You were always afraid
your heart filled with pause
and your eyes touched by ghosts.
But,
your back stayed
soft
strong.
muzzle filled with wisdom
ears full of silk.

Tail like a river
heart like a soldier
eyes like wet stone.

Sleep now, Easy.
with the scent of honey
And guard the threshold
of the world beyond.

Green for healing
unexpected glee
for the code words of couples

Hazel for quiet
for still moments
long fingers and outlines

Deep jade
rich rings for an iris
fringed veil and flash of white

Darker when
they see me
nearing our bed

Empty, for when
I left it,
turning quick on my heel

because I stopped seeing
what his
did.

'think what
you want to say

wait, til
you can say it right.'

so-
I
remember the exact wording
half asleep
around midnight

come 6am
more brilliant
in the blur
of something that

is not retrievable.

all the ones I forget

are covered in gold.

then it would seem-
I do my best writing in dreams.

Love is a whip
and life but
a flogged target
plump cheeks rosy with
regret
Anticipation
and defiance.

fate is the grease-
and the fire

And we are feeble
wicks
thus, as the candle flame
falters and spits-

I grow afraid.

when I go
I will pull the shades down
fill the moat
with the requisite
piranhas
I will put on my
Alone
stare
and cup our little
glowing moth
in my palm
and whisper
to it
whenever
I'm sad.

today I severed the kite string
so I could
instead,
tattoo it into my heart.

when I take the xray
there it will
be.
I promise. The metal line
or silken tie, (whichever you prefer)
will lie there
on the light board

I will put it in the sky
or in a field
on a bus
I will show everyone

We will see it from space.
and when you close your eyes
I will dance with you
in my mind.

no matter where
no matter when
no matter how long
because our threads
are that strong.

I see you in myself
in the way that your bones
are completely different and
the same as mine

I make your mistakes
in my future
and I made your decisions
in the past

and where you are the opposite
we are the same
uneven twins
upside down we are matched
mirrored and shaken in our
own steps
that even jive.

when we fall.

but are mirrored
in even greater synchronicity,
in endless silver halls
when we win.

I stand
in the sallow light.
shoes of Passed Days
upon my feet.

the knife of someone
Else's survival
clutched in
my hand.

wondering as I
run...

Will my Will be
enough to...

Get out of
here
Alive?

Too tall to
command the
world in
Napoleonic
fashion-
conclusion-
will
surely result
in some sort
of Complex.

Eat your
words-
when no one
is around to
witness.
devour them
whole.
swallow your
soliloquy.
digest your
righteousness.
descend from
the lofty steed
and See
Spot Run.

Once I held all
the balloon strings
of a few colours,
some shifted, popped
with the wind.
others burst with a shower
of gold
others swirled with translucent
smoke.
but a monstrous gale came,
snagging its claws into my palm
cutting my knuckles with hail
painting my cuticles with frost
and I cried out, bleeding in
the cold and crying,
stepped out of the ring
let loose all the tails
and  so ended
that particular
song.

I don't come here often anymore.
I can't.

I  have grown to loathe the walls.
And the paper has faded,
just like the boards-
scratched, ugly
with flourescent
and no longer soft in
twilight.

I used to love
this place inside.
the notebook cubby of
creativity.
where my pen made
me beautiful.
An ego stretched and bared like
a bathing goddess.

But now I have lost my tongue
unable to translate fabric to
dress
and show my life, standing upright,
in verse.

Lyric hubris.
the Muse taketh away

Poet's curse.

I'm at the
last train station on
the line.

the trains here,
they turn around and
go back
no matter which
track you pick
they're both going
the same direction

I wonder if
I pick the left
train,
whether my ride will be
smoother.

are the seats softer
on the right?

if they go the
same direction,
is it the same
destination?

Parallel
to  converge later
and unite?

perhaps the
one time...

in Time...

that which
fork you take
really doesn't
matter at
all.

so instead of
being a dead end,
maybe it could be
construed as

a Miracle.

Open
Then, shut.

vital *****...
closed for
repairs until

further notice

there's this place
on my arm that goes
"swish"
It's the bit without
nerves where
the metal lies.

if I was bionic
and my heart
were made of steel
I'd be indestructable

but
then I
wouldn't be able
to  feel.

balance
on the line
one foot
step careful
you break
your mother's
back and who
can have that
on their head

walk
forward towards
your toes
follow through
feel your hips
align to
move you

line up
your spine
catch yourself
like a cat

and take
all the arrows
in your shoulder
because everyone
knows that a
proper archer
will
aim to
miss your heart.

as  I walked in white
in the gilded summer night

foot steps following
one heel, one heel
down the street
downtrodden
floating
detached
lost

a call came from
a wind maker on the street
a stirrer of emotions
a sorcerer whose only game
was that of creation

