Words to give, tossed back and forth,

like darts, so fast they roll.

Thoughts to catch and cause a wripple effect,

my brain engaged.. now the game is on!

What would winning look like?  From each vantage point?

Am I that negative – so as to put a silver lining on every dark cloud?

To spin something resembling what I want – out of what is,

even if it’s only a partial synonym or a temporary clause?

Who are you to tell me how to live?  How to make my choices fit?

Indifference.

And yet you get so upset.

What does being a good person have to do with this?

It’s all one choice or another.. every cause has its effect.

Getting hurt is my reward for living my life fully.

But indifference.. that begs a few pointed thoughts.

Indifference is the opposite of love.. it leaves a mark far deeper than any insult or back of the hand can do.

For it is the lack of feelings.. an emptiness that stares you down cold.

It’s nothing at the end of the day.  

It’s a board with pons and plays that still remain in the box.

It’s an excuse for inaction, a hiding place for steps untaken

And ultimately befriends regret, sitting back club in hand,

staring at the open course and not taking a swing.

Where’s the move in bluffing?  Who’s counting the cards?

The deck is stacked and the king of hearts – risen to the top,

only to disappear in sleeves of ambivalency.

It’s hard to move foward when you’re stumbling back into your own retreat.

It’s hard to take it slow when one is not willing to keep moving.

Posted: August 18th, 2008 under my poetry, my thoughts.
Comments: none

He twitches in his sleep, arguing with the sheets,

Fighting demons that hold his keys.

The shame of shame played out in unconscious conversations.

There’s no place for me here, in a crowded bed, things unseen

standing between us.

I kiss his back, but cannot penetrate the steel gates.

How fondly I remember a sleeping world extending from waking days.

Where bodies intertwined and danced the night to unimagined harmonies like puzzle pieces shifting to fit in a hundred different ways.

And here I awake to see the pattern laying before me.

To seek the cannot be loved, who think they don’t deserve it,

Who fight with invisible terrors within them.

What can be done?   With this role to perform?

To chase a sequence of mirages that once held -

slip like water through my outstretched hands,

Chasing ghosts of men only I can see.

Whispers and soft touches with the half there ones that somehow linger

to dance intermitantly with me.

In this bed I wonder, in this quiet to decipher, in my heart I hurt and heal..

Departing.. out of one room and into another..

To embrace.. the words – that ready me to face things unseen,

just before I go down, right before I come up.

For air.  Its the fourth round.

Posted: August 17th, 2008 under my poetry.
Comments: none

Peering at life – brief glimpses of what could be.

The shutter opens and in that captured view – I can see

Everything wonderful, for a moment, before the reflections go into the dark room for processing.

I live for those flashes of light and the taste of what life should hold.

I have grown accustomed to the flicker and the lens closing.

I have adapted to the door that opens and slams shut,

To the life that leads me back to my Self over and over.

I suppose it’s lucky that I like myself enough, and can keep on moving.

But I tire of the train that is endlessly on the same tracks..

Only to enjoy life through windows that pass too quickly –

And the love I hate to leave behind so fast.

Posted: August 6th, 2008 under my poetry.
Comments: none

I try to catch the falling sands..

One night to catch my face in his hands.

Will those eyes light up my smile

Long after the candle has burned down?

I crouch at the feet of fallen admiration.

And continue to extend myself despite my isolation.

There’s nothing I can do to change the currents here

And yet I find myself still in the stream –

Holding with open palm my simple dream.

Why cannot love come and fight for me?

Why is this moment – the only one?

A lighthouse untouchable – an imitation of the sun.

Posted: August 5th, 2008 under my poetry.
Comments: none