A New Year's Wish

i did not have a Christmas wish this year
nothing personal anyhow
maybe something universal
cliché like world peace

there was nothing i desired
i'm manifesting everything i want
i have everything i need
the rest belongs to God

but a new year's wish is percolating
it's not a resolution
although i do feel a diet coming on
it's a tombstone for my past
it's the RIP to my boundaries

Goodnight limitations!

Swept Under The Rug

I feel challenged in loving you,
annoyed to put you in your place.
The one has an empty glass,
the last sip has turned her sour.

(Pause for her harsh words and bitter actions.)

The other has lost his soft-edges.
The recent years seems to have bottled his smile.

(Pause for the slamming door.)

I admit I've had my share of empty glasses,
and occasionally my soft edges turn into quills,
but this constant sweeping under the rug
has caught up to both of them.

Imposition

There was grave importance in his tone
as he typed another vowel on his telephone.
He was most certainly sorry for his imposition,
feeling much discernement in begging for that invitation.

He merely understood that no other chance he might get
if he simply did not ask, and yet,
in return he recieved a riddle.
(Which he sadly could not solve)
"It was just a moment that I wanted, that's all!"

4:45 AM

4:45 am
i can't sleep
i'm not surprised
i'm glossy-eyed
with parched mouth
garlic-perfumed breath
pounding head
a slow pulse
back to bed
i rest my head
in just a moment
it creeps inside
i can't help it
a fantasy
i sink into it

new scene
mysterious setting
darkly lit room
am i alone?
most definitely not
there's a body on the bed
strong arms
adonis' legs
a silhouette
i can barely see
it's so hot here
hey i know that face
hi gorgeous
beat
no words are uttered
but a look
at me
what do you want?
beat
oh
beat
no way
not right now
he moves in
i resist
i'm forcefully cornered
not now i said
his body presses against mine
he's got me against the wall
it's so hard
you want me don't you?
beat
he smiles
nods up and down
a look in the eyes
something's gonna happen
a hunt
i can't escape
he attacks
i run
he leaps
we land
i'm down
beads of sweat
fighting off

it shifts
i'm letting go
gentle now
smoothly caressing
thoughtful and heartfelt
smoothly touching
nothing missed
frisky fingers
subtle body shivers
lips tracing the neck
pillowy kisses
forcefully soft
rubbing
there he goes
in for the kill
a grin
what satisfaction
i bite my lip
a groan
a moan
inside
and out
my back curls
biting the pillow
it's perfection
i can feel it
the saliva
arms holding me down
i know that look well
something is about to happen
sound unleashes
face contorted
eyes squeezing
it's faster
it's louder
it bursts
we collapse in ecstasy
end fantasy

was i asleep?
nope
i'm delirious
did anything happen?
i peak under the sheets
nope
not now
i'm not in the mood
he enjoyed it though

To my Love- A Series of Questions

Hello my love, are you listening?
Are you ready to feel this?
What can I say to you now?
What haven't I already said?
How do I show you the inner-workings of my heart,
without the words becoming dangerous?

Love has made me do the craziest things.
But do you believe I'm trying my best?
(And I know you are too, my darling.
I'm sorry if you feel that I've not taken notice, I have.)

Can you see my journey though,
how I'm attempting to balance it all?
Do you see how I'm trying to not let the moment pass,
knowing that time will rob me of you sooner than later?

You've commited to me, what else can I ask for?
I'm working on these expectations,
believe me it's like walking on eggshells,
sometimes comfortable and other times uneasy.
But you understand expectations, don't you?
You feel the necessity of them,
important for stretching and growing?

Can you stand with me, as I stand with you?
My arms are stretched out for miles,
I hope they've touched you.
So, can I ask you to hold my hand through this?
Don't push me away.
You're my friend, my lover,
someone I wish to lean on.

We both have so much to learn here,
so much to benefit from each other.
If we can conquer the largest of spaces,
can we not conquer this?

Tell me you have read these words,
understood them, understood how I feel.

How do they make you feel?

The Parasite (An Investigation of Jealousy)

Inside my body lives a mysterious parasite,
an uncontainable many legged creature,
multiplying most treacherously.
It is unrefined, without intelligence,
and strikes at the most inopportune of times.
Nature has cleverly placed it there,
creating its necessary balance,
exposing the rawness of humanity.

I make it sound awful, don't I?
It is at times...
I often feel victimized.

