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."