All the poems...
Lluvia de Mujeres/ 3
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her long locks, blowing on the ocean breeze
I imagine her yoga moves, her head between her knees
I imagine her loving look taking all of this in
I imagine her smile as she jumps in the sea for a swim
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her converted van, her little dog and her Hawaiian tan
I imagine her fleece and her blue flowing dress
I imagine the sweetness of her soft caress
I imagine she sees me here so far away
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
...................................................................................................................................
................................................................................................................................
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her long locks, blowing on the ocean breeze
I imagine her yoga moves, her head between her knees
I imagine her loving look taking all of this in
I imagine her smile as she jumps in the sea for a swim
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her converted van, her little dog and her Hawaiian tan
I imagine her fleece and her blue flowing dress
I imagine the sweetness of her soft caress
I imagine she sees me here so far away
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
...................................................................................................................................
Not the kind used with a bomb
but the one that explodes in a whisper
delta girl what do you know of whiskers?
You shaved a clam, perhaps some legs and an armpit or 2,
but what do you know of beards and moustache and whiskers?
I admit I don't know much mascara or eyeshadow or lipstick, I don't get cramps monthly
so how can I KNOW?
You would expect me to be you, to know what you want me to do, to be, to pretend.
I haven't a clue about you, and after so long one would expect at least a list of what she is.
But my terrorist baby, driving away in her carbomb, leaves me empty, not shattered.
She turns me to words that live in your eyes. But do either of us have a clue, really?
So I say to you, not negotiating here just saying
you should know better, I should know better and we don't.................................................................................................................................
The sky lightens, no birdsong accompaniment
but darkened forms against the somber grey
move gently in the breeze.
My love sleeps, while my dog barks
and the screen in front of my eyes burns cold.
I get up from my chair, open the door and urge a silence on the dogs.
The amber lamp on the roads edge burns orange against a violet sky,
the first songs are heard.
Mornings have I known, so cold and unfriendly dawn
but not these days.
So much is this ode, so little in the day
so little is the day, so little that it needs be followed with eternity
and a hundred years of mornings, silvery and fresh as dew
and a hundred years of mornings to be spent with a friend like you.
....................................................................................................................................
Loving women. I loved A woman for more than 40 years. That meant certain
restrictions on my ability to befriend women. I did not mind. I loved
my wife dearly and honestly all my life with her, I love her memory now
as much as I did
her. But I cannot commune with her. I cannot kiss her. I cannot hold her or converse with her, I can't ask her about herself anymore. I used to rely on her for all that and more and I gave all that I could that she asked of me.
Now I have many friends who are kind and decent women. They care for me, in all the ways they perceive me as unable to. They cook, they clean, they converse and they enjoy my company. They call and check on me, they bring me things and think of me...I am truly blessed. I find this love most enjoyable...and yet, there remains in me a longing to find HER, like my wonderful Carla, a woman beyond my expectations, a woman I have no restraints against, no mask to hide my face from her, no other to have to demure to or think of, just she who makes my days and nights without concern for what is "too much love". She who would look at me with eyes that see my goodness and love me for my humanity...
Perhaps it is too much to ask. Perhaps I should rejoice and give thanks that my needs are met and the faces are sweet and many. Perhaps. But am I capable, honestly, of not wishing she would come into my world, that she would be my dream and reason for so much beyond just me...just one woman, just that one I KNOW is out there, wanting me, waiting for me...
her. But I cannot commune with her. I cannot kiss her. I cannot hold her or converse with her, I can't ask her about herself anymore. I used to rely on her for all that and more and I gave all that I could that she asked of me.
Now I have many friends who are kind and decent women. They care for me, in all the ways they perceive me as unable to. They cook, they clean, they converse and they enjoy my company. They call and check on me, they bring me things and think of me...I am truly blessed. I find this love most enjoyable...and yet, there remains in me a longing to find HER, like my wonderful Carla, a woman beyond my expectations, a woman I have no restraints against, no mask to hide my face from her, no other to have to demure to or think of, just she who makes my days and nights without concern for what is "too much love". She who would look at me with eyes that see my goodness and love me for my humanity...