The parasite is dangerous to those who fear its potency
and mental chit chat which accompanies it.
The reality is that when the parasite grows we've been blessed-
you could even say gifted.
In actuality, we may have to explore
that it has possibly grown from dillusion.
In stillness, we must listen and watch it reproduce;
without fear, without judgement.

Let me be candid here,
as I reveal something very important.
It may even be hard for you to believe,
undoubtedly there will be questions.
I confess that until very recently,
I have not been alive.
I may have said all of the right things
and added to a list of ego-filled accomplishments,
but I have been a witness to it all.
This has annoyingly stopped me from noticing anything,
including the many faces of this parasite.

And so it grows, freely now, I can feel it,
its name I do not speak.
It is a ball of energy bubbling up in my chest,
a fire from within.
I experience it as movement,
a snake swirling from the pit of my stomach,
moving upward towards my head,
it fills me with the most irrational hysteria.

Without warning it strikes.
Oh how it strikes!
Like a drum in my center,
rattling a resonant timpani in my innards
and filling my temples.
It courses through every vein in my body.

But this is what you see;
a personable smile and soft disposition.
You'll never see how much I am struggling.

Lonely Christmas

it's lonely here
near the snowy mountains
amongst the frolicking wildlife

you wouldn't think it so

this stale hotel
with the broken gage
the temperature we cannot stabilize

no sleep again

yes we've conquered many spaces
but it just isn't the same
right now without you

i wish you were here

Across the Continent on December 23rd

I am on this gigantic bird again,
soaring the continent with hundreds of sorted stories,
seated to my right and to my left.
(There are 6 emergency exits,
all of which I keep a close eye on.)
My eyelids are slowly thickening.
My body's getting heavier,
moving into the dream-time,
floating among the heavyset clouds.

The seat only mildly reclines,
making this journey an annoyingly conscious experience.
Has it been two hours of this?
The lady behind me might snap.
The mentally unstable man just gave her a tap.
This battle I will not address,
I'm too selfishly consumed with trying to rest.

Shit!
I have to pee.
The window seat is not for me.
Of course, the man to my right has the worst knee.
I feel guilty about my incessant bladder.
Asking him to get up twice will be the most unpleasant matter.
I hope Antonio from Italy
can accept my final apology.

Monsters in my Closet

What a chaotic day!
Emotional and physical baggage
of which I’ve carried for months.
Oh, these bags and tags!
There’s been far too much time for me to think.
It's an endless and sharply edged chattering.

I’m in reflection of the weeks gone by.
I’m seeing my monsters for the first time.
My ego is finally getting the attention it deserves;
a candid visual of my darker shades.
There are plenty of grays in this color palette.
It frightens me enough to investigate.

So I dare to ask the questions,
the ones that shoot fire into my bones.
What am I willing to accept?
What am I willing to explore?
When do I draw the line?
I listen silently and gently to not wake the monster again.

A Note Before Sunset

Good evening my darling.
The sun has almost set here.

I enjoyed the ocean beneath my feet today,
the sand between my toes.
My skin smells of the open air
and the sun which bathed me for hours.

I'm thankful right now.
This day has given me great solace,
some time for reflection,
an opportunity for observation.
I'm really enjoying this moment.

I'm safely back in my bed,
before sunset,
before the lights of the stage shine on me again.
I know this much is true;
I'm excited to see your eyes tomorrow,
feel your lips against mine.
I miss them so.

I love you.

A Note Before Sunrise

Good morning my love.
I miss your touch so much.
Right now,
as I lay in this bed,
eyes barely open,
I can't stand this empty space next to me.

Tell me you wish me in your arms,
tell me anything...
something,
to soothe my craving body,
my aching heart.

Initiative - Part 2

It was not a story that I'd created,
it was an expectation that I had.
I foolishly placed it on our situation.
Without regrets,
but I admit,
there was more to be investigated.

I rocked the boat,
not on purpose,
not to prove any wrong-doings,
but with the noblest of intentions.

My wish was to deepen,
to quicken,
to stay fully in connection.

"Too much."

In not so many words.
A feeling,
a tone,
a resonance from within.

He's heard my words,
I felt the lack of his.
Behind it all lies the current.
It saves me from losing courage.

Who takes initiative now,
I'm happy to say,
not I.
I simply shed,
my new skin grows today.

A word from our author... (A Response)

I respond
my love,
to the poet,
the artist,
the author,
the man I've
come to know.

Do not fear,
my sweet,
I have not,
will not,
spin your words.

I recognize
them as your
expression.

Your heart
exposed,
in verses
and prose.

