25 February 2012

Street Song 2 (Just Another Sad Song…)

I never did think it would turn out this way,
With you and I so far apart,
But seeing you with another man
Was more than enough to break my heart.
And when I asked you about it when you came home,
After I sat 2 hours in the dark alone,
You had the nerve to lie in my face
That’s cool, know what, take ya shit and get it outta my place.

Just take the broken dreams you gave me
And go lie in the bed that you’ve made
See I’ve heard all of this before
And I ain’t lettin’ you hurt me no more.

Why are you still here, talkin about don’t let it end,
Sayin’ I misunderstood, he was just a friend.
But look witch, somebody musta told you wrong
Because this ain’t no damn Biz Markie song.
Love might’ve been blind, but it ain’t no more,
And all I want is you goin through that door.
I don’t wanna hear no more of your lies,
Like I’ma believe your triflin’ ass over my two eyes.

So I take back all the promises that I made you,
After this even Jesus couldn’t save you,
Cause I’m all done and that’s for damn sure,
Now get your ass on the other side of that door.

Why are you still talking? why is you still here?
I wanna see you walkin and I think I made that clear.
Back up off me, I ain’t gonna touch you so you can call the cops,
Just cause you got caught out there and wanna pull out all the stops.
But I swear on my kids, I’ll never hit you,
I just want you to go so I can start to forget you.
But don’t get it twisted, you got 10 minutes to pack.
Then I’m callin’ out my girl-cousins for the open field attack.

And take these broken dreams you gave me                             
And put them with the games that you played.
And I really hope he has what you lookin’ for,
Cause I ain’t wasting my Love on you no more.

One Million Miles (Divergence)

(You are there and I am here a million miles away)

I tell my ears to ache
Not for your voice or the sound of your coming,
But they do not heed.

I tell my eyes to languish
Neither for your smile nor the sight of your passage,
But they give no regard.

I tell my heart to yearn
Never more for you or for your resonance,
But it does not take note.

I tell my lips to cherish
Not our Love or your endless beauty,
But they do not notice.

I tell my soul not to cry,
I tell these hot tears not to fall,
Knowing that it will, hating that they must,
As we go our separate ways.

18 February 2012

For Mrs. Martin

What follows is something that I started writing 8 years ago. I had been married for 7 months to the day, and my wife and I were out shopping for Desjhauna, who turned 5 that day and Xenia, who was 4 weeks old at that point. (Stop doing the math!!!) I had called and spoken to Grandma that morning and our conversation had not gone well. She was very short with me, almost to the point of rudeness, which was so unlike her. After getting off the phone, I told myself that maybe she just didn't feel well because- she NEVER talked to me like that- and I'd just call her later and check on her. My father called me a few hours later to tell me that she was gone. I never got to make that call. I never got to say good-bye, but most times nobody does, do they?

Anyhoo, we made the drive down from Springfield, MA in a blur. The drive back was a horror story in it's own right, but that's another blog. I remember seeing cousins that I hadn't seen in years. I remember speaking at the service, but not what I said. I remember that it was cold and wet.  But mostly what I remember is the smell of Noxzema from a late night in July of 1978 and I remember putting off a phonecall that, as it turns out, I'd never get to make.

What follows is something that I started writing on the night she died. I suppose it was gonna be what I wanted to say at her funeral, but I never finished it. In all honesty, I haven't looked at it since sometime around February 20, 2004. I present it here, in it's raw unfinishedness, only because it rings so true to me after this space of years and to honor her on this 8th anniversary of her death. 

And because I never made that phonecall, never apologized for whatever I did that upset her.

And because we never really get to say goodbye...


