Little Walks and Talks

He promises he won't bite

She wonders if he lies

He says he's not looking for a fight

And she knows that can't be right

Because they've both seen enough 

Because they're both pretty smart 

And they both would never have thought

Of the dangers coming from these little talks

He promises he is open minded

And she wonders if she really is too

He promises that he won't try to convince

And she knows she will not hold back

Because they've both seen enough 

Because they're both pretty smart 

And they both would never have thought

Of the dangers coming from these long walks

He says he just wants to ask something

She knows he not to believe him 

He wonders if she will ever really hear

And she wonders what brings him such fear

Because they've both seen a bit

But neither feels like they can defend it

And they both would never have thought

Of the secrets hidden behind their own locks

He won't try to convince her anymore

And she has also decided to shut her door

And instead they just sit and watch tv 

Choosing comfort over true intimacy 

Because they've seen whats around the bend

And they both know how this tragic tale ends

And neither would have ever thought 

Love harms the lips that remain unlocked

Rock and Sand

He is constant and unchanging
He is fixed and never fading
He is strong and unmoving
He is sure and untouchable
At least that is how they say it
But can you ask yourself if that is true
Then why was there inconsistency
Why the change that occurred time and time again
How could things once fixed be undone
How could things once important fade away
Look at the picture He has painted
Read the story He had them write for you
Would you think of it as unchanging
When He told Hezekiah you will die
And Hekekiah cried and begged for more time
And He changed his mind
This is one example of many
Argue it if you like
It is the truth
Either He does change and change His mind
Or the one who wrote those words did not write His words
Either is an unsettling answer
And do you know why?
Because life is so unstable and unsure
We long for, we crave the feel of certainty
We desire and need a sense of the sure
And this would remove a foundation of stone
And replace it with a foundation of sand
At least, until that sand is made into cement
Until that cement dries and is suddenly better than stone
Sand can be worked and strengthened to concrete
Sand can be refined and made into beautiful glass
Stone limits and can only be chipped away until nothing remains
Until the stone eventually becomes sand
Sacreligious as this may sound ask yourself this
What did Abraham and Enoch and Noah and Melchizadeck have to look to
They had no stone and only sand
And yet they were called "Blessed" "Favored" "Friend" and "Righteous"
So maybe sand is not the problem here
Maybe it is okay to question established rules
To question their actual morality (no I will not cut off your hand)
Maybe it is okay for things to change
Yes this applies to "current events" (not to be subtle about it)
But it applies to everything that comes after
This is a conversation we must have
If we don't switch to sand and learn to work it then all too soon our rock will weather away
And we will have nothing but sand and uncertainty to stand on

The Smart Guy

Alex is a smart guy
He knows how to play the game
He tells her he likes her a little
And then he pretends that he doesn't anymore
And she suddenly wonders what happened
She wonders if it is something she's done
And she wonders what Alex is thinking
And she wonders about Alex a lot
And in her mind Alex becomes ellusive
Seductive and strong
Harboring some secret hatred
And she hoped and doesnt that its against her
Alex is a smart guy
He knows what to do next
He calls her late when she is sleeping
But then won't answer her texts
And makes cryptic facebook statuses
And has inside jokes with all her friends
And she suddenly feels so mixed up
And she suddenly wonders why she feels this way
And she begins to questions what Alex means to her
And wonders more about that boy
Alex is a smart guy
He knows this cannot last
Because he only knows how to play the game
He doesn't know how to make it last
He only knows that now he has to make it end
Because someone is going to get hurt and lose face
And Alex has played the game too long
He cannot lose even if he tries
So she doesn't know why he starts giving her attention
And she doesn't know why but she's glad that he does
And she doesn't know why but she's losing interest
And she doesn't know why but she thinks she might be done
Alex is a smart guy
He knows how to play the game
Alex is a smart guy
But he doesn't know how to get out

Thinking

She sits in a Parisian cafe 

And dreams of England 

Holds the cup close

And breathes in spice from India

And thinks about the boy in Alabama

And thinks about the summer in Hawaii

And wonders about the friend she left in Australia

And wonders about the friend who left her for Australia

And all these things bring her closer to the unsettling feeling

That things are much larger than she knows

And that she has a small time here

And she has not done enough

So she stands out in the London rain and watches the sky

As the sunlight slants sideways through lances of rain

And she thinks about how her best friend died

That day in the carcrash in the Arizona desert

And how her mom is sick in a hospital in Hawaii

And how her friend in Australia met her friend in Australia

And wonders if they will have a boy or girl

And whether her nail color is too bright

And whether she will ever meet Mr Right

And wonders about the boy she left in Alabama

And tells herself she does not miss him

And then she stands on the bank of the Mississippi

It's nightime and the air is thick like syrup

A glow of a tent to her left comes with shouting
And singing and the laughter of children 

