Saturday, April 2


Crystal Falls like tears
or leaves
that beat down on the ground.
The earth that just sucks it up.
Like three licks
on a Tootsie Pop
you always
right down to the center.

Tuesday, January 18

Waiting for a clue

Don't know what I did
Don't know what I said.
I'm at loose ends with all these thoughts
kickin' 'round my head.

Don't know what to say.
Don't know what to do.
I only know having you gone
leaves me quite terribly blue.

But life has taught me lessons.
And life has shown me much.
I am the patient sort
and I'll continue on as such.

Monday, January 10

Wounded but unbroken

My car abruptly swerves
to the side of the road.
A mere song on the radio
brings me to a stunned emotional stop.
The words slam into me
with the force of truth
and I realize they are the words
you have been saying to me for so long
through your actions
your reactions
your silences
and your touch
but that you have never found
the strength to speak aloud to me.
The love I feel for you
has always blocked me from accepting
the looming, sad reality
that you will never
truly return that feeling.
Your heart is not mine and never will be,
and I can’t make you feel for me something
you never have and probably never will,
at least not before it’s too late
and I’ve taken my wounded
but unbroken
heart and found another home for it.
My eyes fill with tears of sorrow
and frustration
and disappointment
as I try to decide whether I have
the strength to speak aloud to you
any of this and set us both free.
I wonder,
if you heard this same song
at this point in our affair,
would you sense the same truth in it
and find a way to tell me
other than that you don’t know
how you feel about me?
I doubt that you would,
just as I doubt I will ever find a way
to let you go first.

Saturday, December 11


I watched every expression of your face
as the blue hues turned and twisted in
the twilight of dreams, the tomorrow
of my memories. I placed your eyes
in front of mine and held them there;
a token taken from longing afterwards
of the sky’s limit on the even after I
hold you place that sits offen in my mind.
The pinewoods hang their boughs for you,
the sometimes light they do let through;
it falls, not on, but near a cheek of soft
and flow and always in my hand is all
the mourning dew of lost
is how I find myself if life is without you.

Sunday, December 5

There was a tree

A small tree hung in the clear sky
on the hill from my off the path view. The
twilight hours were waiting for me.
The morning sun holds most of my memories
and its light reminds me: only
the bright ones worth keeping, only
the hard laboured sun slides are those
you take with you. But you can't take anything,
on another hill, in another time, and
between two gypsy spins, I heard once said.
So it all stays here, I say: In your heart
or hung outstretched, it's all there
between a small tree clear and the huge hill
of the morning's night sky.

Friday, December 3

To The North

Think of rain in November,
the all wet around,
and drizzle all over.
Breathe the snow, its fuzz
while outside you're dancing. Feed
the hunger with passion's fruit
and wet your lips
dangle across skin.
Stretch your tongue
taste all this vivid,
its curls and burrows,
the cold ice of Remember.

Tuesday, November 30

Cold Mountain

I thrashed
in the contradiction
they told me was life then
layed back
into the mystic;
the cold hard face of the afternoon.
It was all feeling and without
strange supplications
that never entered thoughts
but poured out anyway and
over the hills far away
I sit there thinking.

Saturday, November 20

Ask me again

You asked me if I thought it possible
to fall in love
with someone you’d never met.
And I did that thing you hate,
answering a question with a question,
when in reply I asked
if it's possible
to fall in love
at all.
But, really, what I meant was
if one can happen
why couldn’t the other?

Thursday, November 18

Self Included

I don't know
the half told part
of what you think
is in my heart. But
on a five dollar bet
you place your lot
in with all those thoughts
and raise it a dollop
with a cherry on top.
And I'll tell you what,
take it or not, I'll see the dare
full forced, red hot,
and take you on for it all—
each bit that I've got.

Tuesday, November 16

If I say it so...

You need a light to fire
the otherwise twisted and
not so ground upon truth.
Take a spoon, its gentle curves,
the contortions of your face
as they look upon you, take it
in your hand, and when the light
goes out, when the night falls
and you watch only the mirror
of what in your mind was before,
then with it dig, dig, dig
your way home through the shards
of what you one time wanted.