When Worlds Collide

There is an aspect of your essence
which draws me to you instinctively.
A sequence in my DNA which
becomes all too clear in the vacuum
of my present space.
Engulfed in the exotic atmosphere,
your gravity will influence my trajectory:
Moving me only fast enough to circle,
too lazily to ever break free.
I harbor no affinity for the icy
independence of an asteroid. 
But it seems I've been an eternal satellite
This familiar dance
which I perform so well.
Facilitating the phases;
presiding over the tides;
Always facing the central sphere
as she encompasses my horizons.

Just once, before the invisible
threads of the universe unravel
and I am cast off
to disintegrate in the void,
I want to know how it might feel
to be the Planet.


[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.] 

When you haven't the longing any longer

Do I have the 'je ne sais qua'
your senses require?
The chemical intensity
to ease your frantic fire?
I'd be the eager pup
responding at the first
to simply quench your thirst.
Just a stop gap; tap-tap,
are you still up?
You never have to rattle 'round
letting the darkness surround you.
You don't need to raffle off
your body and soul forever.
I'm pleased to simply be around you.
And then go away
at the break of another day,
when you're feeling that much stronger.
If you haven't the longing
any longer.
There's a difference,
I know in the description
between first aid and  prescription;
Between an occasional tick
and long term addiction.
I'll gladly put my arm around you,
and then 'come what may'
at the break of the new day
when you are that much stronger.
When you haven't the longing
any longer.
Call me a door mat? That's that.
are you so sure?
You have the right to call it what you like
I think I'll think of it as a cure.

And at the breaking of  the day
I will go away
If the need goes faint
instead of stronger;
if you haven't the longing
any longer.


[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.] 

blues and grey areas

I tell myself don't write
letters I can not send.
She's not in the market
for servants or slaves.
I don't even know what
she might want in a friend.
It would take alchemy
to make something of this
that will never be.
So I have to help
my hapless heart behave.
I have no place to speculate:
One can't caress treasure
encased in glass.
So my emotions must be
stillborn and sedate.
Yet the soul will be quenched,
I believe, by and by,
even when rain
that falls from the sky
is swallowed by the soil
while the lips remain dry.


[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.] 

good soldier

You enlisted
my loyalties and
I believed we
would serve seamlessly,
indentured to fight
at the same front;
disciplined to obey and
protect each other's skin.
When did you receive
a change in orders?
Was I out keeping watch
against primal threats
from the dark
of some deserted post?

When the end arrives
and I am blown apart
by friendly fire
I will have seen it coming
and I will perish
at your pleasure
like a good soldier.


[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.] 

Daisy (She Loves Me Not)

You summoned me to your gate
and said come in, but not too far.
You asked me for my blessings,
accompanied on guitar.
Caught a glimpse of who you want to be
but you don't know who you are.

Daisy, Daisy it's terribly sad, but true
You're half crazy but
I could easily fall in love with you.
Each time we're together
I feel more alone
Must be a bit like trying to get
love out of a stone.

Said you read all about my tribe
in a quarterly magazine:
A race of men who should only be heard,
and rarely, or never seen.
A mixture would yield a headier brew
but you can't have your beef cake
and converse with him, too.

Another day, another 24 hours;
another sunrise and sunset
lining up to break through.
Another 'been there, done that'
while I think about seeing you.
Another batch of bright brochures
painting April rain;
moon lit cruises and Eiffel Towers.
Impossible dreams to share
with someone who isn't there.

Daisy, Daisy. Sad but still true.
It's totally crazy I know, I know
but now it's me, crazy for you.
But each time we're together
I'm left on my own
I'd be better off trying to squeeze
love from a stone.

[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.] 

hazel eyes

Hazel eyes.
your brows
and lashes thinned
by controlled burn from
so deep within
and no amount of tears
will douse the fire
fueled one cell
to another .

No answers in the
back of this book.
Hazel eyes skip
to the last chapter
but the puzzles
remain unsolved.

Hazel eyes see
her safe little house
shrink from view
for the last time
driving away.
It's the week leading
up to Christmas day
But no presents wait
for hazel eyes to unwrap.

Sleep until New Years
sleep until Spring
sleep until the
ending of everything
when I will wake you once
that I may see your hazel eyes

random letters cut from newspaper

A ransom note
is written on my face
I can read it
in the mirror, backwards,
and It states, "If you can see this,
demands must be met,"
and then,"or else."
but only in so many words.

It scares the shit out of me

As if a device is
hugging me
beneath my shirt;
strapped around my chest
with a singular objective
and, at my emptiest,
I understand most clearly
the threat is not.

No one
[Neighbor;
Waitress;
Store cashier;
Even the ones
who look at me]
reacts in any way.
Maybe because they are afraid?
Maybe because they aren't
or know they won't
be taken with me.
As with The Rapture
they will be spared.

Why the note is there
I cannot say.  Only that it would be
comforting if someone noticed.
Or do they see ransom notes
in their own mirrors?



[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.]