The smell of caramel corn and firelies mix in the air

The smell of the river mud and the hair of the boy from Alabama greet her

She does not turn to face him

She cannot bare to see his eyes again 

She wishes she could touch him

She wishes she could let him know she is there

He is sad as he looks off into the distance

The moonlight flickers back at them on the water

And he stands on the edge of the pier 

His long fingers buried in his pocket

And he talks to her as if she is there

And he tells her that he feels so guilty

That he wished it had been him and not her

That he wished they had stayed home that night

And that he wished there were no drunk drivers

And he steps off of the pier and says her name

And she is with him

The world is blue and brown and black

The world is soft and cool and slow and thick

The world is finally quiet enough for him to hear her

And bubbles fly from his mouth at the sound of her wings

"I missed you too."

Toxic Conversations

So shall we sit and speak of other things

Of sealing wax and cabbages and whether we have wings

Lets turn the tv off

Lets sit a while and talk

Lets make eye contact long

And just not mention

The unspeakable thing

There is a topic

It's toxic

And I know eventually we will visit it

And as we writhe in the toxic ooze

The radioactive sludge drip neon green from our bare skin

Rivulets of poison run off us like rain showers

Acid stinging the corners of our eyes

When we rise from the hazmat spill 

Our skin glowing yellow with radiation

And our hair sparking with hydrocarbons

Will you still kiss me then 

When you realize that I do not believe

In the existence of Alaska

Will you still kiss me then 

When you realize I need to see

And sometimes I accidentally do

Will you still kick me when 

I bow down to your iron will

And worship your cast gods

Then what 

Words and words and words

And the breaking apart of things

And the flight of happiness 

And the deep darkness of disspair

Pain too 

And this one thing

Wisdom

I am no prophet

The greatest prophet of the future is the past

Can we reconcile our pasts

Let us sit then and speak of other things

Of ships and sails and ceiling wax and not the King of Kings

Exit Music

She has taught me to be honest
So that instead of keeping poison inside
I release it like a cloud of impending death
Like a gaschamber showerhead
Like listening to ukelele covers of Radiohead
Like hearing the exit music playing early
Because the stage is lit too poorly
And for a long time caution kept me steady
Kept my mouth shut and my heart heavy
But now its over and they have flown the coop
And acid rain will make your pretend flowers droop
And this false color photo will change to black and white
And this false front on our lives will suffer bliss and blight
Honesty is after all what she taught me

Two

There are two worlds
They lay upon each other
Like leaves from the maple tree
Clipped from skeletal branches
By crisp autumn fingers
And gently laid over each other
Like pages of a book
In the one world things are blue
And the sky is black all the time
The water is salt and the air is cold
And people are each attached at the waist to a ship
When they laugh and they cry
Their sails billow out full and pregnant
And they are sped on their way
Blasting through arctic air
Because here there is no sun
There is only ever the dancing lights
And shades of starlight foreign to nightime
In this world the man is a whisper
In this world he hides on wings of shadow
And he draws tears from the eyes of sleeping children
And feeds on the unspoken dreams hidden there
And in this world he rises up on the North Wind
And hides away into the shadows of the Winter
To his house carved out of horn and ivory
And his inner chamber lit with bottled moonlight
That he uses to look into the glass upon the floor
The glass through which he sees
The other world and her
In the other world things are orange
And the sky is red like burnt rust all the time
There is no water in this world only blood and fire
And the air smells of spices and coffee and desire
Here there are no people
Only ever him and her
And this world is unstable
It grows and shrinks about them
Sometimes it is only as big as the inside of his arms
Other times it stretches outwards like a breath
And expands out to the starless crimson sky
In this world she talks to him and he is honest
In this world he talks and is not silent
And their home is a garden in the East
And when they go into the abandoned bower
They pass beneath a sword of flame that touches their tongues
And they hold hands and breathe in the smoke and the fire
And they lie underneath a honeysuckle bush
And as they sleep and their sweaty skin is pressed against each other
The nectar from the flowers fall on the man's back
And leaves drops of sticky honey like small footprints
They love here but they do not make love
Though they know of it
Many times has he taken her to see the tree
The tree they cannot touch and cannot speak of
The tree covered in flowers that are fire
And burn with smoke and incense
Like a pillar of sacrifice constantly luring
And never being consumed or satisfied
She knows about the tree and what it is meant to do
At least she thinks she has heard stories
But she has never tasted of the fruit of the tree
Because this tree has not made fruit for them
And so they stand underneath the open flowers
And as thick globs of nectar fall like resin
He puts out his finger and catches a sticky string
And brings the golden ambrosia to his lips
And offers her a simple and chaste kiss
And she kisses and sleep takes her
And he leaves her there under the tree to dream of what could be
And makes his way to the place where the four rivers flow
And finds the small pool there
Lined with blue narcissus dipping down
And when he looks through the still surface
He can see the other world and the other him
And they both reach out and touch their fingers
But they can never seem to touch
And the one in the blue world wonders
If he can find her, the girl in the garden
If he can find the her in his world
Will it break the mirror
Or will it mean the tree in the garden will finally bare fruit
And will the girl in the garden finally eat of the fruit
And finally become like a god
Having two worlds with a piece of glass in between
Having two natures not at war but working in harmony
In tandem towards a goal of eternal subjugation
Will the small taste of power be enough to corrupt her
And the man in the garden wonders if maybe he should stop
Never come back to the pool by the rivers
Maybe be content with chaste kisses
And small drops of ambrosia
Maybe be content with losing the darkenss
And be content with living forever in that unstable world
They both know there will be a day
When the glass will shatter and they will become one
They both know there will be a day when the tree's flowers will wilt
And the fruit will hang full and ripe and low and heavy from those branches
And they know she will go walking through the garden
And he will meet her there at the tree, at the centre
And he will say, "Will one quick taste really kill you?"
And she will say, "No, but I'm not ready yet."
And he will say, "Doesn't it look good. Don't you want it?"
And she will say, "It does look good. I do want it. But I can't."
Because she also has another world that she looks into
And she also has another she that looks back at her.
And he will say, "A little more knowledge is never bad. Why don't you know me a little bit more?"
And she will say, "Is it really this important to you? Do you know that I will get the worse end of the deal?"
And he will say, "I love you."
And she will take the fruit and eat of it and her eyes will be opened
And all the walls of mirrors will break and all the other shes will be inside of her
And all the other hes will be inside of him
And they will have to live with the knowledge that they chose the world of the garden
The world of blood and fire and smoke
The world of desire and anger and passion
That the world of love will be their world
Until the glass walls come back up again
Until he is trapped in the blue world away from her
And they both hope that this story hasn't been written yet
And they both fear that this end may be inevitable
And that they are stuck carried along by a current
Towards a wall of ice looming ahead
Like there are two worlds that lay upon each other
Like two leaves of a folio
Like two chapters of a book