Like you,
with your words,
the tales I spin
are the ones I sing,
not always
belonging to me.

These words,
some are yours,
some are mine,
a few of them
belong to us,
that's fine.

So dear poet,
sensitive author,
"mon amour",
I do not shift
or think them
too far out of place.

I am honored,
I am touched,
to see me there,
in your heartfelt,
in the inspired.

Because this,
my love,
is our relationship.

Initiative

Who takes the initiative if not I?
He certainly hasn't.
It's another game we've decided to play.
It's probably another story I've made up.
I keep wondering if I want to win some prize,
gain some medal for my conviction right now.
With tears on the surface,
and turmoiling spirit.
In time this will shift.
It will move mountains and grow roots.
For now... I simply allow it.
I give it space.

I'm not fully to blame however.
The world has created monsters.
Human kind and its dangerous traps.
Pieces of plastic and wires carefully assembled.
Technology has me consumed.
Temptation with occasional venomous bites.
Waiting for the next vibration.
Was that a beep or a ding?
Oh, is that mine or yours?
Did that come from the radio jingle,
or the car with its blaring gospel music?

It may be simple for others to let it be.
Not for me.

The Morning After

woke up this morning
maybe it was afternoon?
found myself in pieces
with no means of reassembling
at least not yet
the dreams of my slumber still shouting in my ear

i'm barely awake
in my semi-unconscious
too groggy to resist
too tender to touch
fragile

stirs me up inside
the images clearly stamped in my mind
i wish the dreams were sweeter
shifting distortion into rainbows
or delivering good tidings
or awakening some creative gem
but, alas, the images loom and lurk
distracting the morning coffee

who was that girl that i cared for?
simple and elegant
strong and youthful woman
why did she hide our love from the world?
shunning me
shutting me out
only expressing when the world was out of sight
i was her secret
her affair

and i...

i hid our love so terribly
even as she retracted and recoiled
i touched her face and hair so tenderly
without thinking of the barriers
the rest of the world faded away when i did
i could fly with her
i had the power to do everything
it was her gift
it was the power of this connection

all around us were disapproving faces
questions
of which i had no answers

Without Your Love, Mine Will Remain (Matthew's Song)

You choose your words so carefully,
as though you do not feel for me.
You feel that power will save your tears.
You are mistaken.
There is no power in your fears.

I'll give you every second chance,
I understand there's circumstance.
But do not push my heart away.
You'd be mistaken.
Without your love, mine will remain.

Don't push me away.
There's too much at stake.
Don't throw this away.
Don't make that mistake.
Without your love, mine will remain.

You see how what you choose to give,
becomes the choice on how to live.
So closing doors while wanting more,
you'll be mistaken.
Open your heart to what's in store.

I'll give you every second chance.
I really understand there's circumstance.
But do not push my heart away my love.
You'd be mistaken.
Without your love, mine will remain.

-Frederik Robert 2007

Soundscape

What is this which moves me so intensely?
Making my heart beat a mighty percussion
and oceans of saltwater pour from my eyes onto my lap.
Even now it follows me,
resonating itself into my heart,
caressing my soul.

The Observer

he sat in front of me
eyes looking sweetly
suspense-filled breathing
candid anticipation
he is a gentlemen
honest intentions

i observed

i could see it in his eyes
asking for what I simply couldn't offer
not at this time
maybe not ever
appearing understanding
sympathetically intrigued
perhaps a grain of truth in his look

is this another scene
from the playwright
the director
the actor

i observed

i did try to imagine my mouth against his
the moistness of his breath near my skin
his fingers touching my spine
a trail of saliva on my neck
exploring the oral tools of teeth and tongue
into and out of my body
grabbing the back of my hair in anticipation

i observed
giving space
allowing everything
yet, felt nothing

Back to Distractions

Do nothing.
Words from the wise.
I looked down while walking,
the consonants managed to crawl into the ear canal.
I was modestly listening.
What can I say?
I was distracted by the forest,
now an obstacle course of broken limbs.

It took a long moment
before the wisdom trickled into my senses.
Suddenly I was drawn to look up,
igniting the most satisfying of conclusions.
But only temporarily.
More questions...

Alone now,
I put it to the test
by doing nothing.
Is waiting doing?
Is something nothing?
Time for distractions.
Too many to disclose in fact.

Then it comes,
vibrating between my fingers.
Where am I?
I'm seated by my newest distraction,
now my creative dissatisfaction.
So I peek with child-like anticipation.
A sensory overload occurs.
Could it have shifted so easily?
So gracefully?
How short the time from intention to unfolding.

