"wear another shoe to comfort the soul..."

your every look (which today) uncloses
my every smile and thought
timid—expecting—a heart
still. (reflecting off of me)
—I, undone.

lights that traffic a wasteland
never dimming – point of beginning
(or the end.)

red light, green light
beckoning. (go)
days where I wish—
street lights might turn blue instead of green
(like your eyes)

you take me in and then disclose me
oh, Love that cannot and will not (ever)
—be known.

waves rush in (as well as fools), oh child,
and we shatter.
rhythmic pull of a western tide
bringing us in and hemming us out
finding that these are paths for a solitary way

looking up, looking deeply to decide
the sky is gaping wide.
to an image of myself (I am bound)
sky too blue. day too near.

"I am as constant as the northern star"

I think that if my feelings were liquid,
they would be blood.
And the red of them
would be drenching my white Armani blouse right now.
I think if my heart were a playground,
it would be closed at 3 p.m. each day
and on the days you get bored with me.

But it would be open
each and every rainy day,
without exception.

I hate power.
When you have it all,
my cells move in the opposite direction of your touch.
When I have it,
I use it like black magic
and ruin everything around me;
including you.

I think if aching has become my career,
I’d like to retire early.
I think I’d at least like to take my seven-day vacation
very soon.

I’ve never been a brick-layer,
a wall-builder…
there is no dam keeping my feelings
from spilling over the rocks,
or onto your plate during our dinner conversation.

I’m sorry.
Should I change?

I think if I do,
I might become a solid that can’t melt—
not under heat or pressure.
And that sounds pretty permanent.

When I swallow,
I wish it would work.
I wish The Moment and Forever
would stop rising in the back of my throat
every time I breathe.

The Fools' Love

Alas, amore shall sting your sides
For deftly Cupid's arrow flies
Across the land or sky or sea
To pierce cold hearts in irony
You gasp and shudder in anguished woe
Two strangers caught by Cupid's bow
And love's first spell begins to play
On lovers trapped by a cherub's sway

'Ay, me. What is love?' she desperately cries
Her entreaties met by a silent sky
Devotion burns, he pleads with her,
'My heart is yours, oh please concur'
'Baby I'm afraid you'll break my heart.'
He draws her close and swears never to part
Then fire burns with expanding glow
And a tempest of fervor threatens their souls

Now, others watch this dangerous game
Some human, some not, but all know the same
If asked they can't say what love really means
If pressed they'll just say "Love's more than it seems"
But Puck, he knows, the clever truth
And for a price he'll speak in sooth
If the lovers ask with earnest pleas
(And add a gift) he'll answer quick as you please

"True love," he'll say with impish grin
"Is more than just a heart to win;
But sacrifice, faith, and a little fun
True love won't begin 'til the wedding's done."
But silly lovers bask in passions' glimmer
'Til rapture fades to a dying simmer
And in anguish the lovers break their embrace
And walk away wounded by mishandled grace

Puck likes to foil Cupid, so you see,
In the dying ardor he looks on with glee
And if you listen softly you'll hear his decree
'Lord what fools these mortals be.'

In Honor of Valentines Day--A Love Poem

I wanted to finish something I started.

So when we kissed that first time
and you said, “We can do better.”

I thought,
“Let’s make this homework
for the rest of our lives.”

I want to make plans for the future.

I want to live inside a giant bookshelf
disguised as a house.
I want a vegetable and herb garden out back,
flower pots on every window sill,
easy access to my easy-bake-oven,
finger paintings hung like sconces on the wall,
and you
in a chair
studying,
thinking,
reading,
dreaming,
waiting;
ready for me to interrupt you,
eager to hear me remind you
that we are alive.

We are alive together.

So when I tell you, “I love you.”
I mean it in the ways they do;
on television and inside books
(and inside the looks they give one another
across candlelit tables)

But more than that, I mean it
in all the ways I hadn’t planned for—
the ways I now
can’t imagine
living without.

I wanted to finish something I started.
So I started with you.