Back To Back

“You may not remember the time you let me go first.
Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn’t that far to go.
Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up.
You may not remember any of those, but I do and this is what I have to say to you:

Today, no matter what it takes,
we ride home together.”
Brian Andreas, Traveling Light: Stories & Drawings for a Quiet Mind

 

weheartit
Back to back that’s how we started,
fighting the whole world, we never parted.
Then came new life, shafts in the quiver.
We fired them off, our crops never withered.
Along came the wolf, death he swore.
He limped and lied to get through the door.
He consumed you with his intellectual abandon,
my back now unguarded, my heart saddened.
I tried for months to retake the hallowed ground,
but you were too far gone, never to be found.
Lost and spinning, exposing my nakedness,
I struggled grimacing, my life hard pressed
Then I saw her, evil disguised as purity.
Face of an angel, a heart that wasn’t free.
I came to her with my intentions pure,
she cast one glance, it was over for sure
All the passion I wished you to use,
now you found it, she was your muse
I drove on, looking at you secretly,
asking me to stay, your nakedness I see
To late, like fire spreading on water,
she flowed freely, around all your barter
Driving on into my own peril,
she would slay me with just one arrow
Entranced by her wiles, I followed her to hell,
but my back not guarded, I swiftly fell.
Barely I survived, held under the water of pain,
my lungs bursting to breath love again
Fire scorched and burned through all my nerves,
it never went out, smoldering in the curves
Struggling to gain ground, to get back to back again,
Back to back one day, I long for my friend.

Also published in Broowaha
08072010
 
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I Love Beautiful Dark Things – Not all things dark are evil

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” Mary Oliver
afanador
I love beautiful dark things,
that bring shadow to your life,
making things come alive,
with depth and mystery.
These beautiful dark things
are what’s between bright and nothing,
a hope of a world beyond extremes.
 
I love beautiful dark things,
without which you’re two dimensional.
Lost on the page of life.
I bring direction with my beautiful dark things,
They show you where the light is,
the subtlety of life,
bringing texture from flat canvas.
 
I love beautiful dark things,
Not all that’s dark is contrary to light.
I’m wherever light is found,
I’m the coolness in the heat,
I’m the protection on the run.
Beautiful dark things are
mysteries of things to come,
A shroud to cover your soul.
 
I love beautiful dark things…
 Also published in Broowaha
09022011

Have you ever felt it? – Simple things, simply love

 “The road to finding ‘the one’ is paved with a bit of promiscuity.” – Ryan Erickson

redbubble
Have you ever felt it?
I spent hours taking the little sunburned petals from your skin,
removing them ever so carefully, tenderly,
utterly in heaven, a heaven which surely,
the birds are familiar…
Have you ever felt it?
I lose myself in thoughts of you, and me, together
in a slow dance that walks us through the gates of fantasy
all our senses lost in the moment, hearts racing,
minds panting to keep up.
Have you ever felt it?
Bodies moving together, souls floating,
passion shared, in the heat forming a bond
that can never be broken, though you my lover
are very, very far away.
Have you ever felt it?

11192011

 

Albatross

“There is love of course. And then there’s life, its enemy.” Jean Anouilh

albatross

Fingers brush through your hair 
your leaving me there,
Floating on my ocean dream.
Feet run to your kiss, I say farewell to bliss, 
Crashing along the windy cliff.
Eyes transfixed on your stare,
of you I must beware, 
Chasing me on the rocky edge.
Mind searching for a hint,
your affection leaves no imprint, 
Leaping off to fall free.
An albatross on a long flight,
a blind journey with no insight, 
Asking “Where will I land?”

Also published in Broowaha 

Also published in Wingposse, June 2012 

12202011 

Curious

“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”
Banksy

Premonitions
                              Premonitions

Some say they’ve went there, to the other side.

That’s what they’ll tell you after they died.

The tickers kick’n and soon I’ll know

Whether this day I’m livin’ is my day to go

What do you do on the way out the door

When what you see, you’ll see no more

About these things I’m curious to ask

tripping the other side of the living mask

So my friends and lovers dear

who I hold both now and there

On the other side will you come with me

and find out what’s beyond that nether sea?

Darling

“The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 

Fresh-mind-fresh-day
                  Fresh-mind-fresh-day

Never was a gentle and quiet word
spoken but so clearly heard

Innocent as the new day
echoing across a souls pain

Whispering she is vulnerable
that was the angelic guise so

Eloquently draped with a voice
surrendering I had no choice

Her tender call seducing me
in a moment she had all I’d be

It made me feel amazingly alive
She the moon and I the tide

Even now in this dreary day
tenderly I can hear her say

Darling, Darling

*

First published in Opinions Of Eye

Waiting’s Close Lover When –

Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.”  – Rainer Maria Rilke
“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.” – Paulo Coelho
Dressing myself with Waiting’s robes
looking in the mirror at When
Finding thoughts that without warning
haunt and scare my lonely Then
Question the mistress Waiting, again
to the end of never, When?
Waiting she dances, holding me close
and calling her lover Then
Her music of chance and sultry moves
under the covers of patient When
A cruel lover Waiting plays with me
as I grow old with desire Then
Teasing from me my passing youth
called Waiting’s close lover When
First Published in Opinions of Eye
01182013