So, Here It Comes

So, here it comes
Into the place where I have yet to discover

Here you leave
From a place I wasn’t sure existed

Until you left
And now I sit.

Here I am.

My gaze intense
My deliver friendly

For how many times do I have to come to you?
For you to know, I would always try

Easy when I do it
Harder, when you own all the air around you

I rebel against suffocation,
How many times have I told you that?

I understand how it’s hard to come back to something that won’t stand still

But stillness has always been my enemy
I smell running on my skin

I am free, hence why I’m lost

Among the Giants

I decided I wanted to wake up
    one more morning
I decided I will wait
    for you to come back
I only wanted you to cherish me

Yet, here I am among the trees
The only majestic creatures left
Stoic, yet lively
Standing in solitary confinement
Buoyant, floating with the land 

I never thought I could feel more than they do
The trees can solve anything
The last pillars of the great green earth
If they leave it would all signify differently

So here I am among the giants
Waiting with bare legs
Like a visitor who becomes a permanent guest
I am seeping into nature
Silent and motionless
Just like my towering neighbors
The moon as my beacon
I remember when you were my light

Ghosts of Crossroads

When we are found at a new crossroads we often use it as a time to figure out who we are now, who we were, where we are going. We are blocked by a somewhat heartbreaking checkpoint -- a stop in the road where we are forced to look into ourselves, out of ourselves and all around. We are in motion.

The ghosts of roads traveled
Parts of me that are supposed to be covered and now exposed
Delicacy has trickled off me—
I’m restless

Often I don’t wait–
I’m anxious for a breath to fill in the space
Waiting for a free rhythm

Something indicates you’re behind me
Trailing my muffled steps
I refuse to be adrift
Yet I cannot ignore your lecherous shadow
Depriving me of purity

Yet I keep looking behind me —
For the ghosts of my crossroads
With every step they melt off me
What I want to be is unlatched

My movements are bottomless
I walk freely at night
I don’t believe in looking where I’m going
I am an old loneliness
I frolic with my ghosts

As seen in Live FAST Magazine

No Reservation

Doesn't it seem too late to be living?
Somehow the harsh realities have fallen into place already--
Like when the clouds change color so quickly after the sun sets
All of a sudden the sky drops, and the shades of color fade into ashen grey


It's late here.
I can tell by the way your one eye is closing in on me
Somehow you have already fallen into place
Like you are set in stone
Our bodies are tolerant
Plastered with the adhesive of persistent eyes
No thought of any reservation
I will not wait for you tonight


I always try to fall asleep before you
but tonight, you have caught me
 

Closed

When you close your eyes
There is a dream there waiting to be seen
Why must you close your eyes to remember?


I can't see when I sleep.
I close my eyes when I cry
Without it, I would never see--
or feel the water form at my corners


I close my eyes when I feel you.
Because I don't want to look anywhere else.


I close my eyes because they are sewn shut with time
I always find it too late to be seen


How will I know when you look at me?
 

young dead men

The other night you asked me, “Which is stronger, life or death?” But I knew you had already made up your mind. “Life,” I answered, “Because it bears so many evils.”

They always said we should be surprised at everything. 

When the cluster of experience fades away and all that is left is looking, and looking, and re-seeing what has withered, I look to the ones in which I’m not yet acquainted. But time has dimmed his delight in new scenes and strange faces. Almost overnight he was denude of life.

You’re a lovely man. Well, you were. 

You turned piercingly on me. Your efforts are ruinous, darkly rooted in desires and satisfactions. Selfish hopes that are often unfulfilled. 

They always said it takes a very long time to become young.

I never intended to be where I am. However, I’m standing here. While you wither with quiet desperation, I’m looking fear in the face.

I have no cautionary words for you. I walk the serpent-like, boisterous roads. I walk into the dark gradients of the unknown. Only to find myself solitary at the bottom of the well.

I will not list all their names here, because they are so numerous. 

The young dead men that have given me a memory of a lifetime.

 

As seen in liveFAST magazine

the heart that you took from me


So I met you-
unavoidably so-
an unavoidable surge
so now, i love you.


She had been in love in her head
Seems mystifying that I, had been, in my head, in love.
Living on an impulse
Fumbling at my spirit


I happen to be standing
For a while I knew we had a lifetime
I never intended to be here
Now my river runs to you


This is a seasick way
This almost, always, never touching
This consistent movement
This to and fro


So I met you-
the heart, you took it from me
unavoidably so-
so now, i love you.
 

I Want to be the Color of the Sand

I want to be the color of the sand
I want the golden hues in my hair. I want the murky brown in my skin.
I want a strain of white running down my leg. I want grainy imperfections on my cheeks.
I desire the coarseness on my knees
To me, that means I have lived.
The evidence of sea rooted in my blood.

I want to age like the sand
Smaller by erosion
A fine grain that feels good to be on
A surface that moves with the wind
And settles with ease.

I want to move like the sand
Get in all your creases.
Be the constant reminder that something is on your body
The reminder to rinse yourself clean.

I want to be static like the sand
Evidence that there is support under your feet.
Truth that gravity exists.
The safety net when you can’t escape the reef

 

Let The Ocean Assert Her Dominance

An early morning at sea. The sun is peeking through the clouds and there is that small brisk of air that tickles your nose- the sort of cold that you can only experience on the open sea. The breeze has a different texture, a briny finish against your cheeks.

To my left there is a continuous sea, the vastness of the Pacific ocean sweeps the horizon. The ocean seems boundless when I am on the boat. It’s like I can encounter the untold out here- it must be the denude of the surface.

When you let the ocean assert her dominance- you cannot be hurt by her aloofness.

The callous world does not effect the capacious ocean. She shouts commandments by the way of waves, is somber and immovable with her shores. Her surf emanates a fragrance of peace. I could never foil her power, she hurts me with her mystery. Yet I can find shelter in her swell. For my fear of her is quite groundless, for aren’t most things crowned by a rough finish?

No Stars To See

A sound of fury
The rustle of life.
Where will we go now?
Now that time has seemed to expire.

Where do we go?
Now that there is no wind
Now that there are no stars to see

Where do we go?
Now that the glistening of your eyes has evaporated
Now that I can no longer see the stars you see

Tell me where to go
I can use your direction or mine

Tell me where to go.
I would rather know from you.

Lets find the sea
That vast open place where we can be
alone in a space where only the waves can tell us where we are

Lets ride the ride
Not wait for the moon
Trust her-
She will take you where you want to go

Ride the wave kid
Who am I to say kid-
Aren’t we all looking for that youth-
The youth of the fresh white water

Take me with you.