat, twist an arm,
Lay a low one in your gut, bend you.
Take a breath, take heart and purpose,
Hold on, we are going to win this.
The demons are dancing now, my dear,
Easy now, one on one, we'll take them,
Clear as day, clear as a bell, in time.
Sailing the deep blue dream,
Singing last liberty,
Only indigo dream.
No earthly care and toil
To grind me to the ground.
Only a ship, the sea
And me, my companion
The wind, and endless sky,
Bound for no port or home.
Sailing the deep blue dream,
Singing last liberty,
Alone indigo dream.
No more loving for me,
Too many times my heart
Broken, love left behind.
My mistress is the sea,
Carried upon her waves,
My vessel on her breast.
Sailing the deep blue dream,
Singing last liberty,
Lonely indigo dream.
Down and out survivor,
Long had I resisted.
Peace then a distant dream
Only, a surrender
Denied, longed for, the blue
Sea of serene release.
Sailing the deep blue dream,
Before me on an orange throne,
His nobility worn and scarred,
Was one with the riches I sought.
I followed him through depravity,
In equilibrium fell not.
I followed him through violence,
Learned to strike, and to roll it off
As beating rain rolls off a leaf.
I followed him through sorrow's pain,
Broke my heart again and again.
Still I followed, through endless nights,
And through despicable ruin.
He spoke of his freedom attained
In prison; it's trace shining through
The walls and bars he keeps within,
Saw his mortal contradiction.
All that he scattered I gathered
Along the tortuous route.
I was unable to convince him,
He is still there, in argument.
Now I've my riches, my freedom.
Remember the hill and forest, when young –
The green, the nightingale, colored perfumes,
Your native sky, your realm, not to be touched.
Come to me, battle-scarred and weary one.
Lay down your weapons, remove your armor,
Let me touch you - a breeze rustles the leaves.
Take my hand, adventure in the perfect
Wilderness of your hill, copse, thicket and
Sun struck clearings, take me to your refuge.
Battle-worn and lonely warrior, closer,
Lay down your arms and take me, take me there.
Breathe the green, the colored perfumes, taste peace
Sweet as spring water, the nightingale sings.
Taking the sun like a convalescent
Walk myself along the cliff, high above
The glittering sea, thundering surf.
So calm, so quiet, an eternal smile,
I'm perfectly alright. A broken heart
On the mend, patient and distracted.
I'll enjoy the sunset, admire the moon,
My brave recovery, in agony.
Pressing a question against the future
Wondering, as I always do, what will be;
What we will cook tonight,
Then, will you be awake when I get up,
Your eyes lit from the night, in the morning light.
Our days stretch, tumble, disordered, humored.
And I press a question again, again
Silently, in the quiet garnered from
The edges of our time spent together.
Through a long narrow window I look out,
Particularly when there's fading gold.
I am looking for the future to come
In from the withdrawing day.
Tonight you will be awake while I sleep
In bed struggling with the empty side.
Along with our morning coffee I garner
Touches, breathe loving looks over you, let
Desire sigh for one moment, pass over,
To this or that, pass the time, and wonder.
I'm always wondering, you know, silently,
Pressing a question against the future.
Would you give me a rose,
Let it be a white rose,
No red roses for me.
A simple white rose,
No American Beauty.
Of gracious bowing branch,
Of tender petals few,
Of truer sweeter scent,
A simple white rose.
I prefer the iris,
Though, over any rose.
Iris leaves are keen blades,
Clasping a proud straight stem,
High held each spear point bud
Unfurling blooms in turn
Of elegant panache,
A flower for a queen;
Thoughts flourish sentiment.
Sailing the ocean of the night,
Through storms of strange dreams holding course.
My arm clasped about you, drift then
Tack, close haul, reduce sail, pull in
Your back to me, my belly
To your butt, my leg laid over yours,
At stern the caress of a foot.
Your arm thrown back along my side,
Momentary thrust of a hip,
Then you shift, sleeping face to me,
Trim the hull, point of sail to broad,
Arms folded up against your chest.
My hand on the dip of your waist,
Arm draped cross the lull between us.
Thigh upon thigh, knee bent between,
Reaching, trim the sails to the wind,
Your arm around me, bring me in,
Sailing a troubled sea of sleep.
One more drink, and one more cigarette;
One more, and one more thing to say.
One more day, and one more night like this,
Always one more, you say, and more;
A tiger pacing in a cage,
One more pass inside the bars, and
Turning, pacing, pace, pass again.
Again the same story, with no end,
One more drink, one more cigarette,
One more, and one more thing to say.
One more day, one more night like this,
A life spent, imprisoned, in bars,
One more drink, one more cigarette.
Trembling little prayer, of hopeful light.
A wink in your black night, you ancient soul.
When you draw the dark around you, lonely,
Seeing what you have left, just a hard street,
Wherever you are, may a ray reach you.
You said, 'have a good life,' I wish it
For you as well for I, as I let go
A little prayer, hopeful light hanging,
A trembling little star in the heavens.
[after Emily Dickenson]
My heart was lost to me, hidden
Away in a box, perhaps deep
Down under the sea, maybe left
Forgotten in some sad old house
In a corner or a cupboard.
So forgotten I didn't know
It wasn't there; just messages
And the pull of desperation...
Had I given it to Death, then,
That dark romantic seducer?
Wandering, for what not knowing,
Some distant voice, a reflection.
Then through a simple miracle
As may happen every day,
Like the sunrise, like coming home,
I found my heart, passion and song.