August 7, 2013

Pale blue waves wash
Over jagged black boulders,
Darkening the beach with
The ebb and flow of the tide.
Something here, in this place,
Is a clue to ancient knowledge
Long forgotten by history
And modern man; in these
Mounds of earth and rock
Lies the secret to life.

It thrives here. You can
Taste it when you inhale
And feel it with the wind
Spraying foam and mist
Across your face. The few
Who remain here have
Become loyal to the sea;
They will not tell you.
Quiet and stoic, like
The grey behemoth
Whale sharks that drift
In and out of the deeper
Waters, sifting through
Both time and seafoam
For their supper.

To find the secret, you
Must search for yourself.
With each sunset, a part
Of your life sinks into
The Pacific with it.
Letting go is always
The hardest part.



December 9, 2012

Immediately, I looked to you
For guidance (or at least what
I had always considered to
Be good advice). And what
Had you said exactly?
“Time is so relative that
Every clock you’ve ever seen,
Either broken or fixed,
Has been right. Think about
That for just a moment.”
I told you I didn’t want to
Keep seeing them every
Night, parading into the
Fabric of my dreams.
Always the Professor, you’d
Just shrug and expect me
To synthesize the answer.

A parade might be a poor
Choice of terms: it has such
A happy connotation that it
Would be misleading were
You to truly see what I have,
This hall of mirrors inside me
Has exposed what I believe
To be a crossroads of sorts
In the web of our lives.

I say ‘our’ lives because
They are me, and I am them.
I see the writer who lives in
California, taking nutrients
From the soil like the grapes
And putting it all onto paper.
I see the broken heart of a man
Who gave it all up for a life that
He could never fill with the
Laughter of his own children.
I see the teacher who lives on
The beaches of Lake Michigan,
Thinking about how cold it is.
I see the young man who died
Trying to stop a robbery at 17.
I see the boy who took a fever at
A young age and never let it go.
I see every version and alternate
Of this human being possible.
I see myself. And it’s marvelous.


Tempus Fugit

July 5, 2012

Day after day, hour after hour,
You have stared and tortured me.
Even when you were broken,
You simply told me the same thing
Every time we talked, to the point
Of driving me mad. And now,
You are back to normal and
I wish I could stop
Your hand’s slow crawl
Across your face, one and two,
The rhythm unending, intangible;
Your ceaseless march onwards
Has taken me away from Her
Once again, and that, friend,
Is unforgivable.
One day I’ll mend our ways
And slow you ‘till I can hardly
Tell whether or not you are
Moving at all,
And that day will be
Glorious indeed.



January 15, 2009

I watch the tiny hairs on your arm raise
Our mouths collide in an electric frenzy
My hands hold your face carefully, like
I would hold a precious work of art

I feel the nerves throughout my body
Explode with tension, my heart thrashes
Behind my ribs, pounding hard as my
Hands explore the small of your back

You pull away from our kiss slowly
Biting my lower lip, daring me to try again
My lips graze yours once more before
Moving to your elegant neckline

Across the curve of your collarbone
Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip
Fingers run through my hair as I tease
You little by little, each second a lifetime

We are pressed against the wall now
The unmistakable smell of your skin is
Everywhere, enveloping me in the one
Place I feel truly safe anymore

More than anything, I love the look
On your face when we become one
That single, solitary moment where
Time stops, and you lose your breath

The very air is saturated with pleasure
Everything I am has boiled down to the
Slow rotation of your hips upon mine
Time and love flee in a warm embrace