Gossamer or Green

October 21, 2008

spiders or flowers
webs among vines
minutes still move to hours
a tick at a time.


When I Was Young I Was Eager

October 20, 2008

fingers
leaving a trail of bumps,
the small translucent hairs
rising
on her arm,
barely touching –
subtle tremors,
eyes closed
tight.
tension upon tension,
gentle kisses
warm
against her skin,
follow her shoulders curve
up to her neck
and the smooth
corners of her
lips.


We Are Not We

October 20, 2008

i want you to understand
we are not WE
we are you,
we are me,
and we were never us.
we would never have done
what was done by us.


She Wrote Me A Letter

October 20, 2008

She wrote me a letter —

Bittersweet as a goodbye kiss
and desolate as the Gobi
subtle as the the breeze in her hair
and cold as the winter.

— I will not read this one.


The Poet and the Paper

October 20, 2008

sometimes i write
because it isn’t worth
the heat of my breath.

but the poet never forgets.

sorry ears, move on to hear
and an angry voice will soften
but the paper stroked by pen
is permanently encumbered
by whatever mood or muse
has taken the author.

the paper never forgets.


No Good Reasons

October 20, 2008

there were good reasons to stop
and no good reasons to start again,
i’m sorry i can never remember why
and i welcome it back each time.
maybe easy friendship, no more
but it never works that way,
maybe silence and saying nothing
but that never lasts,
i regret that i can never forget why
in the first place i even tried.
and the hurt is never reason enough
to stop.


A Day Without Nails

October 19, 2008

i need a day when i create no nails
Just one,
a day when i don’t earn my
30 silver coins,
one simple day without a kiss
only one when I am not Judas.