born from the brilliant blue
   of northern skies
it found a way
   through shiny eyes
straight to my heart

an instant passion grew
unfolded into years
   of anxious virtual meetings
times spent in harmony
as well as strife, support, and care

days of wild ecstasy
   followed despair and alienation
closeness and distance
   took their turns
and more than once
what was to be the final cut
grew back to bloom again

over the years
love has grown more sedate
but not less tense
   at times perhaps more painful

but still as true
as on that day
when in the sun of northern skies
it found its way
   through brilliant eyes
straight to my heart

          * *

Morality isolates and fenders bend.
Circumference learns, “half-way” but fails to take the name
“Radius,”
And when she lay a meter nigh
With child, my child;
I still and will feel horribly alone.

Curse my iron fist and rusts the middle knuckle,
When another weeps, not for I, not for you but the gods assumed,
“Heaven,”
And 3 floors above my own;
Tucked lies the pain, regret fills fetal;
I still and will feel horribly alone.

So comes the autumn, the fire prior, “Styx,”
Upon borders that could only separate, “fatherhood,” so partitioned,
“Winter,”
And 3 floors below her own –
A pillar wrought persistence and abandoned, my hedonism;
I still and will feel horribly alone.

The title will not come
But the words flow fast
Stanzas breeze by
Poems progress
Short stories
Are written
As if I’m possessed
Prodigious outpouring
As if I am being chased by death
But the perfect unifying theme
Does not present itself
The art will not find its name
The work is left untitled
But it is finished all the same

In the web of fate lives a spider,
An eight legged dancer,
Stepping to the rhythm of life,
Every twirl sends a shimmer,
Every leap a shudder,
Shaking,
Shivering,
Always in motion,
And so the web is woven.

Cold medicine
Is it a sin
To take more than they recommend?
Once they go in
I'll forget where I've been
My head will begin to spin