Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Spring is in the Air

So many casanovas
of so many kinds
and styles
their smooth words
tumbling out
of seemingly giving
generous mouths
they get me
every time

And I see you

Not clutching for our beauty
and secret treasure
but yearning to see us shine
content to bask in our rays

Your glint and gentle flash
not devilish to steal and burn
but a spark
setting me aglow
and I beam
as I catch
your pure offering


How could I get it
so wrong?
feel so much
so soon
so strong

I won't
chastise myself
for trying you on
seeing if you'd fit
and move with me

And just because
you're blind, dumb
and you can't see
or feel
doesn't mean I'm
not me, terrifically
and I really do
have chemistry

The blade you wield
is sharp and concealed
but I'll toughen
my Shell
so you'll only spill
a tiny bit of
cap refill

One or two
seconds will pass
and no trace
will remain
of where you pressed
up against
my frame

No three layer closure
with repair
is necessary here
let's call it
what it is
a graze, a nick
an abrasive abrasion
a superficial laceration

An occasional fall
with bump or bruise
can't be avoided
as part of the deal
just let me rest and heal
regain the balance
I hold so dear

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Beach Day

I want to worship You
just like that tree
beautiful and strong
just knowing how to be

No shame in a
broken branch or three
Bird poop here or there
that's the way you're
supposed to be

Grooves in your trunk
branches flying high and sprawled
You nurture and are nurtured
provide comfort and shade
you soak up the sun

You take in and
give out
sheltering other creatures
but by your very nature
you shelter your own roots
so you can continue
to be
thick and fat
trunk planted wide
spindly branches
leaves long and lithe
you are all strong
and blythe

Thursday, June 15, 2006

In Response

I read your words
see them
white on black
staring back
and marvel

at your honesty
at your pain
pain I never knew about
but guessed at
deep wells
of suffering
from which you
have risen
born again, coming forth
new and strong

And your fiery pit
has many sides and shades
corners and crannies
players and witnesses
defendants and plaintiffs

I envy
you not being shackled
or muzzled
not afraid to
plumb the depths
of your own depravity
telling the whole
ugly and incriminating
without fear of judgment
and recrimination

Letting those lessons come
cloaked in darkness
or light
you enter the waiting embrace
knowing the pardon
has long been
GRACE abounds


Sweet discoveries
so long ago
all wet pleasure
so pure and young

And I begin
to bear witness
to all that
you are and
will be-come

"I has a button"

Your wonderment
a gift
to reverently unwrap and savour
protect and cherish

What other response
is possilbe
but simple
the first
of many
of the wonderful creation

that you are
however it is t
hat you came

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

On the FRINGE of the B contour

So finally
I know
what the problem
has been
all this time

The signal's
not strong enough
there's no
external antennae
the receiver is
generally fucked up
or something is fucked up

His words rang out
like some
absurd truth
"You're on the fringe of the
B contour"

Yeah, I shoulda
I'm on the fringe
of something
on the fringe
in the frey
on the fraying edge
and falling apart

But now
this is too much
an old (and boring) one
a blind (and dumb) one
an unkept (and insecure) one
an unavailable one (without insight)
and then the unfaithful one
(with boldness) rears
his ugly head again

And I'm listening
and sensing
so the reception
can clear
the picture can
come into focus

I'm ready now
for the happy part
the poems
full of love
and ecstatic epiphanies
but maybe
insight and focus
come in the
dirty images
maybe happiness
is the noise that
clouds and crowds out
the clarity

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Sight Seeing

Are they bluffing
or is it the real thing?
as she sits atop him
thighs panting

And my task
of smoothing and rounding
out the edges
seems so mundane

Do you remember
the days
when you'd kiss him
at a red light
(every red light)
or on the beach
oblivious to envious eyes
uncomfortable stares

And it didn't
have to go
no destination
(that you were willing
to acknowledge)

tongue on lip
drawn out
for the sheer pleasure
of carnal contact
corporeal connection
nyama con nyama
all proxy acts
waiting for my day
of surrender

The morning after

You don't know
I danced naked
before my mirror
the morning after
arms flying high
not a practiced meringue
or salsa
or cha cha
but hips swaying
all the same
wondering if I could
ever dance this dance
with you? for you?

And a stranger's
unsolicited words
stab me deep and hard
his critical stare
at my flaw (or is it a scar?)
has me reeling
once again
knowing I've not
the expectations placed
on all of us
and once again
I fall short

I search for clues
a way of hope
your simple grace
your giving thanks for
a greater GRACE
and I wonder how I will proceed

I will need to ask
for every ounce of
that precious grace
extended over my
head and heart
and mind and soul
and pray you get it
you've been there too
or some other equally dark
chasm of depair - rescued
only by that same
irresistable GRACE
for which we give