I watched the draw and pull
of the strangers into his
gravitational field

tendrils of invisible allure
wrapping around shoulders
ankles of passersby
as they froze
captivated by his moth-and-spider web
of alien, archaic sound.

in the aftermath
of my escape
from his forcefield

I sat on a bench
carefully attempting
to tuck the edges of my
being back
inside my body

so to join
the rest of the anonymous
collective fleeing
from  the ancient
difficult feelings
he had stirred
from the greater
universal melting ***

no longer recognized
in this
Cold Age of Chrome and LCD screens.

she walks at trouble with her Jugular bared

Into fire because she likes the heat,
the way the flames play and flirt
with her fingers and her bones.

lips tilted around a cigarette
drags in the poisonous kiss
of a ***** cloud,
upturning her palms to strangers
to give them her hands and her ways.

That girl is Brave

diving off every cliff
and caressing the rocks
as she floats down
harmlessly to rest
upon the filmy waves.

but when her little soul
becomes golden at the edges
I hope for her that a hand
will catch her balloon string
and guide her back to earth.

he is four legs
sees the world
by everyone's
knees.
a soft
saliva-coated
existence,
measured in pants.
governed by rough-hewn
kibble
Not sure I
would wish
reincarnation as a
dog.

Love as
an anagram
starts the
word-

Evolution.

a robot
approved my
card.
now paper flies
to the
wind
and I get to-
Live.

Pain Perdu-
that's what they call it
Lost Bread.

Am I, the lone
pastry loaf,
stranded here,
among Raisins?

Hard to say...still.
may I have more
Coffee?

two sugars,
please.

this is
old and salty
torn broken lost.

Page from
your diary?

your list-
a cheque book...
so Important.

but evidently
slipped your hands.

Isn't it all.

By the way...
you're out of milk.

These are my hands
not yours.

You had them on loan
and I
am taking them back.

These were never;
your lips
your heart
your soul

But those were
your words

And now,
You've taken them
back too.

'This is what
it feels like
to fall',
thought Alice.

'I suppose,
when I land
my feet will
hit first.'

'Maybe there
will be a cushion.'

'I shan't
want to
break my
legs.'

I just wanted
to write a poem
that involved the
phrase
"Dive Bar"

already have
the shoes.

time to
buy the
glasses.

step to the
edge
big evergreens
cedars
look strange from
on top
their scent wafts
smelling different
from on top
of a mountain
I know
that when I
fall it
isn't really
falling...
that in my
bed when
I land
my brain slams
back into the
pillow and my
body is safe
beneath the
blankets
but just in
case there
are air sharks
or sharp rocks
when I jump,
I will pinch
my nose.

Stone waits
in the Rain

it will move

just
give it
Time

there's a cat on my arm
she purrs, filling my limbs
with her side by side
love
little nose tickling
my wrist

they see me cry,
you know.
the four footed beings
who watch me fall apart.

it's sometimes good, I think
that they don't speak.
I don't want the pity
of things
with whiskers.

I want to
delete all the mistakes
in my life like
a typewriter
shove in a cartridge
ring of the bell
erased.
wouldn't that
be
so
lovely.

'please,
come home'
they said.

'I already am'
I replied.

'where?'
they asked.

'In my heart.'

quietness with the cats
by my elbow
blue-white computer light
the sound of the cars
out the window
holding me home
sweet air over
my shoulder
everything will
find its way.

and then I will
sleep.

a frenzied
little broken
tornado-
watch me burning
getting wobbly back
on the bike of
verse
I should have
seen that
rock
coming

I need a place
an attic in my head
to go there
sit in the rose
coloured light
the golden hour of
my mind and watch the
willow tree
growing quietly next to
the brick
in the place
I am who I always was a
growing chrysalis
a changeling constant stasis bug
movement beneath crystal
flickers underneath the
ice
but it will be quiet still
and the door will be locked
and I will stay there not
to hide from
myself
but to flee the potential
for crisis
if I don't cross swords with
the inner speed demon
find my zen
and go to the
supermarket.

You love her
in her many
copies.
blue, beige
destroyer, creator.

You hate her
during some
hours away
from sun.
procrastinator
fighter, complainer.

You fear her
the control
you can assert
but can't reign
in. Boycotter
scaredy cat.

You're in her
swimming but drowning.

Your psyche should
not be a
tiger trap.

There should be leaves
and soft earth
not sticks.

As your fears sharpen
them, the pit
will become deeper.

So learn to watch
where you walk
in your veins.
Control your thoughts
your habits
your acts.

