trying to be

To roar, break, crash and thunder
like the clouds above
and let loose
what roils under
this skin too thin
to contain the blood
that looks to pound
against you

To be bright pink
not bloody bruised brown,
burnt, stubbed and rubbed
into the ground

To be rash
And willing to scratch
dreams hiding under scabs
And let them run freely
or float away like ashes
left to the wind

To be anything but quiet
stoic and contemplating
constantly placating
the urge to smash and run

reluctantly relieved

The heat warns of a meltdown
but I’ve knelt to its promises before
only to rise thirsting for a storm
of biblical proportions
It’s what it will take
to squelch this desire
for more than you can give

The clouds hang lower
than my expectations
for a revelation
to relieve this burning
But the sky raises only
a pacifist wind
resigning me
to rescind my declarations
and settle for
a gentle
cooling off

rewind

I wish we’d met travelling
snowed in in some airport
on a long train ride
or any other place
confined by space and time

We’d exchange short narratives
of defining moments
tastes, occupations,
demographics, worst jokes
a plan or two

We’d grow tired of talking
check notifications
send some excuses
but mosty just sit together
and pass the time

We’d forget our facades
as fatigue set in
scratch, pick
yawn uncovered
exchange successes
and failures
past or foreseen
expecting nothing
revealing everything
in spite of ourselves

After which we’d never look back

Instead of years
that could fit in a day
of crossing paths
with little to say
time stretching each moment
decidedly prepared
always falling short
of desires curbed and saved
for a day that never came

so much less

They say that the total

is worth more than its parts
you proved them to be wrong
your lips were worth more
than the kiss they formed
your tongue worth more than its words
your shoulders’ curves more
than the pride they held high
your smile more
than the thoughts it belied
the lines of your torso
and shape of your spine
longer than the lengths
to which they would go
to prove that the heart
that beat so loud and strong
wasn’t just for show

erroded

I’ve twisted tendons
and callused my soles
from searching to meet you
on softer terrain
I’ve tripped up my words
and torqued my soul
from trying to meet you
on higher planes

But you like to lie
close to the ground
to limit perspectives
to single use views

taper expectations
to scraps of paper
thrown clear of anticipation
And any yearning
they may birth
crawling, trawling
scraping up traces
that may promise more
than what has been earned.

So I’ll tear up my efforts
useĺessly sown
in barren dirt
devoid of worth
beyond burying hurt
And never again
set sights or foot
on this trodden plain

background noise

I stare at your photo
but cannot discern
its want or intention
So all I trust
is that empty space
at which I stare
beyond disbelieving
at all that’s not there
to make out what is

If you must know
I’m a little bit slow
and reluctant to admit
I purposefully sit
with this view bestowed
to see what it hides
in the glow of the space
you’ll never fill

People pass
places remain
and empty spaces
won’t explain
why it is you went away
they only howl
that you’re not there
and never were

sweet n sour

Last night I dreamt
you asked me to hold you
and I ardently tried my best
You lay so still as if fulfilled
had I but been someone else

marseillaises

Little windows framing lives
endless boxes piled sky high
Rosey hopes wilt
to dusty pink
etched with rusted
forlorn dreams
The sidewalk teeming
with discarded traces

of love displaced
for a quick fix
parked in the dark corners
of feigned smiles
that barely beguile
enough coins
for cab ride home

lost poem

This poem got lost
amongst your contours
and the careless wink of your eye
It fell into a daze
and sat dumbly curled
in the corner of your smile
long before it could grip
onto the grain of the page
and make images stain
like truths

This poem is just words
gesticulating wildly
snapping into line
when it wished to be gestures
dancing in the margins
dervishly spinning spirals
boring into your core

This poem is a shivering quiver
of doodles to dispel
the fear I’ve yet again
misconstrued
the space around you
to make it mean more
than the emptiness it frames

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