January 22, 2015

Tandem lives, not parallel, but
Perpendicular, weave together
To form a pattern that no one
But God herself can see.
Your breath forms a cloud
In the January air, and even
Now I can remember your
Face behind the haze;
Lips pursed, just to one side,
A smirk that I have become
So accustomed to seeing
Slowly comes into view.

The irony of our connection
Is not lost on me: it is only
That which keeps us close
(Not geographically) that
Separates us still today.
There’s not a soul alive
Who could testify to the
Uncommon bond we share,
And yet, here I am again.
One day, we’ll meet up
Over a pot of earl grey,
And our stories will rise
Into reality once more.


I am hiding under a sheet
Like a child on Halloween.
As always, you cut to the chase.
Everything I am is before you:
Pages of a tattered book
That you know oh so well
Rustle in the warm breeze
Hopping from one
Leaf to the next.

If I was a tree, my arms
Stretched and growing
In all directions,
You’d come to me
And pull away my bark
Just to find out more.
Your insatiable curiosity
Comes at a terrible price:
In exchange for my life,
You want a place within it,
Forged by your own two hands
Blackened with soot.
Like that one long moment
When I put my glasses on,
Wide-eyed recognition
Of the position you hold
With such sweet relish.
Those eyes tell me so much
Fixated on the horizon,
I can’t help but look back.

You’re in too deep now;
A part of you swims through
My bloodstream and
Enjoys the ride every time
My heart beats.


Feeling Nostalgic

December 28, 2008

an evening of bliss and regret
I remember barking out the window
through downtown Seattle
and sleeping under a desk

the best dream I have ever had
Spiderman pajamas and curly hair
I had met the love of my life
and her name was Ruth

a decision that needed to be made
you held my hand and walked me
through six months of what could never be
now you’re back and I’m scared shitless

the discovery of a new world
sword and shield in hand, I ran into
endless battle and made new friends
in Oklahoma and New Zealand

an afternoon in the April sun
who would think that something
as innocent as sidewalk chalk could
make a guy like me a threat?

a chance to return home
two magical days in the California sun
running through Tomorrow-land
living like a child once more

the longest night of spring quarter
somehow I ended up at the Ballard ER
thank god for paramedics or else
I would have lost a friend

a chance at love, freckles and all
we flew in the face of everyone who
thought it wouldn’t work out
she smelled like summer rain

speaking of summer!
it’s almost as if the days getting
longer expanded my heart
in more than one way

a few days spent by the river
we had crossed a few by the end
climbed a mountain and enjoyed
being men in the wild

coming back to that big blue box
old friends and new, it wasn’t ever
as bad as I made it out to be
plus the discount rocks

the second hardest decision
I would make this year, I just wish
that it had been in person and not
by text message

a welcome urban escape
checking out underground art
and grooving to a flawless concert
by my favorite band

a major transition, in a couple of ways
not only a new roommate but
some lines were drawn in the sand;
lines I knew I would have to cross

the late bloom of a spring flower
something told me that you knew
I know I have an awful poker face
and it wasn’t even the dreams

becoming a Roman!
perhaps more than just the lingo
picking up their mannerisms, like
leaving my mark on the world

reading a few books, after all
I had finished Rand and wanted to
immerse myself once again in
Tolkien’s Middle-Earth

the end of the quarter brought
more than just the end of classes
saying goodbye to a friend hurts
I wish that hug had lasted forever

stuck indoors, all my friends
immobilized by the blanket of
surprise December snow; at
least it was a white Christmas

they really ought to think of
a name for this week between
Christmas and New Year’s Eve
it’s a perfect time to reminisce


Dirty Socks

October 18, 2008

The way water drips down
Your collarbone
When the rain is hard enough
To make a difference
All I can do is turn around
And smile like a serpent

You’ve had a tough life
Pacing the hardwood floors
Of middle childhood
I wonder if you remember
How fucking good I look
In a tuxedo

Damaged goods,
Nights so hot that your
Pajamas stuck to your shoulders
And I was so angry at
Absolutely nothing
I stood out in the quiet
Hours of twilight
And screamed

Stretching the boundaries
Of where I thought I should go
The unforgettable smell of
Piercing the air, it always
Makes me think about
England in the summer
Even though I’ve never
Been there

Eventually the things
That matter most fall away
Like dirty socks
Into god knows where
To be collected by
A series of traps
Set for my


The Gates

October 9, 2008

originally written in March 2008

Were you to ask me what the best
Feeling in the world is, I would tell you
Walking through the Gates.

That Magical Kingdom, my home in a
Very real way, is a special place.
I remember now, the last time I
Came through the Gates.

An overwhelming giddiness, enough so
To bring me to my knees, strikes like
A flash-flood.
Washing over me like cold water
Cleansing my wounds, making me young again

At last, I would say, I am home.