hermetic old man

I have begun
waking at three a.m.
again having fallen
fast asleep in my Office.

I realize I could be
that hermetic old man
(more so if burbon and smoke
were applied in libations)
surrounded by my books
and habitual days
but I do love and live
both in my way

and learned that love
comes in many guise
and form
and it is not
so much for you
as it is for me
that I express
these words
oft a poetic morn

having risen
stiff necked and back sore
at least it wasn’t
passed out on the floor
for when I drink
I seek my bed and rise
bright eyed
and wanting more
from life than books
words, dreams,
long naps in the sun.

my brother's ring

It was
my brother’s ring
– heavy – worn –
surely too large
for his small hands
as it is for mine.
I wear it, tape
wrapped ‘round
as to fit my finger.

It is
my rememberance
my worry stone
it is another age,
another time
when I was young
when he was alive
and we were all
apart of that
dysfunction.

It is
my youth – weakness
and anger – before
I grew strong,
but memories
are just that
and thoughts of you
will come one day
without worry
without the need
to actively recall
what I had done.

on contemplating taking a new lover

Friday night I was writing and
the reading of your words intimate
yet of no import and not for me;

speaking in esoteric depth
with m. about transcendence
and bliss so far from his serious
like death views of “in love”;

sending a silent missive to d.
that there should be more
Shakespeare in the world –
desperately, desperately more
knowing he is lost to me,

doubting his reply and move on
having lost something to that lover,
my own rule broke – feeling
something missing perhaps
even the semblance of friendship.

Your laugh and manner like his
yet your own broad smile
and manner draw me to glances;
are young enough not to keep
but old enough not to teach?

two for class

list poem

I got lost

I got lost
that time we met
and I fresh
from parents splitting;
lost
in that heady taste
of flesh consuming, the
newness overshadowing
compatibility of spirit;
lost
upon driving
to your home
to meet the parents,
your directions
- misleading;
lost
on that bridge
when you asked for my hand
("some day" inferred yet I
grasping "soon-now-security").
lost
in my nurturing spirit,
your needs and pursuits place
well ahead of mine;
and lost
in "I am married now,
this is the life I lead, decisions
I must answer to;

Yet finally found in thoughts
and strengths that lead to growth
and the learning to breathe.



association poem

Yggdrasil

In the spring, my youth, affinity for need held fast
for the leaves and roots, the tree symbolic.
Even as harsh my mother's voice decried
her pet name for me – Raintree, Tree –
of which I shied and flinched, my heart fair parched
took seed in the mire of strength.
And on the brink of spring to summer set some
ubiquitous thing as yet implored
so turned I to it, face to the breeze, explored;

There along the trail somewhere in Belize
two young lovers stopped to touch the trees.
This one, the bark medicinal and
this one the chicle' to make gum,
and this one with tiny peppers the guide
grasped as fast we passed.
Yes, you recall, that one when you, the man,
followed his lead and I, laughing full
as the guide replied, "habinero?"

So long I thought I found some strength in you,
the firming of roots, attempt at fruits.
Yet they were visions lost in rings of years'
commitments to roots of rot.

Even so, in my late summer lost, chi too wet
with no direction, I turned to climb
nine levels of Norse hell to heaven
Yggdrasil to my back, inked and sore
the tree steadfast onward I conquer.

august is burning me

Saturday, August 19, 2006

just a man, not a god

I want to live in the mouth
of madness swimming
in visions of sky blue eyes
and laughter lit on literature
and pixie dust. I want that.

I want to sooth away old
sorcerer's spells from the brow
of Bacchus - self proclaimed -
that born again he is realized
as Ra, of whom I see and yet

of Bacchus do I smile sweet,
just a man, not a god.

I watch the men -
I watch the men - I want one -
like candy in the machine
that took my money.

It takes me so long
to pick something out.
So mouth watering
I press my shoulder into it.

SLAM SLAM SLAM!
I give it my best hockey block then
one last open handed SMACK,
loud, echoing down the hall.
I sigh, lean into it and walk away.


sunrise

I watched the sun come up
after days of rising, dressing
in an autonomic state

reaching inside my blouse
searching, yes okay, bra,
okay, remembered that.

Where is my mind but on you
and those late evenings
of wine and talking close

those mornings waking
to your feet in my bed,
your arches and ankles soft

my recent admittance that
in hindsight I think I fell.



Sunday, August 13, 2006

I tried but he

I wanted to
fall for you
I tried but

he made away
unbeknownst,
with my heart

like gum
on the bottom
of his shoe.



Saturday, August 12, 2006

mac and cheese

when you're a vegetarian
a box of macaroni and cheese
is a single serving, not four.



Friday, August 11, 2006

hot white light

I lost my heart, given

in the sun once blindly
while unabashed, coming
undone, becoming
unconditional, free
flowing with the burn;

buried in hot
concrete, immersed fully
of a hot white light
that was he, catalyst
toward setting me free.

He was a gentle peace
found finally within and
the choice to never
love like this again yet
always burn bright.



Wednesday, August 09, 2006

yesterday...a poem

yesterday
we were
young
too young yet
growth
takes many
forms
and we did
grow.

(yesterday would have been...19 years with the same man. he left a beautiful - albeit anonymous - note on my blogger.)



Monday, August 07, 2006

vie

je comprend
un petite peux
mais je suis

indefatigable.


limbo

I wasnt really
this for him
(that for you);

you know its
the taking so long
the hangin on

that hurts me.

Come to me
or let me go.



Saturday, August 05, 2006

as it should be

new ears
new eyes, new place
is there money enough?
getting that credit good
nine hours this semester
am I smart enough?
or rather motivated...

enough

low on food budget
cause of the new ink
I like it
love it
it feels feverish
flushed, healing my chi.

still not wanting to date
or hookup
or flirt (though
I like flirting
with the boys I got.
the ones don't hit on me
and I think of d. now and
again then smile.)
summer cold?
or is it the tat?
sleepy, snotty and

all is right with the world
feels as it should be.


at home in the ocean

I was just remembering Vieques,
mimis along the tree line.
That endless beach with little shore
strewn with starfish. Wanting
to toss them back so they wouldn't die
knowing I couldn't. That's just nature.

How I squealed at the sea cucumber.
The ocean, warm meeting sky
in the distance, seemingly one
so blue my heart stopped
in the breeze as I turned, face toward it
like fingers caressing my cheak.

There is something about Texas
this summer that is almost coastal
reminding me of Vieques,
of Belize. Remember the last few days
on that cay? Where were so young
so broke. Most meals were black beans
tortillas and a dollar�' worth of coffee
in a large thermos. I remember.
I remember little strife between us.
Little, but there, always there.

I've been thinking of grad school
out in cali and of the Universidad
in Puerto Rico. Just thinking
and remembering the beaches,
the good times there and my chi
at peace, at home in the ocean.