Love-Call (Beyond Hyperbolic Vertex)

I watch you, again,

As your sleeping soul rests,

And I feel my heart swelling

Again with Love for you

Almost against my will.

There is so much I’d pray for

As I stand here,                                                                  

But all my prayers are gone.

I asked God to let me find you and He did,

I sold my soul back to Him,

All my prayers (dreams) gone away,

To have you, and here you are.

If your understanding were mine,

You’d see my heart surrounding you-

This Love is all I have

You are the only Heaven I hope for

So I watch you, again,

As your sleeping soul rests

And long for the answer to my prayers

To answer my Love-call.

Son of Swords

I stand in the dark, under the pouring rains,

While I pray, and the world eats my soul.

My song is all of my roaring pains,

Buried in the shadow of the black totem pole.

All that I used to be is just a memory,

A prayer crashing against the stone ears of devilry

As I long for zero,

Singing my song in chains,

I long for zero.

(Every step is dogged)

I am the son of swords

Born to follow the lines of force

With my blood beating with the swollen words

Written on my soul with no remorse.

I seek the palace and the sonic throne

The Chalice and the broken bones,                               

So I dream of zero

With all my tattered dreams,

I dream of zero.

(Every hour is devoured)

In my lonely tantrums,

When my entire world is ice and steel,

And I am the only sighted man in the kingdom,

I lose my way and cannot feel

The dark kiss of the maelstrom,

The omega sunshine bliss of the atom

So I go to zero,

Holding close to my shattered soul,

I go to zero.

(Every breath is counted.)

Somewhere there is a great black mountain,

Looming under a twilight moon

And under it a great marble fountain

In which I bathe by the light of a wormwood noon.

Call me the lord of pain; call me the king of sorrow

Call me silent apostle, son of mourning on the last tomorrow.

Small Room (A Song in Chains)

In that small room, deep in you,

Is where I sing my song in chains,

A song of Love, once pure and new

Then, suddenly, forever changed.

This closet in your soul,

Through which moved I once so deftly,

Seems, of late, darker and cold,

But I stay because it is all you have left me.

For me Love was ever Energy,

Kinetic or potential, slowed or hastened,

But as you turned away from me,

It became Energy quickly wasted.

So I sing my song in chains

Everlonging, everthinking

Of a Love once true then forcefully changed,

And my place in your heart ever shrinking.

Singularity Theory

With pen in prolific hand could I, at will

Spin worlds and brighten skies,

But mine was not the mighty Hand.

With pen in inspired hand could I, at will

Soothe souls and still tears,

But mine was not the mighty hand.

With pen in eloquent hand could I, at will

Move hearts and bend minds,

But still, mine was not the mighty hand

Nor mine will the will of God;

For it was His mighty hand that removed

Your life from mine

And His will that has

My hand, once prolific, eloquent and inspired,

Forever stilled.

Unrequited

"If I can't see your face, I will remember your smile." 

                                                           ~"You Bring Me Joy" Anita Baker, Rapture, 1986

I cannot this feeling shake:

That I need u.

This thirst slake:

To be with u.

And never did I think

It would be so.

Yet here I am

Taken by u,

My body and mind

Shaken by u,

Knowing that still must I

Let u go.

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.

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...

Granny

2/18/2004

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.  

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.

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.

Raindrops

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.

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.

Bending

“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.

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.

Indian Summer

We ran like the clouds run,

Chasing our shadows across the skin of the world.

And we were gods again,

Lords of all this naturalness,

Racing to outrun the moon.

Time’s face smiled on us and these were ours-

Our days, our nights.

The whole world was these golden days

That stretched between the boundless blue sky

And the sweet liquor of our sweat

.

So we ran,

Ran until we were drunk inhaling Autumn’s promise,

Ran ‘til we passed Summer’s dreams.

And did we sing?

We sang until our throats were raw

And coated with ancestor’s dust.

We’d been granted a reprieve you see,

Surcease from dreams and duties,

A few short hours, here near midnight,

To dive again into piles of red and brown leaves                                     

And to bleed and cry again without consequence.

This was our second chance

And we grabbed it with both hands and ran,

Ran under the sun, ran under the moon

‘Til our hearts must break from the joy of running.

Because we already knew how short summer was,         

These days would be so much sweeter

For their brevity and undeservedness.

We were free again,

Like the leaves falling all around us,

Prisoners of days given unexpected furlough.

And did we drink, did we dance,

Did we love, did we live?

Yes, like they were new to the world.

But all things pass away

And we exist now in twilight

Where the years we spent,

Not for naught, but not for enough, now

Stand between us and Indian Summer

As both bridge and chasm.

Malediction

Here’s to the past,

Glass lifted to the forgotten moments,

All the few, precious mornings

Spent loved and loving,

Nourished by passion, fed by desire

And always soulhungry

For the repast promised in your eyes . . .

