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What are you waiting for?
Consummate Eclipse
Have you ever let yourself taste it?
Truly devour its consumption of you
as sensations heighten to a point
so acute that you never felt less blind?
You hid with me in plain sight
where our knowing hands
learned each other anew.
Not even the moonlight
was welcome this night
for it could not guide us
better than our senses;
hungry for something newly ancient.
Your inky fingers used the jet blackness
as body paint leaving not one single
blank canvas forsaken.
Our voices could not have said more
than the sounds of each welcome abrasion,
or the battery of silence accompanying each held breath,
so our mouths did everything but speak.
I hold that memory of you in perpetuum
for it confirmed my long held belief that
one should never be afraid of the dark.
Stripped, a Haiku
Sweet unfolding.
Willful yet vulnerable.
With you I am…stripped!
Speed of Sound, a Haiku
I wonder how far
reverberations travel
screaming in silence.
Achilles' Heel, a Haiku
Enraptured by your
potent aphrodisiac.
My Achilles' heel.
Getting Here
How did this happen?
How did I get here?
I have slept many times
during my waking hours,
but have never been more aware
than when REMs force me to see
behind closed lids, tearing the roof
off of the auto-filter.
Movement is perpetual, inevitable,
even in the self-imposed prison of
the willingly comatose.
Silly childish games we claim to have abandoned
are just wearing camouflage now.
We laugh when tots cover their eyes so certain
that you cannot see them.
Are we any different?
Ahh, the more things change...
No! That is just another blindfold.
Ludicrous to wear a blindfold when driving, right?
Quick we are to point out the folly of such an act
as we endure the never-ending craving of being
in the driver's seat of our lives, while we back seat drive
our excuses and justify our side seat views.
There was ever only one occupant, one pair of eyes
in that rearview glued to the road behind.
Then we are absurdly shocked as we arrive at aimless destinations.
The shortest distance between two points is a straight line
but I always fail the sobriety test by being intoxicated
with the lethal combination of doubt and fear.
It always has me flit around like a drunken bee without a purpose.
But as with any other addiction, the 1st step is acknowledgment.
So wherever I am I will earn that my mind's fingertips drew the blueprint.
And now I can embrace the detours, scenic routes and breakdowns
as necessary creations to allow myself to adopt this highway as my own.
So yeah, I am taking the wheel and I got here.
I hope to see you there.
Bedside Manners
Enter via conveyor belts
disguised as stretchers.
Hmmm, stretchers.
No relation to the rack, I hope.
Another slab of meat
looking to avoid the freezer.
Convinced zombie-like qualities
are prerequisites to work
at this noxious factory.
Antiseptic fumes attempt to
mask the actual lack of hygiene.
Same as spraying perfume
when you are out of Lysol.
Various contraptions are your
constant companions that are
often more animated than some
of the walking corpses passing
for nurses, attendants and doctors.
Their affinity for humanity
flat lined long ago.
Your attempts to reclaim
your rightful place in the human race
are just pitiful pleas having all
the resonance of those blasted
machines, not needing recalls
half as much as the staff does.
Fall not into distress for those
exceptions will remind you
why you want your heart to
continue its rhythmic dance.
They will touch you with warmth,
compassion and dedication.
The perception of these precious few
is not working in a factory
processing living tissue.
They honor their desire to heal,
their manners always at your bedside.
Crossing Thresholds
Written expressly for my little brother, Nicholas
Hard knock on the door.
Point of no return has come.
Welcome to manhood.
Come Back To Me
I have spoken to you for ages,
held you for eons, and
kissed you for centuries,
all in the span of a few seconds,
minutes, hours each day.
Each day my amnesia resets
as loneliness clouds the memory of you.
Not for long as you traverse space and time
to visit the playground of my dreams,
knowing it is there I leave the gate
unlocked and ajar.
My spirit awaits without question
on the swing for you to push me,
on the slide for you to catch me,
and on the see-saw for you
to bring me the rise and fall that matches
my breath at the sight of your smile.
I then awake with love's battery recharged
so that during my sleeping hours
of consciousness I may take the wheel,
driving home to your doubts that I am here;
ever listening for your voice
and whispering in your ear
that we need not ever despair
during our physical separation.
So hold fast my love to what cannot
be measured or seen as we repeat
our blessed litany of "Come back to me".
The day will come when our gazes
lock to only a code we know,
our footsteps cruise controlling
toward a predestined dance.
It will be here our familiar smiles
only known to us settle on our lips
before we can finally say
"It is so very nice to meet you...again".
Macabre Embrace, a Haiku
Its serpent's vice grip
won't let you breathe air of hope.
Helplessness hisses.
Nature's Refugees, a Haiku
Nature creating
refugees who cannot flee
as we do headlines.
