Take me back to the South?
I rubbed a puppy but you made it live,
I held your hand and ego as a ghost rode *****,
I tasted your mouth
Your deep addictive kisses were salty ripe with hidden tears, expectations and confessions of fears,
You pressed me for affirmation with one foot out the door,
My supposition acquiesced to passion
Then, you disappeared

Now you’re here
Pressing me,
Asking me what do I want?
I need consistency, presence, commitment, and time.

What do I feel?
What I feel is
Soul mate attraction,
Unconfined by silence,
Driven, diving, biding
Ineffable, inexplicable, unconstrainable
Uncontainable love and lust
Intertwined and unbound
How do you feel?

Do you have clarity?
For me, it’s taking its sweet time
Dragging and compartmentalizing
The inner unraveling of the unforgiven knot of the unacknowledged
The unpolished
And unabolished.

What do I want?
Excuse me as I try to unpack the dusty boxes,
On my neglected shelves.
I’m not a stranger to love or lust,
But, I’m not a friend either.
I’m not an enchantress,
No siren here my friend.
Nor, am I an open book,
My closest companions are the choir of thoughts,
Who sing songs of loyalty, doubts and declarations,
I’ve wandered but
I want a true partner to walk hand in hand the path of a life mundane,
Stealing moments of hungry happiness, exquisite.

You break down my defenses
Despite all logic and suppression,
Fingers press into mind’s flesh,
Nails rake down your neck.
My heart pounds and my mouth rounds,
Warm wet worship,
Down the base of your inspiring ****.
Your groaning and growing elicit my complete attention,
And, focus my irreverent intentions
To unraveling the bead formed on the cusp of your tip,
Your palms trace the strands of my hair,
Your pleasure drives sated completion
Is it plans or preoccupations of hands?
Are you practicing yet?

For now, as you lament love lost
I’ll sit quasi patient,
Outwardly immobile and facetiously engaged
Damp wanting but waiting,
Quietly watching the two flames in my candle
As they melt and burn the wax around its’ wicks,
Hot but constrained
Destructive but contained.

I’ll be externally reverent for the life carefully molded,
Grateful for familial serenity
But, ever mindful of the calling,
Forged by sound, touch and taste
To an internal dereliction sung by our blue flame.

Threads
in my mind
weaves mazes,
and I find
you there–
Among all the words and phrases,
And the many works I’ve read–
Holding all the strings in hand.
Connected to everything, everywhere.
When I close my eyes at night,
in each journal that I write,
in the sky and land,

And at the end of every poem–
You're there

There's plenty of fish in the sea
But you weren't just another fin tail
You were the gorgeous waters itself 
I drown myself in your passion
My entire world flooded with your love
A hurricane that wrapped my heart
So when you left without a drop
When the love dried to the bone 
And my world is now dust and empty 
How could I ever want a fish
When it was the ocean herself
That filled my love

Canadian goose sitting
On retaining wall of stone.
Bellied up to the roadside edge,
Seemingly alone.

Wistful and wishful the goose,
While watching the men working-
On sterile high rise apartments
Near build-it-and-they-will-come bars.

With wings that can fly, oh why,
Does it seem like he will jump?
It's a 10 ft fall way down below
To a concrete & chrome filled dump.

I look into his eyes to find,
The huge suffering he feels.
But further there beyond the goose,
A habitat's revealed.

A winding glade n' Greenway path,
To an urban pond and park.
Not as grim to him, I see--
friends swimming by the dock.

Yes, a goose will always find
The water in the sprawl.
He'll find the pretty little stream,
By offices & malls.

To be goose, is to be free
Of yearning and supposing.
Of thinking how things ought to be,
Unsettled by the hoping.

If I could find my little stream,
Oh, maybe I could swim.
I could honk and splash and settle down-
Find the peace somewhere within.

I wanted to look to you like I was dancing
But the bugs on my bark weren't moving enough
I kept reaching skyward and praying for wind
     Never comes to a call, does it?
You could trace each fissure on my surface--why don'chya?--
     Find stories and runnels for flowing sap
Saw me off at the hip, maybe. See what jokes my rings have to tell

I'm tired of waiting for wind; I want to dance (I think?)

I wanted to look to you like I was thoughtful
So I sliced off a sheet of cyan and I robbed the sky
You called me "thief." ******' mean
     Always reaching for silver, aren't we?
Try to touch irises, press pupils. I've never been further than now
     Stories all end, so I'm told. But this one? Still going
Hacked apart, trying to show you my pieces. Chunks. Rough mince

So I stole again to pay the sky back. Ex nihilo, nihil fit
I can pour from empty, because I'm magic, baby!

I wanted to want to see you in Springtime
But we can't scrape Winter off our faces
     Sling me a flat stone that I can send spinning
Slapping across the water's surface
Did I hit the opposite bank? You could stitch together separate days
     if you only had the sinew and a proper needle
Blown apart by wind and explosive expecting. Chunks. Rough mince

I'm tired of waiting for wind. I'm tired of wanting to dance (I think?)
Not magic--well--not the kind that isn't bone and blood and skin
That's the sort of magic that doesn't exist.

I called you my soulmate
Not because of your beautiful smiles
Not because of the heat from your heart
Not because of your lively laughter
Not because of your flowery scent
Not because of your sweetest kisses
A soul doesn't need any senses
To know when it is in love

Escucho la maquina piar
Y en mi camino encuentro tú risa y andar
Escucho la máquina piar
Y recuerdo nuestro día y noche entrelazar
Escucho la máquina piar
Mi mente sucumbe y me pide verte más
La escucho y deseo puentes poder crear
Lo onirico poder moldear y conectar