Sunday, April 26, 2015

Bedroom Eyes

Aren't you tired?

my love...

of peering down from those turrets of stone?

safe.

But alone...



Aren't you weary?

peasants and lambs...

strutting peacocks brilliantly boastful.

boiling oil at the ready...

arrows that could split hair.

aren't you tired of quiet discontent

but not defiance or dissent?



aren't you tired of fear?

of not touching, but gazing at your beloved.

at all the would-be beloveds

from holes chipped in six inches of plaster

vision impaired by the fibers of poorly woven bandages?



aren't you drained by always being right?

held tight in the center of that globe

watching the rest of us

merely particles swirling about,

decorating your space?



aren't you wasted from pouring your feelings in a bottle

cabinets overflowing with cold, sealed glass.

of telling those same stories

over and over? the same film replaying in every matinée in your mind...

the taste of only those words on your tongue

the sounds familiar (too familiar?) on your lips?



aren't you bored of projects? Projection instead of connection?

text instead of touch

art as only an expression of loss...

buried sorrow.

wrapped in humiliation.

instead of joy mixed with those tears.

celebration and adoration!



aren't you exhausted from running

throwing caution into the wind without a care for the hearts in your hands?

the chaos you return to when that pack grows too heavy?



aren't you spent from the same blank checks... the judgmental eyes

overtaxed by the unnecessary tears?

whispered voices of reason hoarse

stuck on repeat all these years?



aren't you distressed by those ropes loosely holding you?

and can't you see there is no knot?



who would you be

were there no need

for feeling the rails on your back

screeches perpetually lodged in your throat

is it a charming rescue you endlessly await?

or release under the wheel of Casey Jones?



aren't you worn from clinging?

to that pacifier

...soiled stuffed toy

faded and torn blanket

so safe and secure?



aren't you weary of being fed by a newsfeed

facing a wall instead of faces?

voices lost in endless space?

speaking and preaching into an abyss

caught in a web

connected, but stuck...

lethargically awaiting death.



aren't you fed up with stuffing your face and padding your heart with fast foods

a disposable man in a disposable world?

wrapped in rejection,

smothered in self depreciation,

lathered in bacon fat?

resigning to dull moods.

sex as pornographic crude.

the world done me wrong

the blues tuning in every song...



getting off and merely taking.

no chance of being crushed...

or breaking..

half heartedly faking...

a poor match for opening up... letting in.

for love making...



aren't you fatigued from channel surfing instead of riding waves of ecstasy?

gazing out across beverly hills instead of breathing in mountain tops?



substituting ritual and routine for exploration of the spaces in between?

applying only rigid method to seeking evidence of the unseen

dismissing the magic of all this wondrous universe.

self-righteous disbelief in mystery... how time flies....

don't you miss the awe and tiny miracles of your childhood eyes?



aren't you tired of clean hairless sofas instead of warm purring laps?

dry faces instead of loving kisses?



aren't you sick of the cure?

done swallowing mouthfuls of bullshit?

capsules to rid you of all these pesky emotions?



aren't you tired of settling for less than

pulse racing, heart soaring, soul growing, mind expanding, sweat dripping, body merging...melting, blissful touching...

reaching for SOMETHING?



aren't you run down from always being the chaser... never chased?

or was it vice versa...



movie screens? same old scenes...

heartless machines...

missing dreams.

steady monochrome stream...

aren't you tired of lies?

head in a fog?

sleep in your eyes?

a life lived painless? effortless...... stainless.

but loveless?



we are more than our patterns... more than our slumbers



in a world so uninspired.

my love... aren't you tired?



Saturday, April 11, 2015

A Wondering Wanderer.

1:30 A.M.
another sleepless night.
I wonder many things about who I am...
always.
tonight I wonder who I am to you.
I need no labels, no names, nothing really...
friendship is a blessings in and of itself
but I wonder all the same
if my confusion is mine alone or if you bear the same burden?
I wonder what you think when I cross your mind.
I wonder what you thought when first your eyes touched mine many moons ago...
I wonder if the same warmness, kindness, and unbelievable strength radiated from my eyes.
I wonder if your poetic heart sang one quick but beautiful note as it did when you met that girl who loved you and cut you so many worlds away from today... perhaps not, as I fear...
Or perhaps you'd forgotten how to hear?
I wonder if the same hint of unsureness that comes from hurts buried deep and wounds left unhealed by another's kisses also whispered quietly in my shy sweet smile.
I wonder if you noticed my quiet confidence waver for just a moment?
I saw yours... even from across the road.
I wonder if you look forward to those momentary glimpses of my face, my world, as I do yours.
If you smile and flutter at those dozens of little bells that chime most days with my name on them as you go about your life, and I mine.
I wonder if you also think I am more lovely and wonderful each passing day... even with the imperfect spots... the blotches, the bricks and stones, sticks and bones,
the cracks and tears, the misplaced fears...
I wonder if you were available... if I would have botched things terribly already, as I'm convinced I have so many times before when I let lurking insecurities beat me over the head and drag me back to their dark caves...
I wonder if you ever will allow yourself... or me... that possibility?
or if its more than just a security blanket you sleep beneath...a functional facade.
is it socially obligated arms length... are there stronger chains?
is this glass between us the window of your home?
your bedroom mirror?
a bell jar around your heart?
or my rose-colored glasses?
I don't want to own you OR owe you...
but I'd really like to KNOW you.
and I wonder if I'm brave enough to even show you...
to let you see...
all these fragile and twisty turvy parts of me
I wonder if I know how to be anything but alone
I have had only me to walk beside for so long...
and yet HERE it is... despite my pain, my fear, my shame .... I am open.
Here are my veins... do we bleed just the same?
Am I worthy of your heart... your art or flow charts?
I am here.... in the dark... staring at a screen. Where are you?
I laugh out loud to sooth my nerves, because maybe I shouldn't.... but sometimes I can't help myself... I wonder what your arms would feel like around me... if your hands are strong from caressing those strings... what your skin would feel like under my fingertips... and what it would be like to whisper "goodnight" in your ear with my lips... instead of my tired thumbs.
I wonder how long I will let myself wonder before I wander on my way...
and I wonder if you would even care if I did...