His blue eyes are like glacial-lakes, wrapping around his heart till he's chilled to the bone from the cold.
A deadly place where treading is no longer permitted.
His eyes are transparent and distant as the impersonal clouds passing overhead.

Even as I stands before him, reflecting off him.
I am still merely a reflection.

He knows my face, I reason silently.
From the hills of my cheeks, down towards the valley separating my lips.

He should recognize it all.

Instead a blank expression greets me.    
A look of cold, solid insouciance.
I'm immediately angry with myself for wanting to justify his indifference's.

A reflex I've never been able to expel.
The vestigial limb on a skeleton.
A party favor from another time forgotten for the newly discovered toy.

I twist in the fridged winds wrapping around him.
My force giving under the great pressure magnified by his powers.

I never wanted to dance upon his breeze.
This realization makes me burn hotter.
My anger brighter than the northern star.

I welcome it, my amounting rage.
I embraces it with a raging smile.

His glaciers may be cold, immovable at times.
A pretentious notion I might freeze.

For I am the sun swirling in nova's ring and cannot be affected by his black iced personality.

Why, when I know
she doesn't notice me, like me back,
or even realizes I'm a living, breathing being?
Why, when I just end up hurt
as the sun touches lips
with the moon and stars?
Why must I allow little butterflies,
pink purple green yellow red black blue gray,
to flutter inside your stomach?
As if my breakfast this morning
was trying to tell me
something.

I can't control myself,
I can't control my emotion:
Love, Hate, Jealousy.
They spill out of my heart, pour into my mind,
changing the way
I think, live life,
act and behave,
my personality;
A broken version of who I am,
who I really am.
Or was.

So yes, I have
a crush.
Because there's something with it,
something that is so...
a d d i c t i n g.

The pain I'm anticipating,
Being hurt as constantly as the moon
changes its face.
A constant flare of excitement,
being able to look at her face again and
Hope.
Hope to be able to get that face time with her.
Even if her time is mine no more,
(it never was)
as others are her time now.

But I want to be happy (at least appear that way)
in front of her so she too
can flash her pearly whites
as her eyes wrinkle from a wide grin,
sometimes a tear rolling down her
soft smooth cheeks
from too much laughing.

All these presents wrapped nice and tight
in one gigantic wrapping
of Disappointment.
And rightfully so,
now that the happy holidays are upon us.

My son runs, wrapping arms around
my nebulous waist.

"l love you, Mom!"  He squeezes tighter,
as if letting go would be his black hole.

"I love you, too, " I squeeze back, absent mindedly.  (Where is the cream? I need coffee.)

"I love you more!" he breathes, without pause.
He gazes into my eyes,
searching my planets.

"Oh no, that can't be true," I retort.
I forget the coffee, his eyes are starlight.

"I love you to infinity!" he exclaims,
staring harder.

He wants to sail the Milky Way with me.

"Me too," I reply, and remember oxygen tanks.

I'm speaking in light years, and I hope the sound waves will catch up to him.

His face cracks into a million years of forever, before he lets go,
dancing across the universe of our livingroom,
his solar system intact.

At least for now.

Being held in your embrace,
Your head against my chest.
How could you wonder why,
I love this so so much?

It's gentle security against the:
Mind that claws itself every day,
People sparring against our hope,
Tumultuous times this life gives.

An act of love, of friendship,
Compassion and closeness.
You are my companion,
A joy unrivalled in my life.

Everything said here,
Is captured in a perfect act:
Our arms wrapping around,
Bodies pressed together.

Your hugs. My hugs.

My culture betrayed me at birth,
Abandoned me on the West Coast
And stripped the heritage from my
Rosy red tongue
                                       the Cali sun
Kissing my ****** skin, carefully, softly,
Wrapping me in her white bed sheets
Calling me one of her own.

Strings, strings, wrapping around porcelain skin,
For why does the bruises not show?
With a waist, hip, and two legs that are so thin,
For why does the skin always glow?
Hair that never sheds, nor grows, nor messes,
For why does the girl not wash it?
With a merry face that still never truly expresses,
For why does the face not show even a slight fit?
Stoic, conjoined, the feet never stomping,
For why does the limbs never feel frostbit?
Perhaps it is a lie that the being is a girl,
As it is only with strings that she can ever twirl.

