anything but

how long do you think we'll last ? six months ?
I smile and do not respond to gypsy musings 
for gypsies dance and frolick and she too free to do anything but

and I too slow too late to do anything but

write

write about her musings that were not musings
write about the gypsy who wants a home
write about the home that wants a gypsy
write about my musings that were her musings that were not mere musings

Pebble

I speak of this Rock
I speak of Sanctity and Dignity
And I wait

Yet Pebbles
They roll to my feet
Pebbles that could snowball into the Rock

An auburn Pebble
Brownish red, dusky like the dusty Earth
Differentiates herself with a Shine so bright
Her peaceful nature calming my Soul
Her edges smoothed by the rough of Time

A black Pebble
Dullish dark, opaque like the Black Sea
Differentiates herself with a Mind so bright
Her fairy nature fluttering my Heart
Her angles balanced by the change of Place

I yearned to shove each Pebble deep in my pocket
Instead I juggle each Pebble on stiff Papyrus
They roll on a thick stack of paper hard discipline
I let slip each Pebble from half wanting hands

I harbor each Pebble as the Rock
I harbor Sanctity and Dignity
And I wait

Your Saggy Ass

I played it all night, cool and easy and light
Not because I naturally can
But because you speak truth
So of course I lied
To get close to you
And our words got so close

I spun on barstools, words and roles and tricks
Yes because I naturally do
But I did not move with truth
So of course you knew
To call me out
And I called you towards me

You kept my lies in mind
Not because you minded
But because you recognized truth
So of course you moved
To get close to me
And our words got too close

You showed your faults in the morning light
Not because you wanted to
But because you would not hide truth
So of course I did not move
To keep you close
And I moved only to follow at the crease of your faults

That morning I followed you

This night I follow you

Like truth follows lies

Reorganizing

two and a half months before salvation
my muscles tear against each bone as I wait
distract the brain replacing deadwood with dead weights
salvation to enjoy their happy wrinkled faces
salvation to enjoy softness and extend softness

ten years old but I sought salvation
my lungs pierced by pain but I wait
run along pavement replacing one hurt with another
salvation to hear them recognize the wonder that is me
salvation to hear my own voice over theirs

ten months ago I found salvation
the repertoire of my soul reorganizing and I did not wait
debate oblivious hours placing awe with lust
salvation to revive a trueness of character and a romanticism of heart 
salvation to know my soft voice from theirs 

alongside hers

11.20.11

Five months six souls
But you're still laughing to my song

You come and you go
But you're still whimpering dearly in my arms

You go and you come

But you're still putting me in my spot

You chitter and you chatter

But you're still waiting for this touch

You chatter and you chitter

But we're still making love
Five months six souls

They come 

They go

But we

We are still making love

and somewhere out there, 
my muse continues to make magic, 
glibly and effortlessly, 
as she does in here.

Agami Karma

I.

On my back,
Let the scapulas meet,

Meet the mat as well.

Squeeze belly flat into spine,

Bend knees with feet planted,

Hands and arms flat against sides

Straighten adductors and lift,

Lift pelvis into the sky,

She says "Yes, beautiful, and hold and breathe.."

A well-done class,

Echoed with Namastes.

II.

On my back,
Let the scapulas meet,

Meet the bed as well.

Squeeze belly flat into spine,

Bend knees with feet planted,

Hands and arms grip sheets,

Straighten adductors and lift,

Lift pelvis into her eyes,

She says "Yes, beautiful, your back, your ass, your.."

A well-tossed salad,

Dressed with caresses.

milk 'n acid

You carelessly poured a can of coconut milk into two glasses

Let it dance with OJ and scotch

I looked at the concoction about to protest

You replaced my shirt with your lips

The milk settled from the acid

Untouched.

Won 1st Place for Poetry The New Physician Creative Arts Contest 2012
Published in The New Physician Summer 2012 Edition

murderers and sirens

Straight golden blond hair, she hungrily steals my lips with hers,

I let her own them,

My white flag billows with each strand of her scent,

Sirens to my Olfaction.

Long jet-black hair, she walks up an inch away, asks ‘What’s up?’

I turn to her,

Accidental intruder in her palace of fragrance,

Reeks of a Queen.

Wavy chestnut brown hair, she platonically comes in for a hug,

I make it quick and painless,

God forbid I catch a whiff of her poison,

Ether of the Soul.

Curly off-black hair, she travels the contours of my belly with her mouth,

I let her hair loose,

Fission burst of gamma rays zinging like anthrax spores,

Perfume of a Murderer.


Originally written 2.11.12

Eyes Bigger Than My Stomach

I wish my bright eyes

Never see you again in
This life is too short to
Properly tend to your beauty for
It is disrespectful to have eyes bigger than
Your stomach I caressed one night with
My cheek housing an apparatus evolved to
Nibble off and swallow deep small bites of
You whom I want to consume across
An infinity of lifetimes

Not want to
Not rather
Not prefer
Not even for greedy and selfish affection 
But my only possible ability
But my only able possibility

For
To make you my fulltime job
A fact I cannot escape
I would lose myself
To you
Too willingly

Edited 9.30.12

Funny But Not in a Bad Way

Now who is going to say in a hushed voice that my back and ass are amazing,

Or follow my eyebrow with her index finger,

Or say, almost to herself, how she loves my unruly black hair,

As it falls embracingly over her wondrous face, 

Or tickle, clutch, exclaim! at my "Little ribs!"

Now who is going to laugh in such a way

That I cannot tell if she is laughing with me or at me,

While telling me I am "Funny"

For kissing, and then again, the tip of her pointy nose.

Pausing to add 

"But not in a bad way"

Stamping dead

Weeds of insecurity.

Now who is going to present ingenious little solutions,

Such as kissing with our eyes open,

To everyday issues like..

Oh this eye-shutting business automated into the smooching lip,

Evil, to steal her from my view.

Now who is going to

Tell me

I am funny

But

Not in a bad way.

Edited version published in The Connective Tissue 2012 Vol V