I am a different man than I was a week ago.  Not to say that I am better or worse, just different.  You see my Grandmother died today and I don’t know where home is anymore.  I only now understand that even in the home that I share with my wife and most of our children, she was such an important part.  What she taught me made my home, HOME and made the home she raised me in Heaven.  I remember so many days, so many nights feeling safe, feeling RIGHT because she made it possible for me to.  I am a father now, a husband and as much of a man as I know how to be, I have my own life, my own family, my own house and all the things in it and I know that I have been blessed.  But I don’t know where home is anymore, not with her gone.
See, I still remember her first words to me and my big brother that night in July 1978 that we first met, “Do ya’ll want something to eat?” she asked.  Now if you knew her, especially in the days before she started losing the energy that was so much a part of her, you understand what I mean.  That was her.  It was late that night I remember, I was only 4 going on 5, and the only people around that I knew were my Dad and my brother.  But this sweet Lady, who seemed like a giant back then, and that should tell you how long ago that was, made me feel safe. Made me feel comfortable, you know?  As far as Erik and I knew then, we were going to be visiting her for two weeks and I already felt at home after five minutes.  I still felt at home when I left for the first time 13 years later.
My Grandma was the sweetest little mean old lady you ever wanted to meet.  She had a smile that would warm your heart.  And for me, my brother and sister and various cousins, she had a strap that would burn your butt.  She was a great Grandmother, loving each of us in the different ways that we never knew we needed.  

17 February 2012

Tasting Memories

Shadows of what we were- when we were-
Even now cloud what I am what I do
As I step away from you-and-I-as-one;
The equation that has been my reality
Since we were formed from dust together.
And even though ashes are all that’s left
Of the fire that once burned between us,
I still think about us,
I still think about you;
About you in my arms
About the rain in your hair
About the tears in my eyes
About what we used to be together,
Tasting memories that are sweeter than the truth.

14 February 2012

To A Friend, As the Storm Passes

The laughter and joy of sunshine and summertime,
The freedom of youth
Ant the glory of being the harbinger of joy coming
Are all yours.

The twinkling of the sun is found in your smile
And heaven in your voice.
The stars at night are pale next to your eyes
And your laughter.

It would be better for the world and all in it
If your tears ne’er ran
For when sadness overcomes you, no one and nothing
May remain untouched.

In the times to come, when you are further along life’s road,
Will come the soft rains.
That those crystal drops of innocence would bring
Me to your mind
Is all that I ask.

Slo Blues Time

This is the slo blues time,
when smoke and candlelight show the way
to sensations more sublime
than those we find by light of day.
No longer wrapped in indignant lies,
we meet in soultouch, lip to lip,
breathing desire in breathless sighs,
raising ecstasy in waiting hips.
Tomorrow holds no hope for me,
so I reach for you tonight,
here with only our hearts to see
our souls soaring in flight.
This desire, this throbbing, are fundamental things
as my lips your neck, your shoulder caress
in the first expression of my yearnings,
in these first stages of our undress.

This is the time of the slo and sweet,
tendernesses touching longing as we stroke and feel
each other where lust and night both meet,
kiss each other where desire and fantasy are real.
This is truth on a level beyond our dreams,
existing prior in thoughts, yet always unspoken,
as candles shine on bodies bent in succulent extremes
and slowly flowing with fluids molten.
Tonight no secrets from me are hidden,
I drink the wine of your greatest desire
and feed you of my body, swollen
in anticipation of finding fleshly fires.
We move in a profound manifestation of verb,
your body my focus, mine your friction
as we stretch this moment as infinite as a proverb,
moving toward our inevitable benediction.

This is the slo sweet burning moment,
though we are far east of the sun here where we blaze,
trying to take each other’s tormented torrent,
driving and sending each other sideways and endways and edgeways,
flying starwards, riding the lightning
until pleasure becomes too deep, too much
and we release this wave, bodies clutching and gushing
knowing that rhythm must always come to such.
We shiver in a cloud of our own incense,
spirits singing, returning to flesh in spasms,
adding heavenly colors, rich and intense,
to bodies, joined still, in ecstasy’s poem.
We return to earth, having touched the universe
and heard it sigh, whispering our name
and knowing, now and ever more, our gift and our curse
is that after tonight, nothing will ever be the same. 

3 States of Being

Turn the lights down low...

You exist all within my mind,
My every thought revolving,
Tasting as I kiss the picture of you
That swirls forever in my memory,
Even now as I face you,
I dance you through my fantasies,
All my dreams trailing along.
I remember running across Egyptian sands with you and
Dream of our future each time I hear your name.
All that I know is encompassed in your smile,
The motions of your body,
The lingering taste of your kiss in my mind,
And I am lost in thoughts of you,
Never seeking a way out.
Your existence,
Locking into mine now,
Irrevocably a part of me,
Being my dreams,
Leading my thoughts,
Drowning my mental even as I reach for you.

