4 words

We know the words, the 4 words most
important to our journey
our sailing ship
the words that are the difference, the
true difference
between knowing
and hoping
between here
and there
we know the words and wait
to hear them…
from ourselves, from others, from
inside and
outside
in darkness, in
a chilled velvet November New York night,
in a
blast furnace August Miami morning
we know the words;
‘you are not alone’
and they are vital not because “alone” is horrible
unwanted deprived diminished
frightening
but because if we hear
them, if
they land on eardrums waiting;
then
then
then someone
said them
to
us
and knowing that , feeling that;
having that be the friction on skin that warms
the beating of blood
within
that knowledge becomes
a beacon
a shining lighthouse in storms
of hazard and casualty
and by setting
our compass to a distant point
on a hidden
horizon
we will always be able
prepared
capable of going
home
even if home is wherever we are
right now.

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Now

Now I watch as if I am living
in
a moment of suspension, a madness
creeping by on cat feet,
on
the edge of awareness
I watch her
walk away and felt
my blood cool inside of
me
felt the street beneath
my feet
the air against my
skin
and sadness
blanket the noises around me
until I heard
nothing…felt
nothing
and I realized
that
I was happy to once have had
something so amazing
to lose;
the places where her face filled memories
her smile, eyes that
looked back at me
briefly
too, too briefly
as the dinner hour rushed by
as
she became and at once went
into a past cluttered
with meaningless and thoroughly abstract
echoes of a before
before
there was a
now.

The guessing crowds

We want it all to make sense, to
be clear, intelligible, sane and us
in control but
but
it will never be, it is only a mask
to the madness
and what is inside you
only guessed at by the surrounding crowd…so
we accept obvious lies from
people we trust, from
words on paper, from
beginning to end we are and have always been
alone;
exquisite
magnificent
moving
alive
we have always been singularly in control, but
not out there;
in here
where we breathe think believe and are
ourselves
and only
ourselves…
beautiful full moving staring
relentlessly outward
as if out there is an answer in the many faces
the naked bodies like breadcrumbs to follow backwards
the dream
defined…
there is nothing out there; there is only inside
and we create everything else with our
choices decisions preferences bias hatred indifference disgust
love
we make ourselves whole by the people we create
around us
we create them by choosing
how we are treated
and often it is quantity we choose
because quality
exists inside
very few
so the cacophony of guessing crowds
however maddening spiteful and damaging
takes the place
where quiet
sincere
love
should
be.

info age

We don’t know what we used to think
it was something
hidden
invisible
masked
what we couldn’t see hear touch
feel…and
we wondered…we revered and rewarded those
who wrote poetry and stories
guesses
about who we were
trying to get under the covers
the skin
to divine that which was
concealed
and there was joy in the guessing
love
even
being wrong was normal
was accepted, was
the rule
but now today it is an avalanche
a hard rain of information for days and
days
a heavy scream sitting on shoulders
on our minds we
try to hide but it’s a magnet
drawing us back
no one is wrong…ever
everything is there
uncovered
technology murders our dreams in the night
yet
here we are all dolled up
at daybreak
waiting for a like, a LOL, a thumbs up
wanting to be noticed
wanting to be noticed
needing
to be noticed
because that is us now
willfully exposing the soft squirmy inside
no speculation required
and we don’t know if poetry or stories
will ever
replace what is
lost…what we know now
we willfully
gave
away

she moves

I disappear
beneath her skin, absorbed
like a simple spring rain on too dry sand,
she moves an arm, a
knee bends, her eyelids
slow to roll up
she
and I react, a long breath of
between, her and me;
she is the moment
I feel
the shiny newness of this
what this is
I care less and, what
it isn’t, I care more…but
awakening under morning lights
under the guise of knowing
I reappear for the moment
shifting above the waves
of her, of me…looking
for the tide that takes us deep
into an ocean
of yesterday, thinking that it was
a today I can’t forget
a day that will be replayed…but now
no waves of realization, no
vibrations across small ponds of
emotion, just
the reappearance of
something
I did not
know.

you are your shadow

Dancing on clouds of Ambien, waiting
for a life never lived I sink
toward a reality that is covered in
a rough kind of sorrow
bought and paid for with everlasting credit
years ago…still
I felt a sort of hope
that;
as I rolled around in the shit of life
it was fertilizing
my dreams
it wasn’t
my dreams became the anchor
that sunk me deeper
now waiting for the edges above me
to come falling in on me
to cover me in that
rough sorrow
but then
it was a voice
a smile, a way of moving just a few fingers
and I saw a glimpse
a crack in history
as you seeped into my world
shadows of you
running like small boys on the playground
laughing and crying
like boys do
until I was covered
and the shit of life
receded
and I saw you clearly
the first
and the
forever time.

said just like that

Racism,
misogyny
anti-Semitism
philandry
conservative
liberal…
hate
said just like that, no
flowery background context, no
squint in the eye, no
reason other than
to say it…and we lose
our minds;
hardwired? Were our minds
ever ours when
what we don’t know about them
is an ocean
what we do know;
a drop
and we look at ourselves
with microscopes
and CNN, with
cash in hand
we buy our thoughts online
sell our
outrage
to the highest bidder…we ask
does society invent
or exploit
am I destined
you
us
to create walls cages
steel and concrete boxes
stacked
on top of us
protecting our insanity
and the
complex
simplicity
of opening our eyes
to a new
day.