You are a sunset to me
With beauty emanating beyond my sight
And once you leave, the evening comes
Wrapping me in the depths of the night

I cannot do anything to stop you from setting
Nor bring you back once you leave
So I take every chance to see you
Cherishing the moments I could never retrieve

Sometimes I stare out the window
Looking at the orange sky
Wondering what makes a sunset so breathtaking
I guess I will never know why

We are all so very fragile.
Our sun kissed porcelain faces
are freckled with Achilles heel fault lines and chipped paint.
Shining through to our nervous nervous system and our tendency to over think things.
We hide so much inside of us.
Behind dance less masquerades
Our bodies held together only by cages of ivory bones
cages that cradle the thin winged heart beats of our chest
nervous moths stumbling around inside
knocking books off of shelves and
eating the sweaters that we use to keep our hearts from freezing over.

The autumn wind is cold like sad glaciers
and it's easy to break down at times like these.
Our bones ache and shriek like boiling tea kettles.
Making it hard not to shatter.

We are all so fragile.
Burnt out light bulb fragile.
Frozen lake fragile.
Defibrillated heartbeat fragile.
We are broken branch fragile
chronic alcoholics sobriety fragile.
The middles school girls reaction to the word “fat” fragile
We are the kind of fragile that set off big bangs.
We are, paranoid breakable.
And its got to the point where
we have begun taping up our light leak vulnerabilities
with perceptions of perfection and thoughts of rejection
spending our time in dark rooms as our minds just keep reeling
and trying to shut off feelings and unwind
but we have been over exposed to such ****.
To slides and slides of negative negatives

we used to burst apart with so much light.

but the sun isn't shining honest, the night sky is black
and its raining in all the wrong ways.
We're out of season.
sewing up the holes in our personality
with floods of insecurities and droughts of identity.
damning what matters.

****, its hard to know what matters.

But I am still trying to figure that one out
And the moths are still here
as the pendulum clocks keep ticking
eating the sweaters that we used
to keep our hearts from freezing over.

But we are freezing to the core.
The atoms inside of us splinting into half lives;
we haven't even lived half of our lives
yet we feel so ancient.
The dust piles growing on our slanted bookshelves shoulders
Our bright idea light bulbs flickering,
getting covered up by snowdrifts.

We are gas giants wrapping ourselves into open space darkness
hiding from the bright side of the moon.
Like a black cat superstition we are running from our own precondition
of lying about being ourselves
We pull dark black-hole hoods over our eyes
wincing at the light trails of shooting stars
though we, too, want to be brilliant.
We try to orbit the sun hoping that humanity is a symphony;
that being popular and having the most friends is what matters.
and we can be where the grass is always greener by fitting in and by being mirrors
Even though not being yourself is nauseating.

We can be nauseating, we can be mirrors.

Because we are scared that if we don't
hide who we really are
we may end up like Pluto.
Ostracized for existing.
floating around in space having stare downs with wormholes
A shivering rock entity with a complete loss of identity.

We already are so lost.
Our souls waning and waxing
Rocking back and forth
on wood beams and porches.
like an ADD moonbeam rocking chair.

But now its time to stop in one place and readjust our backbones.

Because I know that we are fragile, I know that.
I know that its hard filling in the cracks that have found their way down our back-stabbed spines
we all have our histories with being dropped and rejected.
But we weren't made to be cardboard box people,
packing tape and labels wrapped in all of the wrong places.
we are boxes full of wormholes into other dimensions
we are full of life and blood and bones,
full of oceans and stardust and daggers
There is so much more to us than our brown paper complexions.
So climb out of those kangaroo pouch caves that you have called home for the last few years
There's no need hiding anymore.
You can be safe in your own skin.
You can climb the Himalayas and scream out as many lightning rods as you want
we will all be listening as you burst apart into thunder claps.
As you bleed yourself into infinity

So, dim the lights

Throw your self at the world
and crash like waves into existence
you are perfect when you are yourself.
Grab that porcelain off of your face
and let your smile super nova fracture into a cosmic grin of constellations.

People will look up to you and be inspired.
A cardboard box rookie sprawled out in the stars.
Lighting up all of our faces with E.T. fingertips.
No longer hiding being reflective eclipses
There's only one person who can tell you who you are.
Only you can speak for yourself.