Perhaps it is too much to ask. Perhaps I should rejoice and give thanks that my needs are met and the faces are sweet and many. Perhaps. But am I capable, honestly, of not wishing she would come into my world, that she would be my dream and reason for so much beyond just me...just one woman, just that one I KNOW is out there, wanting me, waiting for me...
....................................................................................................................................
I don't intend to send this but i sit here writing it
I am wrestling, if it were but Jacob's angel
then the task would be only a challenge,
I am wrapped in coils, I am surrounded
by my self, and with myself I encircle me
My head under my arm, my leg in a twist
half Nelson of emotions wringing me
and an anaconda too...
It is not good for a man to be alone
especially if he wraps himself in coils
that suffocate him, slowly.
It is not the Good
for a man to be alone either
How can it be good? Look around you,
we're reproducing like there is no tomorrow
and we all need someone to talk to
and 8 billion souls that all struggle
that all wrestle, that all wrap themselves
in these mortal coils
in these mortal coils
Lluvia de Mujeres / 2
Wow. Snow. Yikes.
Cold. YIKES.
Come here, I'll warm
your toes on my tongue.
You have a doubt,
let me
bury my nose in your
skin
and
smell you to the
bone.
I will sniff it out
and place it in the
bin.
I love your wrinkles
because I can’t see them.
Your eyes twinkle
and shine too bright.
This incredible
gift, your love light.
For me to use when I
find myself
alone in darkest
night.
I remain in love
with you, she wrote.
I guess I will just
have to see how long
I can remain tied up
like this.
Morning sounds like
mourning
Delight sounds like
Thee Light
In the morning
you’re delight,
in mourning You’re
Thee Light.
Today you are
madness, trembling and shakes inside and out. You have blasted my
exterior clean of all the moss and pain that had become my second
skin. I am raw, pink new skinned and in the wind of desire I am blown
away again, wanting only your presence, your hand in mine, your
touch...
................................................................................................................................
As a farmer, I can
say...it's all shit and death and rot!
But my love is that
and MORE!
She fertilizes the
ground of my being
she enriches me and
makes my mushroom grow
she infects me with
my mortality
my time here is my
time her.
...................................................................................................................................
Waiting
is not
what it
appears to be.
Waiting is not the
empty space,
the presence of
absence,
the longing and
yearning
of her place filled
by
the being of her
body
the void
devoid of any sense
whatsoever.
Waiting
for her is filled
with the memories
of time spent
together
the smell of her
rose skin and sweetness of her voice
the mystery of her
whispers in the dark
the embraces and
kisses and caresses
shared
My arms
locked tight
around her torso
the way she likes me
our tongues pressing
to discuss the depth
of our love and
passion
her heat sweating me
to a puddle
Before she comes to
my side, while she is underway
she is a fullness
almost unbearable
an extension of
myself to the furthest reaches
of the universe
pales
by her expansion of
my very self to
the limits of
loving.
Waiting
for her
is not a hollow
it is not a space of
doubt and need
I wait for her in
gratitude and will wait
until she seeks my
hands again
ending our waiting.
She spends her day
playing at the silver fern,
masked in modern
hijab, her veiled face hiding from the frigid northern winter.
She walks, she sees
, she notes the passing fray and lovingly stays to record the
spectacle.
This woman, this
pioneer, this angel afoot, this unshed tear. I wait for her arrival.
I wait for the sun
to shine on metal, I wait for her wandering sojourn, I wait for her
on the 28th
In November, on
February’s last date, mirrored valentine hearts in winter,
rosy cheek and lip
in somber day
bring Spring,
crocus, bring blue bells and shorten this night
for she keeps me
waiting as seed in soil awaits warming rays.