Or perish in
your own sea
of troubles
Hamlet's slings,
and arrows will be yours
And let's face it.

You just don't have
that kind of
thick skin.

What will you
do with that gum
on your shoe
It's still
pretty good
mostly new

granted you
may get rabies
******
hep C
but since you
Opted out,
there's more gum
for me.

strangers often see
the most unfortunate parts
of bared hearts
stuffy noses
and baggy eyes.
they don't know
what you thought of
today.
whether breafkast
was toast, or
regret.
so when I
can read someone
Else's face.
like a book
on the second grade
level.
that will be the day
when I become like
prof x
and won't need to
play eye hockey
on the subway
anymore.

Is there anything to be said for being lost
or imperfect?
should we still sip from vessels with flaws?
Am I able to accept that it is I who dropped the glass?
and watch the cracks spiderweb
into the hearts of the people who hold me?
I call foul.
from the bottom of this mud pit
my voice floating...
'Looks like you're going the wrong way, Dorothy.
best to just stop juggling
crystal *****.'

we can't see eye-to-eye
[literally]...
you mirror my smile.
whether it's because
it's like my own
or because we're
peas, I might not know
because
you're a book I
still can't read.

You just can't
compete with
**** Me
boots.

The leather-clad calves
that
whisper "come to bed...
I promise so
many touches"

Cardigans merely dictate
"shoulders maybe...
You  so much as peek
at my
collarbones, and you're
done for,
Mister."

Spoken -
Maybe I would
tease...

"Try only,
to kiss
my cheek
because I'm
on the
boring bus"
(and especially
in your Chamber)

Or so you
would suppose.

But inside this
sweater, I'm
a *Butterfly.

I don't like you
sometimes.
I don't like me
either.
We're the same halves
of different stars
Or is it
the reverse?
I thought
I glimpsed something
in your face.
But no
It was just the
light.
My
Mistake.

Am I a wanderer?
You would think
surmise
muse that
after twenty five
years with
myself I
would know

All I have
determined is
that sometimes
I lay awake
Like an alien
In my own bed
And feel the holes
worn in my feet
by shoes standing
too long
in one place

Maybe that's
my answer
or Maybe it
just scares
me to remain
where the
ground can
keep tabs
on me.

Because if
I do, then
Life can
Catch Up
long enough
to shake her
Finger at
Me til I
Cry.

I sit by myself
My feet fit in the space
behind the rows
my boots feeling
the stick of leftover
pop
residue of someone else's
night out.
when the blue and black
of this giant space
comes up and the
sound invades the air
around my shoulders
I settle
and let the thinness
of fake light
triumphant music
and the emotions
of beautiful
sociopathic creatures
fix and fill
the holes and
crannies in
the road of
my lonesome
soul.

I am stumbling around with all of these souls
palms slapping- 'Good Game, Good Game'.
Like Uno or Memory
My instructions:
Find the matching cakes, flowers or dice...
But...
Being able to target- to heat seek and know
Instantly
that you don't fit with them...
I worry.
A giant misshapen
Puzzle piece in the
Cosmic factory bin
What if God forgot
To make me
A Match?

I need
a new notebook
or to engage
on the phone with
Life and
tell it to
slow down.
I can't write
fast enough
with these
feeble hands.

Sometimes,
I believe I can draw.
Really the
skill,  it sits
in my genes
like a bear.
Only spring
comes so rarely...
when  I have
a pen
and the page
a disguised cave
where my creativity
yawns, looks around
then goes back to sleep.
for another Season.

Oh little thing
beeping on my hip...
where are you?
did you find me,
green slider, and
tentative ring?

even your numbers
shiny 9 and 5
with 1s, zeros
QWERTY...an
entire alphabet
to love.

How is it
that without your
invisible electronic
leash, whispered
messages and
brilliant, **** screen
I would stand on
the street
lost in my own
neighborhoood...
It is the solved mystery
of the 21st Century.

I can measure my life
in lists of things I
meant to do.

The bullets, the stars.
numbers, arrows.
Musts, maybes and
Laters.
All there in
the wobbly print
of my 9 year old
boy scrawl.

If I circled it
did it first,
Will this guarantee a
different fork?
Wil  walk down
my to-do, to
Prosperity
If I accomplished
it all?
or
would I start
a new way
perhaps tattooed on
my arm

would I start , then
cllecting boxes
of regrets?

Every lists is
a promise I pretend
to make for
myself.
my Beautiful
False Paper Trail
for a productive life
assuredly.
not the one
that I lead,
At all.

It's not
strong as
some...but the
taste of a
garden stays on
my tongue.
lips wet
like grass after
rain, the
scent of flowers
leaves my breath-
the *** is empty.
time to join
the life outside.