Turn the lights down low...

Let me talk only to your soul with my soul,
Speaking in Love
To the one who meets with me on Heaven’s plateau,
Weaving a living tapestry on the loom
Of our emotions, the thread our longing.
My heart calls your name in all the languages of God,
Shouting my Love across creation,
The thunder that splits the night
And holds the moon in our regard
As we move soulwardly higher.
We tempest of spirit be,
Storming as we look within each other,
Talking only with our souls,
Repeating words our mouths haven’t learned
But our bodies want to teach.
Speak to me in Love,
The voice of the essence of our carnality,
Our passion, all the mental verses
That have led us to where we now stand,
My Verb seeking the living poem
Flowing form the well of your world,
Word by word, drop by drop.

Turn the lights down low...

Know me, know my body,
My flesh shining in the dark
As I reach for you,
Caressing your perfume with my nose,
Your voice with my longing ears.
Before I ever feel the heat in your touch
I strain my eyes to see your soul dance
To the music of the shadows that bow around us.
I long for physicality,
Bodies in the rhythm of Gods,
Ambrosia flowing, wine pressed
With every kiss, every longing glance
In the moonlight, under starlight
All that I’ve been dreaming of,
Sacrificed as we cast our soma
And rock in embrace.
Bathe me in every drop of your wetness
As we shudder together,
As the spasms begin,
As we touch the edge and spin,
We burn in each other.
Know my body,
Know its touch as it calls for you,
As it stretches forward to pierce this tinted air
And penetrate in turn your sweetness,
Know every touch, every inch
As I slide onto you, into you,
Arching to touch you deep,
Where it hurts and then feels so good.

13 February 2012


I hear these raindrops
Fall, falling
Against windowpanes that no longer
Hold your reflection
Or feel the warmth
Of your breath.
We have much in common
These windows and I;
A shade pulled over us both
Now that you are gone.

But I remember those deeper raindrops,
Running, dripping, dancing
Along a body that was Thunder,
As we felt the warmth,
The wind, the power
Of our Storm.                                      
We made Love like Life,                                                                      
Myriad in expression,
Beautiful like you and I;
Nourishing the gardens of our hearts
When you were here.

I still see those tender raindrops
Rolling, streaming, being
First diamond wine birthed in passion
By your eyes as you blissed,
Later the hot/salt children                     
Of anger, forming the river
That eroded us,                                                     
Drowning our desire,
Washing away all of our promises
And carrying you on.

11 February 2012

Maybe We’ll Be Sky There

It’s easy to remember our days together
(Beautiful like rain)
And hard to forget the nights in each others arms;
(Beautiful like moonlight)
Now that I spend watchful, wakeful nights
(Beautiful like my Muse)
Walking alone under the stars.
(Beautiful, just right)
I feel your smile in the clouds at sunset,
(Beautiful like the lakeshore)
Searching for a hint of your perfume in the breeze
(Where we so beautifully loved)
Longing for some sign from Heaven
(Beautiful like you and me)
To soothe our careless Love.
(Beautiful like blue lights at Christmas)
I’d give all my tomorrows
(On a beautiful winter’s night)
For just one tonight together;
(Beautiful like your sweet arms around me)
Remembering what we were,
(Beautiful like you my Heart)
Dreaming of what we could have been
(Beautiful like me my Love)
And hoping to be together in Heaven.
(Beautiful like you and me)
Maybe we’ll be sky there
And the Love we had and lost
Will just be a memory.
(Beautiful like a touch that’s beautifully brief)
Maybe we’ll be sky there
(Beautiful like you and me)
And this life will be a memory.