I am swollen,
I am full,
I am breaking good,
I am promise,
I am promised
“A life of virtue
will never eat you up or leave you angry or hungry”,
she takes my words
by the hand and leads them down the aisle.
Unrequited/ 2017
Quick and sloppy,
where no reply was needed...the difficulties of what
you face make me feel so small and irrelevant. I knew your life would
not let you go easily, it could not.
you face make me feel so small and irrelevant. I knew your life would
not let you go easily, it could not.
I am willing to let
“us” wither on the vine . Not all flowers bear fruit, and I
know that what gift you were, you may not be perennial and if you
should come around again, it would be discovery of a new bloom of a
familiar rose.
know that what gift you were, you may not be perennial and if you
should come around again, it would be discovery of a new bloom of a
familiar rose.
I make no claims on
you. How can I? And to think you
would worry about being my shadow? I'll have none of a woman who would
walk in my shadow...I have learned the proper place for the man is
behind and to the left. On the curb, where he can be kicked if need
arises.
would worry about being my shadow? I'll have none of a woman who would
walk in my shadow...I have learned the proper place for the man is
behind and to the left. On the curb, where he can be kicked if need
arises.
What the lady wishes
is hard to discern, for her as well, that
is why a woman's prerogative is to change her mind.
is why a woman's prerogative is to change her mind.
I have never been good at such luxuries.But I do what the lady wishes,
always. I am a practical man, and despite your experience of me, I am
not prone to offer myself to any woman.
What I feel is quick
to be
recognized, but that does not mean I am unfamiliar with this feeling.
If you feel otherwise, or if it is a conflict or so much to be
balanced and maintained and reconsidered and maybe'd or maybe'd
not...I won't burden you with any of it. I remain me. I wait. You
become who you must already be.
recognized, but that does not mean I am unfamiliar with this feeling.
If you feel otherwise, or if it is a conflict or so much to be
balanced and maintained and reconsidered and maybe'd or maybe'd
not...I won't burden you with any of it. I remain me. I wait. You
become who you must already be.
...............................................................................................................................
She asked me today
as always
unexpected
now I am up, set
for the life
of a cell.
Stems
A new life
precious as a baby
a promise to endure
devotion without
alteration
for better or for
worse
love’s the name
for this
marriage, the bed
for this
when two hearts meet
and true minds
greet.
Where two hearts
beat as one
there is only One
She asked me today
as always
I expected
not this smile.
I am set for life
with her.
.....................................................................................
Into
the deep blue of a night sky
pour
my lone soul
and
let the four winds blow these feelings to
her.
Ask
the magic of the moons caress
and
the sparkle of stars
to
change the forlorn to a smile,
plant
on her lips this kiss I can't give
and
fill her heart with all I long to say.
Send
raven clouds
direct
and swift as sparrows,
to
wing my missing joy
by
her bedside a day away.
Awaken
her with the smile I save
for
her
beautiful
face.
Great
wheels race,
take
this
melancholy,
enraptured
of darkness,
and
speed the distant moment of return
nearer
to this place
where
separated
lovers
meet.
Mantle
dark,
which
blankets many a sad lament,
take
this weight of waiting,
lift
it to the void,
for
my strength can only bring it to me
on
this wrinkled bed which
sags
in the spot
where
she would lay.
Throw
off this cover,
and
rend these stifling sheets,
urge
the breeze she keeps
to
wrap me
instead
and
air this space
of
silent refrain for the voice that
makes
my days.
Deepest
blue of this dark nights sky
send
light,
a
dawn,
to
shine on me
while
she sleeps
a
land and far sea away,
and
send to her the nights that burn
this
hole inside of me.
I
went out to harvest the next bunch of black eyed peas...wandered with
my dogs, watched the sky darken and pink sunset clouds in contrast to
the higher white cirrus clouds...
thought
of my lost life, love and wife.