I race back to my distraction,
resuming my masterpiece.
I'm aware of the cosmic forces at work,
natural rhythms giving space.
No longer acting in urgency,
but rather sitting on unfolded hands,
and there was everything.
So I do nothing.

Sleepless Night/ A Curse From My Star Sign

i couldn't sleep last night
my mouth was parched
a slight breeze crept through my window
causing my lips to crack
also forgot to brush my teeth
(consequences not yet seen)
it left a sour taste on my palette

tossing and turning
partially sleeping
dream-filled
deliriously thinking
most of it pointless
some of it a mystery
still unfolding

it's morning now
typical of this city
the clouds will remain
i'm nauseous
i feel the acidity in my gut
my stomach in constant dissatisfaction
a curse from my star sign

it's what happens
time and time again
when sleep deprived
emotionally consumed
physically recharging

surely the coffee isn't helping

My Three Words

I miss you.
Those are my words.
My three words.
They are a longing,
they are experience,
also some of my fondest memories.

I see the words stirring you up,
causing your temperate responses.
I can feel its pressure within you,
forcing you to look deeper,
to abandon the unnecessary.
It sticks to the skin, doesn't it?
It confuses your tongue.
We are the alchemists here,
able to turn words into daggers.

You see,
I'm obligated to ask the bigger questions.
I can't contend that which cowers behind,
or ensconces between fragments of truth.
It's all of it or none of it.
It's a planetary battlefield,
and we are human evolution.
Serving everything in conscious interaction.
Accountable.

Do you see how it isn't just you and I?

This world is awakening;
abolishing the shrouds,
finding power in relationships,
demolishing unnecessary contentions,
dangerous egos capitulating,
extermination of the inauthentic.

I see glimpses everywhere,
even as water pours from my eyes.
The tiny morsels of possibility,
a cellular rearrangement,
sapping the mighty fortress of human righteousness.
I will feel that hand which reaches out without thought,
and be witness to the wars which nurture.

It's the bigger picture you see.

What lives behind my three words.

In Your Arms

in your arms
inside your care
nothing between us
with everything in between

my body deepening into yours
feeling the nerves
your smell staining my skin
your breath upon my lips

we wake and create
another chapter
stirred with the trivial tasks
until the next embrace

what relief
ruled by no one
defined by nothing
from experience
here
in your arms

Reconciling Differences

I'm trembling inside,
turning pages to distract.
Repeating and repeating...
Repeating and repeating...
There's harshness in my eyes,
an inflammation in my chest.
I dare not look up.

Stop!

You don't get it, do you?
I've explained it,
speaking softly,
acting gently,
treading gracefully.
I've even yelled it from the mountaintop.
You're so stubborn,
always right.

My throat is raw and parched.
Listen to my voice as it shakes
and retreats into hiding.
Does that seem fair?
Does it feel simple?
I've been crushing intuition,
forgetting what I know.
Must I say "Time to go" ?

Another hit to the heart,
another blow to the ego.
I've taken what I can.
I'm an artist.
I'm a friend.
I'm only a man.
Still you push.
Wanna win?

So I'll say it...

I MUST GO.

Now we're in it,
eyes filled with water,
heart beating faster.
Now you've done it,
I'm broken down.
Is this what you wanted to see?
A puddle before you?
That's fine,
but let's get one thing straight,
these tears are for me not you.
These belong to me!

Wait?
No?

There you are old friend.
Now we can begin again.

Restless in Carolina

Foreign city,
far away from the recognizable,
yet completely predictable.

Let me be grateful for a moment!

"Thanks for your short brick houses,
your lively trees and growing greenery.
You are the proudest,
aren't you Charlotte?
Salutations to your patriotism,
those generously-sized portions,
and your lack of abortions."

My neck is stiff,
against these pillows,
throat inflamed,
here in this economically-challenged hotel room.
Although friendlier than the last.
Yes, curtains and spreads from the past.
At least we cleared the smell of rats.

And yet here I am alone,
surrounded by you.
Just appearing alone.
(Seemingly to an outsider.)
In my head the wheels are turning,
my insides swirling.
It's a secret world that I take pride in.
Fast-tracking my subconscious,
unmasking my consecration,
my conscious.

My heart isn't here though.
I miss my yesterday.
I smell my fingers to escape.
I'm restless in Carolina.

Tiny Space Between Us

"What is that?"