“Hearts are tough, Pete.  Most times they don’t break.
  Most times they only bend.”
-Hearts in Atlantis
 Stephen King

Meeting you was like so slowly
Drowning in honey,
Loving the sensation,
My thoughts, my being, saturated by
Sweetness, the growing knowledge of you.
But now, oh now, there is a
Shadow in your voice, an iciness
In your words, pushing away the light
We shared so briefly.
This sudden reticence wears on me,
Haunting my sleep,
Making me hear the headsman’s axe in
Every word you speak, knowing it
Must drop, shattering my desires, yet
Not knowing why;
I reconcile myself to loving what we have left,
And watching it trickle away,                                       
Frozen by this new chill that you
Blow through my soul.
We were made to Love each other in
A time between storms,
And it seems that time is going,
My clouds rising again.

07 February 2012


*Thanks to my good friend J. Xander Garrafa for helping me with the Spanish....

This Lust is systematic.
Your elegance calling to me across creation
Sets my heart racing in your regard, tan ardiente como luz solar.
My longing now a part of my being,
I am in awe,
Sent adrift into autoerotic mastery
Every time I contemplate the delicate lines of your labios rosados.
Every caress I imagine in your honor
Sends me into a familiar dream:
 We dance naked by candlelight,
 My eye tracing every movement of your body
 As I rise in anticipation, sway to cresting need.
 I gather you in my arms, lift your breast to my mouth
 As your back arches in the silent dance of flame.
 This is the slo blues time,
 When all the equations approach infinity
 And all that matters is the heat of your electric velvet rising toward me,
 The conversation of my tongue and your nipple
 And the sweet moisture we both prepare to give.
 My hands dance along your spine as I lower you,
 Tongue tasting the hollow of your neck,
Désir ardent.
 I take you from the vertical,
 Our shadows behind us, as merged as we are meant to be,
 And begin to drink the wine of your being,
 Kissing first your subtle ankles before moving,
 Slowly but definitely, toward your femininity.
 The delicate blend of coral and chocolate,
 Of warmth and moisture,
 Engulf me
 As I open your tenderness and feed,
 Gently letting my tongue learn you,
 Existing only for this moment
Cuando el beso es todo,
 When your moans are all
 When my desire is all,
 Evident in the mixed nectar
 That covers my face,
 That glistens on your fundament,
 That connects this hunger to these bodies.

I can’t step to you with an envelope of empty dreams,
Abracadabra phases and mental gymnastics,
Just my admiration of all the things you are
And the knowledge of my need.
Esta lujuria es sistemática.

04 February 2012

Epitaphs of a Fallen Man

I am
The lucent shadow,
Covering nothing in my darkness,
Warming nothing with my light;

I am
The mute jongleur,
Singing my song in no voice,
Covering my ears from my own silence;

I am
The anesthetic desire,
Filling empty hearts with naught,
Emptying soulward and dying in love;

I am
The unbelieving philosopher,
Shouting from the foot of card-towers of Babel
That there is no God and He exists in all things;

I am
The esoteric parasite,
Feeding eternally of my own materiel,
Never filling a need never named;

I am
Hammurabi abased,
Alexander conquered,
The legacy of Judas
And the uncertainty of Jesus.

I am the fallen man.
And here I rot, even worms must eat.

Evolutions (1)

I met him at the place
where the lines of force converge,
he was singing psalms to the moon.
And his voice was like snowfall by starlight,
silent except in the heart
of my dreams.
“this is my song,” he said, “the song of my days
and of the spaces within and between.”
“Do I know you?” I asked.
“Do you know yourself?” he replied, “are
you a man standing on the path, or are
you the path, or just a blade of grass
beside the path?”.
I didn’t understand but I listened.
“If a child speaks to god who answers?
If god speaks to a child, who listens?
You have come here, following
lines of force, but do you know
who made them?”
“I am a seeker of knowledge,” I replied.
He laughed and it was the sound
of sun’s fire, “but knowledge need
not be sought, it is everywhere
do you seek also the certain night
that follows the day?
Knowledge is the shadow cast by your life
across the sphere of existence,
as certain and as sure as nightfall.”
I thought for a moment as he waited for my reply,            
“I am hungry for life,” I said “and
seek a greater understanding of truth.”
This time his smile was like sun on ice
as he sat under the ash tree beside the path,
“truth is a wave that carries throughout existence.
it is both fundamental and relative.  it is true
that we met here, but did I meet you on your path
or did you meet me on mine?
This is the beginning of understanding.”