Thanked
the Universe for all of it.
The
sky has darkened to that incredible purplishblue
\that
precedes the fall of night.
Day
never ends on Earth neither does Night.
Our
world is always awake and asleep at the same time.
Wonder
why humans are asleep awake so much?
.....................................................................................................................................
Lluvia de Mujeres / un concepto
Come ruin my
solitude.
Come yell my name
from outside so I can see this butterfly.
Come din my silence.
Come bang the drum
of your beauty in my eyes, whip my ears with laughter.
Come stand in your
light and throw my shadow on the pages of the book of my life.
Come pull me out of
my chair to dance to the silence you just splintered.
Come take my peace.
Come take it and
live in it with me all the days we have left.
Come blind me. Show
me your soul's glowing brilliance and your hearts pure burning
desire.
Come drown me,
smother me in your breasts,
come shut my mouth
with your open kisses, stiffen me,
come make me obey, a
line such as I has never graced your way.
Come fill my time
with the infinite that is you.
..................................................................................................................................
I am the farmer, I am he who plants, food, trees, bushes and flowers for bees.
I
have coffee, two cups from my plants, then I get ready and put on my
pants.
Dogs
need feeding, cats do too, and don’t forget the ducks, three.
They
honk and quack as I walk past their pool, open their gate and pour
their food
onto
their plate. It ‘s not yet six AM and the day is in full tilt.
Machete
I gather, scabbard covering sharp blade to the hilt,
I
tie the lanyard around my waist, I head out, boots flapping, to
gravity’s slope, downhill.
I
feel the wind and rain on my face, I think of my dogs licking me
in
greeting , all tongues and jumping.
This
cat’s fur rain, this garuero wind
kiss
me as I head toward the gate, large trees shaking
their
branches swaying above my head, I search for
weakness,
I look for cracks.
No
widowmaker to crush my back.
I
think of all that I have done here on this parcel.
Entrusted
to me, consecrated in the blood
of
one who died too soon.
But
we all die, and none too soon,
not
one at the wrong moment
the
slope and storm will drag us away
and
walking down this hill
in
the gloom light of gray dawn
reminds
me that I am He who plants,
food,
trees, bushes and flowers for bees.
My
job , my vocation, my very life
is
in service to all that passes and
passing
too, that joy,
as
shall be the day
when
she will plant me.
How can I get you to
know that I am for you?
How many unknowns
before you know for sure?
How many doubts will
have to be dispelled?
How many ex-lovers
brought out from their cells?
How deep must we
bury all that history?
Before I can be for
you and you can be for me?
I know I am for you,
every fiber says so.
I know you are for
me, though far away says “no”.
I keep my eyes on
the prize, no matter how far to go.
Everything conspires
against and only trust brings hope.
You are the mystery
who only you know
I am a bubble that
on the wind did blow
You burst me, I
thirst for you and if me you should own
I have no one to
blame, I’ve chosen such in my bones.
I am The Great
Romantic, but I never wander far from home,
You are my heart
center and I want you wherever you roam.
Sometimes we win
again, we can grin again, we can begin again
knowing it’s all
the same but different, ‘cause that’s the game
and no matter what
we do we are stuck, there’s no one to blame.
Feel free to be
yourself, that’s the same gift I want to give
I’ll just go on
being me because it’s the only way I can live
But don’t be
afraid to become me, because I am already part of you
I’ll just stand
here waiting, because there’s nothing else I can do.
.......................................................................................................................
She had traveled far
to visit him, she had left much behind as well.
He had built an open
space for her arrival, he tied his hands behind his back.
She came because she
was sure and he invited her for the same reason.
He met her at the
gate, she smiled and set her bag down.
They hugged. A hug
for the ages. When two hearts meet.
They beat as one.
They met again and
again and again as they stood at the gate.
He lifted her bag
and carried it inside. She held his hand and exhaled.
