1998

 

i wrap smoke ribbons around my eyes

            . maybe i'll be blind for awhile .

wishing i could take a day off from breathing

'cause i don't wanna play this game today

instead, i would skip stones

across lonely lakes

dream of paperclips

braid my hair into a leash

and hand it to your heartbeat

            . maybe i'll be tied for awhile .

clothe myself only in starlight

and the warmth of your breath

the metal bands clamped tight

around my fingers and toes

give you something

to string me up by

            . maybe i'll be wild for awhile .

dance to rhythms that are not mine

for a time

i'll watch while you buy

designer kindling from street vendors

and weave silk scarves between my fingers

            . maybe i'll be a child for awhile .

close my eyes

and fade to sleep

you will be my lullaby

            . maybe .

Distance (2000)

 

If you take a pencil and hold it out at arm’s length

you can use the eraser to block out the entire moon:

all of it

even when it hangs low and pregnant in the sky

in all it’s orange gold magnificence

 

I tell you this because I need you to understand

how something so small

can obscure something so immense.

 

I was thinking of you

while I listened to the rhythm of the rain on my window

thinking of you

while I wrote out multiplication tables and broke pencils in frustration

 

you gotta realize that how you see things

changes depending on the lens you look through

that windows aren’t any less real because they’re transparent.

 

all that means is that you can see through them.

 

and the greater the distance between point A and point B

the more difficult the word problem becomes

the more distorted the images get.

 

I know now that we’re a product of this new math

simply the sum of imaginary numbers

 

because

 

now we have become

one too many “Kids in the Hall” reruns on a Sunday afternoon

the joke with the perpetually forgotten punchline.

 

didja ever stop
            didja ever stop to consider

that maybe it’s nothing more than air weighing us down

stooping our shoulders

bending our backs

 

nothing like a little atmospheric pressure

to keep us from vacuum induced delirium.

 

and didja ever stop

            didja ever stop to consider

that sometimes all something needs to grow

is a whole lot of empty space

a whole lot of nothing

 

and it’s just too easy to imagine that

when you have that pencil in your hand

and you can’t see the moon

it’s just too easy to believe

that maybe it was never really there

that there wasn’t anything at all here to see,

folks,

nothing to see here

 

if the glass isn’t ground thin enough

it’s easy to imagine

that all there is

is some canned laughter,

eraser dust,

and a so much air

you could never breathe it all.

 

The Children of Einstein and Galileo (1999)

 

The Children of Einstein and Galileo

            (a love poem for poets)

 

I have finally realized that I am

looking for answers in the wrong places

that maybe we all have to get back to the basics

dream of constellations

find the pictures created by melting ice

 

maybe I’m asking the wrong questions

but, tonight

tonight there is something in the air between us

in our quiet conversation, contemplation

sunlight and shadows mix

blend into middle grey

there are clouds forming

between straw & swirling liquid

I am creating

mute music from glass

a soundtrack to set down behind

laughter and strange tensions

 

and maybe

maybe it is already raining somewhere

but stars could be falling

and we would never notice them

my fingers are distracted

occupying themselves folding corners of paper

into geometric shapes mindlessly

if I stop for too long

my thoughts will form unsolvable equations

physics and astronomy

will dance together in my head like fireflies

I will give Einstein a run for his money

 

maybe we should not be so eager

to take E=MC² as fact

why doesn’t anyone ever question

scientific legislators

ignorance of the laws of nature

is not a defense

still, there are so many cosmic questions

I need the answers to

if energy can neither be

created nor destroyed

how can it be that there are sparks forming

on every surface?

 

maybe it is time for us to hypothesize

I am conducting experiments

rolling emptiness between my fingers

creating candles out of nothing

I touch a wick to your lower lip

like a kiss

your words become light

and I realize that

yes

this is how stars are born

 

if we could stay here forever

if we never ran out of words

all of us,

we could give birth

to a new universe

 

 

Redemption (2001)

 

Redemption

 

We are all created by degrees now

Formed from smallest particles

Linked together like chain mail

Fine-tuned as nuclear reactors

And if there has ever been a hand

As we can comprehend the ideal hand

Inside of me, endlessly tinkering

Well, I have never seen it.

 

Then, am I to believe myself blind?

Gouge out my eyes

In hopes of improving reception to divine prophecy?

This is a far cry

From rabbit ears and satellite dishes.

We are searching for better technologies

In our heartbeats

In circadian rhythms of breathing

In a spiritual awareness of each other that

We have, until this moment, been unaware of.

 

And we draw breath

 

I have conjured you like voodoo

To sit here beside me

To speak to me of floods, and falls and

Armageddon

Like we will somehow return to simplicity

Understand the pregnancies of pauses

Prove things that will never have

Proof to stand behind their realities

Hold the ideal hand:

The hand of truth.

 

And in this meeting

Merging

Exchange of thoughts and the science of reason

We will discover a higher power

As neurons fire

And this perfectly imperfect flesh that contains us

Makes the desperately needed connection

Between God and Man.

 

But we are all created by degrees,

And even the best laid plans

Of the very best carpenters

Can go horribly wrong

As a nail punctures the flesh of palm.

You explain corruption as an inevitability.

These are not sugarplums dancing in my mind

But fruit without name.

 

Then, someone called it an apple.