Truth or Dare

It is much too hard for me

Not to lie to you

Not to tell you what you want to hear

Because I know what you want

At least I think I know

And I'll tell you what you want to hear

So then you'll be happy

And you won't ever leave me

Oh wait

This is sounding so pedantic and childish

Keep you happy

So you won't make me unhappy

Because it's all about being happy

And making each other happy all the time

Instead I will practice this new

Art of disappointment

I won't live up to your expectations

And I will draw back a bit

Inwards further

This is my problem

It is a foolish problem

It is a childish problem

But then we've always known

That all little boys in love

Are nothing but children

This is my problem

When I feel you there

So close

So near

In my arms you fit so perfectly

And you fulfill me on so many levels

Budding joy and spreading peace

Releasing comfort and disappearing my troubled mind

In you I find that place

The rest from my daily toil my soul craves for

And so

In some way it is only fair

It is only right

That I repay all that you are for me

The way that you make me feel

By making you feel good too

It is childish

It is futile

But you make life so bareable

I want to make yours bearable too

So I bring you pretty things

Things that I don't really care for

Things that I think you will like

So I do so many things

Things that I would not normally do

Things that I think you want me to

And I listen to all the things you have to say

Things I know are vapid and things I disagree with

Things I think you must think so important

And I do all this because I hope it makes you happy

Or I would

But I have this intuition

This strange feeling that guides my lips

It says

You do not want me to make you happy

You have tasted too much of the world's bitter salt

You have known too much bitterness and sorrow

To believe in a person who can make you

Perfectly happy

And so against my own better judgement

Or rather

Against my own natural instincts

I will speak the truth to you

I will not try to make you happy

I will be myself

And that means

Wanting to hold you

Not always but most of the time

Wanting to help you

Not always but some times

It means loving fully when we are together

And it means doubting that love the second we are apart

It means staying up until 5 am

Rewriting this stupid poem

And taking out all of the cliches and lies

Until I can say honestly

It may be hard for me

My self may fight against it

But I will tell you the truth

Even though I love you

Diotama's Ladder on a Rocking Chair

A rocking chair

In an empty room

Where two lovers once talked of love

Never made love

Never could find that magic switch

To turn the wheelchair off

And the lights on

And make this prison a home

So instead they listened to the Preacher

And found the flaws in Lysistrata's ending

And found the flaws because they had no ending

But there are some movies they could watch

Escape through a silver screen and a small pipe

But the end was still just out of their reach

Because a rocking chair

They just wanted to rock that chair

But the wheels keep sliding

Across the floor even when it's locked

And the brakes keep breaking

And the floor won't be shaking

And the neighbors won't be complaining

Because they want to rock that chair

That rocking rocking chair

Make it electric

And light up their worlds once again

So they'll make jokes about paralysis

And they'll make light about the chairs

Because its easier to talk about it from afar

Joke about it like its not their problem

And make out as if they aren't both paralyzed

With fear of the future and that rockless chair

A Contest of Derisions

The back and forth

Its a conversation

Its a new addition

Its a convocation

Exhilirating

And so frustrating

No one wants a fight

Because everyone wants to fight

And when no one is willing to let go

And when no one wants to be a loser

It means everyone loses in the end

Can she bare loss?