They had waited, an
appropriate amount of time, not rushing
Their feelings had
rushed, to fill the void of loneliness
to feed the starving
souls of two who had lost all they loved
He wanted to go on
that ride again. She was a natural at rollercoasters
He opened the door
to his house. She entered their home.
He trembled the fear
of the hopelessly enamored. She radiated hope.
They could never
sleep when together for talking. Only kisses brought silence.
Silence brought
words, they could never sleep when together for loving.
He slid his fingers
through her soft curls. She fixed him with her stare.
She breathed
haltingly. His fingertips stroked her neck.
His fingers ran her
clavicle. She licked her lips and kissed his ear.
Her breast heaved as
he urged her softly. He stiffened in his pants.
.................................................................................................................................
Waking up in the
morning, bringing her a cup of coffee in bed
Sit down to her
sweet voice, “Good morning my man”
She’d feed the
dogs and pet the cats, always had time for that
Then came the
chickens and the ducks, outside in her sun hat
‘Hola Heber! Como
le va?” as she strode to the enclosure.
I would give
anything In this world to be able to hold her
Talking ‘bout the
girl that made me happy,
talking bout the
girl that made me happy
We always had what
we needed,
she shopped and made
sure we’d eaten
She cooked as good
as our chef friends,
but hers had love
that no one else could dispense
talking bout the
girl that made me happy
talking bout the
girl that made me happy
.................................................................................................................................
I wonder how it is
that a man like me can be given so much in blessing?
I started in lust
and passion and they gave me a wife, I started with illicit intimacy
and she gave me a
life, I started with broken symmetry and found myself completed
by the face in the
mirror that she always showed as me.
I lost this face, I
lost the taste of love she gave and only bitter tears,
only unknown fears,
only looking back on the years
as legacy.
But how can this be?
How can she be gone, utterly?
Maybe I am wrong?
Maybe she still gives me life and brings me love?
Maybe only her ways
and name and appearance have changed?
Is this possible, I
wonder, looking for faith and love I blundered
back onto the path
the Lord has made, back onto the trail in search of she
who makes my nights
and days.
Behold me in your
beacon bright, know that you are the reason for my smile.
Know that the past,
now she is buried, yields, giving way to
the gifts you bring
me, again.
..................................................................................................................................
Epiphany, when
the obvious becomes
present,
when the given is
received.
Plain as the nose on
your face
some might say
but, you did not
even see it, coming.
All the while, you
lived it.
Everyday.
Then arrives
confusion. It lays
waste to
hope, drys it up
and in your mouth is
a bitter taste
when the given draws
back
and you’re left
alone
your house is no
home
and you learn too
late
after she’s gone
away.
What I give, is
given to myself.
What I keep for
myself I keep from others.
What is given, I
give to me.
What is kept from
others I keep from myself.
Afflicted
I’m so f*ked up
I wear my heart on a
smile
it’s my sleeve and
collar
and nothing less is
more confusing.
Old enough to know,
bitter,
Oh...better not to
know
If this is folly
then I am taking it
all, I am (4x’s)
Afflicted /smitten/
affected/ infected/
by this ease with
which she...
by her smile with
which she...
by her certainty
with which she...
by her words, with
which she...
covers
my naked need.
Saturday, 3 November 2018
Loving women. I loved A woman for more than 40 years. That meant certain
restrictions on my ability to befriend women. I did not mind. I loved
my wife dearly and honestly all my life with her, I love her memory now
as much as I did
her. But I cannot commune with her. I cannot kiss her. I cannot hold her or converse with her, I can't ask her about herself anymore. I used to rely on her for all that and more and I gave all that I could that she asked of me.
