she is a happy ending,
not everyone can wait for.

Last week

seven of my

children were

all together for

the first time

in a long time.


and as each one

came into the room

to greet me.

I felt my roots

grow

deeper and

deeper to

the center

of the universe.


and in their smile

I saw the smile of

my father,

the smile

of my mother.,


and as I drank

in their laughter

I became

drunk with

life.


and when night

fell

I looked up to

the heavens

took a deep

breath into

my soul.


then I

memorized

the exact place

of every star

and shimmer.


and I knew

I had finally

found my

place in

the universe.

sunflowers of love nurtured by my will,
giving life in every tiny pleasure.
growing higher every day, until,
they're simply too tall to measure.

He thought everything was alright
since he never heard her sobs.
So he went on with his life after
a halfhearted apology.
And she went back to bed
filling her favorite pillows
with her silent sorrows.

I can feel the smell of those there are not here anymore
I can feel the touch of those in the grave
Of those that no longer breathe
The sweet and cold embrace that some things can never change
I feel it in my bones
My broken bones
My broken ribs that are only cages to protect what's left behind it
You thought about a heart
But there's only ashes
Ashes to always reborn
Ashes to ashes
Will you hear my name on my last breath?
Together we can take the world
Let me guide your hands
And let's wreack havoc amongst those who can't see us
Let's burn their heart's
Until you remember my name
You will never remember my name
Because
We're barely here anymore
We're disappearing
Our names are in long forgotten languages
And our hearts
Turned stone cold

Love is
two soft animals
venturing out of their shells.
Underbelly exposed.
Trembling,
feeling foolish.
Embarrassed
about themselves.
But can’t stop
the madness.
Like moths approaching
a flame,
they are doomed
to be consumed
by the sacred fire.
Totally.

Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath

Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013