Weight back, son, back -- now!* Pivoting in air, I felt wood crack
and sent one screaming over first. My three mates whirled
around the sacks and fierce joy burst past, or through...
First inning, Father. Bags full. And all for you,
who, miles off, listened hard beneath a static sky.
The radio crowed: "Grand slam!" -- and "You'll be next to die."

Once, you showed me something about the stance,
how the weight came through, and how the dance
of foot in dirt was beautiful and clean --
I don't recall the point -- not now, I mean.
But I still can see your hands, the coiled way
they worked the wood, and how your wrists turned,
mirrored snakes, twin roots, and how the simple day
was shaken by... what was it?... by all I'd never learned?
Your fingers were stubby, grimed with grease, coarse hairs
tangled over bulge of blood. My youth still fares
its way from lost to lost. I move my dancing feet
to match the steps you traced with yours -- and life's complete.

Yet as I gape and gasp in desperate dark,
a voice returns, riding warm winds from that park.
These forty years, I've been turning into you.
I have your hands, your heart -- and these will fail me too.

I would like to believe
we are all connected, a
mobile massive
pile of flesh mixed
in some bone juice
& ash, contributing
as something larger
then self, living with
each other, as one another,
firing pistons of thought
engines cooling by our
own single breath into
infinity of some end
never having to realize
what's right with wrong
just living as this
one.

But I remember I
operate in this separate
body walking on two
feet swimming through
turbulent sea's of me's
myself and greed,
this lust of more
powered by this ever-
going combustion of
competition one upping
to succeed with money
running through veins
clogged in violence,
forgetting the you
within all this
misery, we swallow
to be our anti-
depressants because
we sweat **** to
feed children we
teach to fight is
to attain, something,
search for something
I remember how I
search, how I search
how I seek, fueled
by this insatiable
hunger for this some-
thing more I can't
seem to find with this
need to feel complete,
this urge to fill this
"void gnawing at my
left lung" telling me,
reminding me I am
separate & will always
be, until I noticed
breath.

Invisible, heavy on
my weighed down
shoulders, colored
clear like wind, I
saw the element we
all breath in fire
that pulsates
as though I were
turned on, I was
turned on
to this liquid fire
rushing into the void
'nom nomming
on my left lung', as
I began to understand
the magnetic connection
of my beating lifeline,
reminding me what
was always known
was always believed,
somewhere in marrow
next to white blood
cells & hope, that
cliche one word
love

that connects us
to god to the
whatever's & what if's
to the me to the
you, with dust
in my right eye
the gap between your
tooth where eternal
wisdom is stored
because non judge-
ment wiggles through
toes like mud oozing
in the cracks of clenched
fists, that I am you
that I am, that it
is & will be & has
& continues on & on
& on & on

before

einstein or dinosaurs
there was an atom, made
of tiny parts composed
of smaller pieces held
together by space, found
bounding stars as we
squint attempting our
attempts to stare at
the sun because what
we forgot is the
I am & the I can,
the we are change
so we choose which
way our lips point
which way our sight
see's, by releasing the
old never were me's
& embracing this
new philosophy who
watched grains become
planets & god's born
into children who
work together as
one to become one

with words like
love, compassion &
kindness, with words
like love, compassion
& kindness with words
like love, compassion
& kindness with words
like thoughts becoming
our realities, no matter
what we believe or
think or thought, that
we hold the power of
god, the fist of judge-
ment we release to
grab on to words
like love, compassion
& kindness because
today I choose to
love, to be compassionate,
to spread kindness
with action of this
space that holds together
our veins, which were
only taught to pump
money, to encourage
greed & this lust of
violence where we
fight wars on oil
wars on drugs
wars on poverty
on hunger on
depression, ADHD
bipolarism economy,
we fight wars for
Peace.

We **** in
the name of justice
the name of god
of love

The stars
shine bright the non-
physical of hope
for something more, that
something more we're
searching for, look up
to realize what we are
taught, were taught
may not all be right,
that maybe my ribcage
wants to explode with
empathy for my fellow
man & follow him to
this promised land where
we can grow in the sorrows
of our joys because "even
the clouds weep in cele-
bration" 'when the answer
to everything right is
me',
is you,
is us,
if we choose

if

we choose, maybe there was
no void, maybe it was all a
story created by our minds

the pulse in my wrist controls
my world, now I ask you
does yours?

The moon is a charring ember
Dying into the dark;
Off in the crouching mountains
Coyotes bark.

The stars are heavy in heaven,
Too great for the sky to hold —
What if they fell and shattered
The earth with gold?

No lights are over the mesa,
The wind is hard and wild,
I stand at the darkened window
And cry like a child.

Do you remember when there was no such thing as time and we were all that were? Sitting, laying, touching, laughing, and loving one another in-between my life and yours. Your life, your family and your home; years that defined you, people who loved you and a refuge from humanity and all that was false in your eyes, your dark lovely eyes. And mine, stability built up from a cliffs edge, devotion and love- caring for blood that defined what home was to me; no walls or place. Moments and feelings that I treasure and recall are what we have, and I find that they are not enough to fill the days without you...

you had birds in your mouth and sunlight dripping from your eyelashes.
i promised i wouldn't speak if you wouldn't change faces twice an hour.
we made conversation under a tree and sleep-walked through your kitchen.
i couldn't stare for your poetry disguised as fingers, always moved your hands.

i opened your window and slid to the street, took a walk with the recycling.
my hands looked tired the next morning, and you wouldn't take no.
when the lights fell asleep, we ran for the boats and slipped into the water.
the moon smiled and pulled us apart, i never matched your shoes again.

saturday feels like tomorrow
already?
already.

i told too many stories in one sitting
and now my fingers are moving in circles and changing
colors. (because of this, I can't make it to your birthday
party)(can you believe the excuses I am making?)
i will be speechless
already

once someone hears something they shouldn't have
we will turn off the fan to avoid further mess
and keep our eyes shut so that we don't see what
we've done.
melting like butter, quickly
when put on too much heat but always,  always tasting delicious

I will try and keep my mouth shut after this last meal.

the steel on steel clank
of a canal lock gating
is a lonely sound to hear,
and so too your parting words,
though wise, gentle and reassuring,
it is our channel that's closing
and I do whelm - what feels like tears.