Now I have many friends who are kind and decent women. They care for me, in all the ways they perceive me as unable to. They cook, they clean, they converse and they enjoy my company. They call and check on me, they bring me things and think of me...I am truly blessed. I find this love most enjoyable...and yet, there remains in me a longing to find HER, like my wonderful Carla, a woman beyond my expectations, a woman I have no restraints against, no mask to hide my face from her, no other to have to demure to or think of, just she who makes my days and nights without concern for what is "too much love". She who would look at me with eyes that see my goodness and love me for my humanity...
Perhaps it is too much to ask. Perhaps I should rejoice and give thanks that my needs are met and the faces are sweet and many. Perhaps. But am I capable, honestly, of not wishing she would come into my world, that she would be my dream and reason for so much beyond just me...just one woman, just that one I KNOW is out there, wanting me, waiting for me...
her. But I cannot commune with her. I cannot kiss her. I cannot hold her or converse with her, I can't ask her about herself anymore. I used to rely on her for all that and more and I gave all that I could that she asked of me.
Now I have many friends who are kind and decent women. They care for me, in all the ways they perceive me as unable to. They cook, they clean, they converse and they enjoy my company. They call and check on me, they bring me things and think of me...I am truly blessed. I find this love most enjoyable...and yet, there remains in me a longing to find HER, like my wonderful Carla, a woman beyond my expectations, a woman I have no restraints against, no mask to hide my face from her, no other to have to demure to or think of, just she who makes my days and nights without concern for what is "too much love". She who would look at me with eyes that see my goodness and love me for my humanity...
Perhaps it is too much to ask. Perhaps I should rejoice and give thanks that my needs are met and the faces are sweet and many. Perhaps. But am I capable, honestly, of not wishing she would come into my world, that she would be my dream and reason for so much beyond just me...just one woman, just that one I KNOW is out there, wanting me, waiting for me...
I don't intend to send this but i sit here writing it
I am wrestling, if it were but Jacob's angel
then the task would be only a challenge,
I am wrapped in coils, I am surrounded
by my self, and with myself I encircle me
My head under my arm, my leg in a twist
half Nelson of emotions wringing me
and an anaconda too...
It is not good for a man to be alone
especially if he wraps himself in coils
that suffocate him, slowly.
It is not the Good
for a man to be alone either
How can it be good? Look around you,
we're reproducing like there is no tomorrow
and we all need someone to talk to
and 8 billion souls that all struggle
that all wrestle, that all wrap themselves
in these mortal coils
in these mortal coils
Thursday, 26 October 2017
farm for sale
I set it in action, I invited my friends in too
I started a process in motion and now
what can I do?
have to let it all play out,
have to find out what it's all about
have to be secure and not be in doubt
maybe I will be sold out to one
who
sees the value of what we've done
maybe I'll be here when ninety knocks on the gate
or just down the hill in the next lovely place
but I set it in motion and now my fate
hangs on the kindness of strangers that come through my gate.
I started a process in motion and now
what can I do?
have to let it all play out,
have to find out what it's all about
have to be secure and not be in doubt
maybe I will be sold out to one
who
sees the value of what we've done
maybe I'll be here when ninety knocks on the gate
or just down the hill in the next lovely place
but I set it in motion and now my fate
hangs on the kindness of strangers that come through my gate.
On an island in the sea
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her long locks, blowing on the ocean breeze
I imagine her yoga moves, her head between her knees
I imagine her loving look taking all of this in
I imagine her smile as she jumps in the sea for a swim
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her converted van, her little dog and her Hawaiian tan
I imagine her fleece and her blue flowing dress
I imagine the sweetness of her soft caress
I imagine she sees me here so far away
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her long locks, blowing on the ocean breeze
I imagine her yoga moves, her head between her knees
I imagine her loving look taking all of this in
I imagine her smile as she jumps in the sea for a swim
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
I imagine her converted van, her little dog and her Hawaiian tan
I imagine her fleece and her blue flowing dress
I imagine the sweetness of her soft caress
I imagine she sees me here so far away
On an island in the sea lives a woman I've never met
and the more I imagine her, the more real she will get
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