Can she endure the strain of time's gravelly flow?

Can they sing about each other?

Can they remember why they even came?

It is an argument

It augments

And it strains their private space

With notes and chords of malcontent

And the constant heartbeat of a song

And dischord of their minds

Shall the muses then sing

Shall they loving remember

The way that these words flew

As arrows and missles and never like a dove

Because the wings were dark ones

Ones of death and destruction

And the end of a small life

Maybe they should not speak

Can he do that to her?

Can he seal his lips, and his heart, and his mind?

Can they sit in silence instead

And no more talk such barbed sweet nothing

And no more break each other like waves on the rocks

Maybe

But it would take so much

Straining

Pushing

Praying

Revolting

And maybe just some luck

Whose will be greater

Why did they ever make this a competition

Instead of a conversation

She should ask

And he will never

Then there is this

And then there's this

I think we won't work

And I lie in my bed

With what can only be called

Dread

I make my little plans

Of how this time I won't

Reach for you

Kiss you

Take your hand in mine

To clearly communicate

This feeling of impending something

Maybe nothing

But in the lonely hours I can't shake it

And I think I'd rather die

And then there's you

Your voice on the phone

The sudden lifting up

Like a curtain pulling back

Like the clouds blown away

The sun comes out and your voice pulls me up

Into a whirling mealestrome of thoughts

And ideas about the future and our day today

And I suddenly no longer feel

Anything

But hope and anticipation

And then there's me

And myself and my own insecurities

About us and about love and most importantly

About the true fragility of life

And the true nature and cost of attachement

And whether freedom from fear

Is not also barment from hope

And whether I have to face myself

When I hear your voice and when I'm alone

And then there's this

Growth

Fear/Love

When I am with you

I feel

As I have not felt for so long

It goes beyond

And I fear this love

For it is a thing so delicate

I think

What if you were snatched away

A car accident

Or the drawn out process of slow decay

After a doctor visit

And a malignant prognosis

Or what if you should suddenly stop

Feeling this way towards me

As suddenly as you started

Or slowly grow cold towards me

As I slowly grew to love you

And what if love abandons us both

And we sit in silent self hatred

And spend the next forty years

Lying side by side and not saying anything

There is so much fear wrapped in you

But I can only feel it when we are apart

Together

I feel indominable

And I feel that I would never leave

And all would be well

And of course I fear you do not love me

Not as much as I you

I fear so many things

And their source is you

And their source is me

And I am sorry that I fear you

And I'm sorry that your love brings out the fear inside of me

And I don't really know

What's stronger

Fear

or Love

I Am No Gentleman

Justification

I have none for what I've done

You have been the party here 

Injured by my selfishness

Of all people poets are the most selfish 

We write songs and odes to the ubiquitous muse

And dare not wandered far from our pronouns 

Had I been a gentleman I would have said

Something

Sooner

Perhaps a word in private

Perhaps some other way than that

I could tell you I did not intend it

Any of it at all

I could tell you that I did not want

To tell you in such a sudden way

In the Hiroshima style

Or that I did not intend the news at all

That there was very little precognition 

That I was almost certain 

That things would have turned the other direction

But will that really absolve me?

My intentions, however base or nobel

They have not shaken hands with the outcome

And the end is still the same 

I have ill used you 

To toy with emotions I had no business toying with 

To act as some little boy unaware of his impact

Or the implications of his actions or words

No I take no shelter behind these hollow reasonings

I can at least do you the honor of admitting my fault

There may be too much of Rochester in me

Look beyond the good man and see the darkness

Look beyond the love story and see the selfishness

The self satisfaction 

The sick self sacrifice 

Because even though I'm writing this

Posting this admittance of guilt for all to see

If I were a gentleman I'd give you the thoughtfulness

To at least tell you face to face 

Or at least to give you a name

And not leave you playing guessing games

But as I've already established I guess

I am no Gentleman 

The Pull

You pull one way

I another

And yet we seem to make our way

Slowly forward on this path

Sure we could go faster

Traveling in the same direction

But when have either of us ever taken

The easiest way

So we will pull away

And we will keep pulling