I know that your fragile
I know that.

We all are..,

He woke up
next to the empty spot
where Wonder Woman had been.
He puked in the toilet
slammed down a forty-ounce Miller High Life
and started putting the suit on.
boots
the gray and black tights
the gloves
the yellow utility belt
and the cape.
It was leather.
He put the cowl
under his arm and left his apartment.
It was a late start
nearly noon
by the time
the bus got him to
Mann's Chinese Theater.
He saw a lot of his
friends and colleges
as the bus went down to his stop.
It was a regular day
all the characters were
in their usual little groups.
Spider-Man & Captain America
two Mormon boys that had been
excommunicated from the church
they got caught **** *******
each other
now they were stuck in Hollywood
like everyone else.
The X-Men
or H-Men as most people called them
were a group of junkies.
One of them had a cousin at Fox
and they got four replica X-Men costumes.
So that's how they scored
their junk everyday
garnered pretty good tips from the tourists.
Cyclops, Jean-Grey, Storm, and Wolverine.
It was a good grift. **** good idea.
Then you had the impersonators
plastic surgery freaks
obsessed with Michael Jackson
creepy bald men dressed as Dr. Evil
and there was always
a lazy fat guy
that would do Elvis.
Not know any of the songs
and saying the catch phrases all wrong,
"Well, thank you Ma'am....thank you so much."
Those guys never lasted too long.
The cutesy cartoon characters
were almost always
pedophiles or ******* ladies.
The horror people were hands down
the most bat-**** insane of the lot.
They got into the most fights
they terrorized the kids
and they talked a lot of ****.
Would bate guys into fights.
Michael Myers would always start ****
with guys that had beautiful women with them.
It was ****** up.
The LAPD took away Freddy Kruger last month
for beating up a guy
right in front of his kids.
There was talk from the cops
about shutting down their whole thing down.
Making it illegal to dress up in costumes
and get tips.
'Panhandling' as the office had said.
But
Batman hung out with
Superman & Wonder Woman
while doing his thing.
The night before
Wonder Woman and him
had been drinking, smoking, and
they ****** once
before she asked him
what she needed to.
"We got two new guys starting tomorrow."
"What?"
"Yeah. They came up to me on the street today,
wanted to know if they could hang with us."
"Wha? What? Well...do they have costumes?"
"Yeah." She said, exhaling smoke, wrapped in the sheet on the bed.
"These guys got a Green Lantern and a Robin costume. Really good quality,
they showed me pictures. Hey, you finally got a Robin now! Isn't that great?"
"****...I don't know Diana...I was kinda liking our little *******.
"Oh come on, Bruce. It'll be good." She said, wrapping her arms around him
as he sat on the edge of the book, looking out the window.
"We can finally get the big, group tips. Like what the H-Men got going."
"Alright. That's fine."
And the next day
there they were,
Green Lantern & Robin.
Wonderful costumes, like she said
their hair color and overall appearance
spot on.
"Hey there!"
"Hello. Robin. Green Lantern."
Their gloved hands all shook.
They got acquainted and he couldnt help but like them.
Nice guys, musicians, Rockabilly guys, from Venice.
They went out into
the crowd of people
Superman's voice booming over the crowd
telling everyone that they're safe from
evil and wrong doers, blah, blah, blah,
the usual ******* that Superman always said.
Batman yelled to Robin over the enclosing crowd.
They were now fully entrenched by people
fat & sweaty
Batman's panic attack took over.
"COME ON!" He shouted over the rising crowd noise.
The dynamic duo
shoved & pushed
parting the sea of fat tourists
and breaking out onto the sidewalk.
"What's up, Batman?" Robin asked
looking up to him.
The size difference was just like in the comics
Robin was a little guy.
"I just needed to get outta there. Let's go take a lap
down Hollywood Boulevard...see what kinda cash we can grab."
"Okay, Batman."
They walked
up and down
the walk of fame
posing for a few pictures
making some kids day
with wide-eyed excitement
that will be with them forever.
They made forty bucks too.
"Alright, that's good for now. Let's grab a beer, Robin."
It was a small dive
on Hollywood Boulevard
they were two beers in
and Robin was learning a lot
about how Hollywood really was.
Some real talk from Batman to Robin.
"Yup. I moved out here in 1997. I saw that movie 'Swingers' and I thought...
I could do that, that could be my life, I want that."
"And what happened Bats?"
"Well...I came out here, went to film school, did everything I was told, and...
I still got ******." He said, taking a long pull from the bottle.
"Well what happened exactly?"
Robin's green glove, gripping the brown bottle
tilting it back, bubbles rising
"Well...ya see...when I was in film school, the instructors all told us...you either do your internship here in Hollywood or go to New York. Anywhere else and you won't be able to make it. That's what they said."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. So I did my internship here in Hollywood and it was for nothing. The whole two years that I was at Faramount, I was never allowed to even touch any film equipment. Well, just to dust it off and clean it. But they didn't even try to teach me anything there. I just did food runs at lunch, got them their Starbucks in the morning, and took out the trash. Swept the parking lot, cleaned the toilets, I was a ******* janitor at that place. And you know what happened next?"
"Huh?"
"One day they just fired me. Just like that. After two years of being their ***** boy. So now I have $50,000 in student loans that I can't pay back, and a degree that got me nowhere."
"****." Robin said, finishing his beer.
"Yeah. So what do you do?"
"I'm in school for audio engineering."
"Ah...the music business eh?"
"Yeah, Batman."
"Hmm."
Batman grew silent then, just finishing his beer, and staring into the mirrored wall.
He wanted to say,
"I have 117 scripts sitting in a stack next to my t.v. That's eight screenplays a year. Robin, I've been at this for fourteen years and it doesn't get any better. I never stop trying and I keep at it, year after year. But I'm done. Get out while you
still can Robin. This city will eat you, **** you, **** you. If you still have a home, I suggest you go back to it."
Batman sat there, his beer finished, still staring straight ahead.
Robin pulled out a ten dollar bill, smiling, calling for the bartender
with that sparkle in his eye
of youth and hope.
He didn't want to say all that ****
crush that gleam in Robin's eye
like he once had.
Those were the best days
the great days
the glory days
to be young, handsome, poor, and hopeful
that you could make it
that it could happen.
So Batman didn't say another word about it.
Nope.
There were things
Robin would have to learn all on his own.