Here’s to the past,

Quaffing the waters of Lethe now

Instead of the ambrosia of you,

All the sweet, fleeting ‘noons

Spent loved and loving,

Learning the equations of taste and touch

While I studied the lessons of your heart

For the key to my own

And drank deep

Of the nectar of your smile . . .

Here’s to the past,

My toast in memory of summer breezes

Wafting on the far end of the corridors of time,

Still carrying your perfume,

All the deep purple eves

Spent loved and loving,

Smelling the jasmine in your hair,

Inhaling the mathematics of your femininity,

The scent, the halo, the sunset, the shadows

Filling my lungs, filling my lungs

With the incense of your being . . .

Here’s to the past,

Inebriated, seeking solace in the lavender wine

Of memory, respite in the bottom of the bottle,

From these dream-ghosts that haunt my soul,

All the dark midnight hours

Spent loved and loving,

Knowing the sweet taste of your embrace

And loving the knowledge,

Every thought your touch,

Every touch a dream,

Every dream a fantasy, fleeting and soulful

As my mind dripped with liquid revelries of you . . .

Here’s to the past;

The mornings before this forced fast,

My heart rumbling with pangs for you;

The noontimes before this drought

That dried all of my equations;

The evenings not polluted,

Not covered in the dust of distance;

The nights, oh the long, long nights                                             

Before all knowledge of you was taken,

Before all my soul was shaken,

Before I learned how dark my world is

 Without you in it.

Altered States

It was twilight when I saw you,

I remember I was standing at the edge of the world;

We dance there in memory

With ice and moonlight to accompany us.

And it was gentle then

Those days those nights these remembrances

Of you, in my atmosphere, splendid,

I, in your ocean, radiant like stardust.

We dance there in memory.

Set on by chance by forces by waves of light,

Drawn together by strange attractants

Into these altered states

That send our heads spinning.

I feel it felt it knew it know

That there was power there, though ephemeral,                          

Your soultouch was undeniable

And gentle.

And though we go our separate ways,

We dance there in memory,

With ice and moonlight to accompany us.

Fool's Paradise

I lose myself in our midnight hours,                                                                                                  

Soul reveling in your atmosphere,

Refreshed in the sustenance of your smile.

Rebirthed in your rainshowers,

I hear the thunder contained in even

Our quiet moments,                                                                 

And the silence in our passion.                         

Kisses, sweet like April’s moon,

Are ours to imbibe

As these golden days pass,

Flowing all easy like Heaven’s afternoon.

It is in you, with you, that my mind rests,

My heart breathes

And the tension that defines my existence

Is unwound, however briefly.

Your voice drives me,

Filling me like the Light in your touch,

Warming my soul-garden.                                                                                

So, before I lose you to the years and miles,

Before your life from mine disappears,              

Let me just rest here awhile, basking,

In the fool’s paradise between earth and your smile. 

fin del año

“I had not known the sudden loneliness of having it vanish,the moon in the sky of dawn.”

                                                      -The Tale of Genji

This is the death of the year,

These last, precious days when

All my world is the silence of snow

And memories of you, slow as if covered by ice.

These are the last days of my recollections,

The final thoughts of late kisses and midnight dreams.

Every day, all hours, each second that passes

Burns you indelibly onto my soul

With a heat the ice of this world never cools,

Just this cognac shall never warm me

As fully or as completely as you.

These are the last hours,

Soon what I am shall be no more;

The substance of these words less than

The memory of a snowflake while

Nestled in the bosom of June.

I cherish the nights made nutritious by your smile

And I long to regain August while in the heart of winter.

Stretching each hour, always aware of the passing seconds,

I lick the face of my watch to taste the essence

Of the times we spent loving,

Of all the words between us,

Of every passion we ignited,

Every dream we gave birth to.

But this is the death of the year

Spring’s promises and summer’s heat

Gone just as surely as autumn’s leaves,

And your hand gone forever from mine.  

Last Night

I stood at your door in the rain, last night,

Only wanting to end the pain last night

Too unsure to ring the bell,

Scared of the story my heart wanted to tell.

A story of a man, a woman and careless Love.

So I just stood there, tears mixing with those from above.

I remember the cops the argument the fight

The anger I felt driving away that night,

Away from the family I thought I was gettin back

Away from the future I thought was on track.

Remember how you asked, this time, not to let

Pressures and problems between us get?

Yet here we are not speaking again

Not lovers, not family, not even friends.

I don’t know if these wounds will mend

And I don’t know if this time the silence will end;

All I know is that I stood there in the rain last night,

Only wanting to ease the pain last night,

Too sad and loving to keep away

Too proud and lonely to maybe stay,

And too unsure to ring the bell

Scared of the story my heart wanted to tell.

“And ever has it been that love

 knows not its own depth until

 the hour of separation.”

Kahlil Gibran

The Prophet