And for a few seconds too long, we believed.

See the fruit I hold out to you?

An uncomfortable mix of familiar and foreign.

I wonder if the weaker man in you

Struggles to be passive

To refuse even a taste

Knowing that it will bring

A plague of regret and repentance

Down to cover us both.

 

Upon being exhumed

Yet another unenlightened universe

Will call us ancient.

They'll get the date wrong.

Will not understand the dichotomy

Of time and ages inexplicable.

We will have become yet another breath

Which is far less than the truth

To a brave new world which needs no more lies.

 

We are all created by degrees,

And perhaps, were this construction not so precise,

Perhaps if I had enough perspective

To shift myself like the formation of mountains,

I would be able to disregard doubt

And view you

As the first in a long line of things solidified and

Absolute.

 

An unintentional touch lights the spark

Of another unexpected connection

And we draw breath

 

 

In this life,

I have become far too heavy for enlightenment.

I've spent too long with my feet on the ground,

Making footprints.

Too busy looking forward to notice

The anachronism I have crushed beneath my heel.

 

Tonight,

We are the only thing that makes sense

In a world that has turned it's back on

Reason.

 

We are all created by degrees:

For the first time in my life

I am struggling to believe that I really do have free will.

If I were stronger, braver, freer

If I were more than just this girl

I would inhale you

Let you invade me wholly

Learn all of your hymns.

 

And when I finally step off of this cliff

Of doubt, indecision, confusion and fear

I will land softly

Feel the cool grass of Eden

Under my bare feet

And be as certain as breathing

That there is always a chance

For redemption.

nightlight (may 2000)

 

nightlight

 

most of the time, I am a small thing

insignificant, incomplete

 

most of the time, I am uncertain

I am afraid

praying under my breath for the world to stop spinning

 

I am dizzy now

 

you and I

we are old souls who have reached a stalemate

I cannot comprehend

because you,

you are sunrise, and second chances and

hot chocolate after a snowball fight

 

you are the net I have become accustomed to

performing without

 

we have known each other a long time now

 

and together—

together we forgo simple linear solutions

in favor of the scenic route

a few extra songs on the stereo

a blaze of glory in the night sky

and this…

 

this is a sensory symphony meant for lovers

this is not for us.

 

we are simply

two lost dreamers flirting with destiny

under the streetlights

two kids playing “house” in my car

and this…

 

this just gives the appearance of motion

 

we are old souls

broken down on opposite sides of the highway

lost in the labyrinths of our own minds

losing meaningless mumbles under the music

tongues thick and heavy with fear…

 

most of the time.

 

but day by day we are discovering the missing parts

and sometimes,

sometimes there is no assembly required

and sometimes,

sometimes we are the generators

the air between us becomes electric

sparks flying from our lips like

wishes we are afraid to make

 

these are difficult times,

but you have come to me in dreams

as a lover

 

do not be afraid

 

I know you already

we are old souls, you and I

and I am waiting for your touch

like Rapture

October 2007

 Lilith

She is wrapped in earth now

Blanketed in rock and darkness

Nothing grows here

Except her anger.

 

Still, it is better than paradise ever was

–        The Garden of Oppression

Lilith had refused to become an inferior

By believing herself one.

 

Rather than submit,

She walked naked into the rain

Never looking behind her.

She would not be the one to invent regret.

 

And she is more beautiful here

Than Adam will ever remember her.

Lilith has found all of her voices

And she has taught herself how to scream

 

Surround herself with her own sounds

As they grow to become her children

Echoing off the stone

In a glorious cacophony.

 

And what else does a women need?

She is complete – she always has been.

The noise is fast and furious around her;

She is breathing it,

 

And dancing with

Ocean waves pounding the backbeat.

She hardly misses the touch of another anymore.

She rarely thinks of what she left behind.

 

Until she tires, thinking of sleep,

And the echoes fade into empty nest.

Then Lilith is grateful for the steady sound

Of the ocean waves against her walls.

 

Because although there is very little that she fears,

There is always the silence,

And the silence

Just might end her.

March 2007

 untitled draft

I don't have much to give you.
I can only offer soft hands,
A patient tongue,
And ears that will never tire of your voice.

But I'm not deep,
Not complicated.
I am nothing more or less
That what you see
But I fear
You think I am hiding in plain sight.

I can't share with your any
Tales of adversity overcome
I cannot reciprocate your sacrifice of secrecy.
My closets are full of cobwebs
Not skeletons.

No, I don't have much to give you.
I don't think I have anything you need.
Go ahead,
Unwrap me down to bones;
I doubt you will find any stories worth telling.

I have had time to grow into my skin.
There is no evolution left in me.
But you, so like the caterpillar,
Still have yet to settle into
What you will become.

So, no
I cannot indulge you in a game of
"My Pain is Worse than Your Pain"
Because I know I cannot win.

Because you are fragile and precious
And I am already far too close
To being in love with you.

Because I know that the compulsion
To pull you into the tight cocoon
Of my tired arms
Will be too strong
For me to resist.

There, I will hold you close until
You emerge
Whole and unblemished,

And then you'll be gone.

I only hope you'll pause long enough
To whisper one last secret
To my broken heart.

I need to know
If the butterfly can remember
How it felt
Before it could fly.