Christmas Eve was coming
There was plenty to be done
There were protocols to follow
There were programs to be run

Presents needed wrapping
Elves had duties of their own
They've been doing it for centuries
They could call Christmas in by phone

Reindeer games were scheduled
Christmas Carols to be sung
There were toys to be assembled
There were bells that must be wrung

Christmas Cakes...no problem
For we all know there's just one
It gets passed around each Christmas
And that is half the fun

But, back now to the reindeer games
Donner wasn't there
But, neither were three others
It gave Santa Claus a scare

He called the elven vet in
Said "find out what it wrong"
"If I don't have all my reindeer"
"It'll ruin Rudolph's song"

The vet came back directly
Hoof and mouth was what he said
The reindeer must  miss Christmas
They were all confined to bed

Santa couldn't take it
Reindeer home...what would he do?
He thought real hard about an answer
Where would he find something that flew

The vet said, "I've an answer"
"But, no questions...just your trust"
"I'll get your gifts delivered Santa"
"I just need your magic dust"

Santa said "do your best Doctor"
"We can't have Christmas end like this"
"Are you sure you have an answer?"
"We can't give Christmas time a miss"

The vet and elves went searching
They formed a team like none before
They went around to the animals
And then they knocked on Santa's door

Santa looked at what they'd brought him
His reindeer gone, but here they stood
A team had been assembled
It made Santa sink into his hood

Harnessed up before him
The vet had two dogs and a bear
A ******, goat, and donkey
And a bald, blind cat...stood there

He smiled and said "Dear Santa"
"They may not look like that much now"
"But, they'll get you where you need to be"
"And they'll be led by a brown cow"

If you hear some noises
From your roof, like bleats and barks
Some, meowing or some mooing
And other strange sounds in the dark

Remember, it's just Santa
With his new team for the season
Rex, Rolf, Billy, Ben, Bessie, Joe, and Mike
and a bald, blind cat who's freezin'

Merry Christmas to all and to all....don't look up!!