"It's a tiny space between us.
See how buoyant,
how fascinatingly sponge-like?
How it warms the chest?"

"And this?"

"What?... this?"

"Yes, that?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"It's how I feel about you.
Feel it?
How movable it is,
how sensually shapeless?
Do you see the infinite possibilities?
Do you hear how it vibrates in your ears?
Do you feel it in your lungs?"

"Keeps me breathless."

"Does it keep you awake,
heavily dreaming,
lightly fantasizing?"

"Yes... hardly sleeping."

"Then just hold me tight.
Put your arms around my body.
Kiss my lips.
And end this for both of us."

"But, this tiny space between us..."

"Mysterious isn't it?
Deliciously deceiving.
Just inch your way into it.
Not too quickly.
Stay confident."

"It separates us!"

"No, this separation is imaginary.
Hold my hand."

"I'm scared."

"But you're looking into me now.
Can you feel my eyes?
The pounding in my chest?
This separation is falling away."

"I'm resisting. It frightens me."

"It's simple,
only skin touching skin,
lips pressed together,
a slight wetness on the mouth.
Intimately being,
tenderly touching,
in exploration,
endless possibilities,
embodying imagination."

"It feels so good."

"I know."

Shrinking

What happens now?
What happens to those pieces?
Of you?
And I?

I'm strong and proud
Leader of leaders
Passionately creating
Undoubtedly deserving

Forgive me?

I've suddenly lost myself
I'm soft around the edges
I've melted into adoration
I've shrunk to an unbearable size
Just small enough to be acknowledged

I'm fucked!
Suddenly I'm unrecognizable to myself
I'm unimpressed and unresolved
I'm sick of the undertones
I'm covering my underbelly

I take it back today
I am my reconciliation
I am my remedy

Birthed as Possibility

You with free flight
into the wordless.

Without form or time
the day erased.

I am your confidence
your impeccability in flesh.

I am a solemn promise
your grounded e x p a n s i o n.

Birthed as possibility
formed in relationship.

Inauthentic

they move in slowly
as if shortening the leash
thinking of something
willing to say anything
but really, saying nothing

armed with breath mints
swished in tartar
(masking the putrid subtext)
politely lifting the edges of their mouths
"lips in the upright and locked position"
courteously remaining

commonly regurgitating
purging yesterday's drama
feasting on today's melancholy
toasting tomorrow's resentment

upper middle class men
cigars in one hand
in the other boxed wine
pouring like champagne

gaggles of privileged women
comparing diamonds and furs
feasting eyes on the gold plated cutlery
never daring to eat with it

Goodnight Ruth

hundreds of white pedals
aroma of four years long past
warm memories
familiar sounds
cold circumstances
am I doing this again?
goodnight Ruth

Hello, I'm Shifting

Hello
I'm shifting

I hardly recognize my "self"

Call it creative confusion

Undermined by sleeping consciousness

Assaulted by fear
Sabotaged with thoughts

Understanding yet not trusting

Am I alone, am I fragile?
Really?
Ego, you've pushed me to the edge again

...

Call it what it is
Healthy awakening
Annoying feels more accurate
Neurotic
Growth
Experience - that sounds right!


(Whatever, I'm really pissed off)

Adventurous Soul

It's probably very quiet when the soul leaves,
discreet and uninterrupted.
Possibly laughing as it hovers
eventually realizing its formlessness.
Suddenly leaping to its new cocoon.
A new shell.
Only an adventurous soul would dare.

Some believe we shoot out like a pistol
flying beyond the stars
hastily looking for salvation.
Save me.
RSVP to the angels and saints.
Only the martyrs and good invited.
The sinners united.

The rest of us remain,
tears pouring,
imagining angels weeping.
Celebrating our disappointment,
a real tribute to nonacceptance.
Poignant vignettes of human tragedy,
of men with sweaty palms
and of wasted mascara.

Yet she lies there
no sound she makes,
color on her lips that won't wear-off
neither rubbing or staining.
In that box so confining.
Still smiling.

I know she's an adventurous soul.

It Should be Simpler Now

I threw my coins into the wishing well
and drew a pail of illusions.
I drank from it
swallowing the fairytale
painfully digesting the ever after.

It should be simpler now...

The veil has shifted, perhaps lifted
I see differently.
Adonis is a statue
an immaculate monument
beautifully consumed in fear.

It should be simpler now...

Love and chaos uncovered
revealing the nerve
exposing the innards
shaking the foundation
all seeds will grow.

It should be simpler but yet...