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Tired

on August 15, 2023

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I'm tired

World weary

Mired in the tears of both my silent eyes

Crying out in

poem

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Row boat

I want to share a secret I want your ears close I want whispers to be our language I want you to know I treasure this moment most I want us to explode in laughter I want the waves of sincerity To lap gently at our little row boat Out upon a still lake And feel your presence as we stare into the depths And pass a cigarette back and forth We call each other by names Other people aren't supposed to know References built on intimacies And wide eyed staring Into each other's souls Your hands upon me As we hug, and smile, And cry Because why wouldn't we? We don't have to deny anything We don't have to hide We don't have to lie about how we're doing Or what we did Or what we're supposed to show. Can we find a space, a place, A Grace where suddenly this Subtle sacrament is toasted By our gentle awakening from expectations Into a love That holds us both?

You Sent Me a Poem

You sent me a poem Out of nowhere Unexpectedly You never had before Your words were a song my heart sang in longing For the one I wanted so desperately I had to hide it from myself. I dreamt it was for me; I knew it wasn't. You share with me The parts of you That I have too, And are so very lonely, And afraid. You share them with such brilliance That I'm afraid to play along; And I yearn, and curse my fear That keeps me starving, In your company. You are here and there with me Back and forth with me As the friend I need, So deeply appreciate, So want to cling to: And you are so strong when I'm weak; And you yell at me In your soft way When you want what's best for me. I forget your image All I remember is the idea That you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen And then a picture At this distance between us Rekindles your visage And I tremble and quake inside Terrified by your stunning eyes, alight with intelligence and mischief, Scared to lose what I don

Hermit's return

If you didn't know what wrong you did, But hid from it anyway, On what day would you say: This is it: I rid my life of all this pain, This shame; This acidic drip of guilt and misery I built, I spit it from my mouth: Not an ounce of it returns again. And I won't explain. I won't deface this moment with the broken remnants Of long gone pasts and smattered, sour broth of Caustic sentiments; I won't address the devil in his depths, And in so doing lessen my own wealth; I've wept enough to furnish Oceans from my tears, and fears that kept me Hefting burdens, left me murdering the light of oh so many years. I've been tested and molested by my mind's unsightly messes, And to excess I held it all so dear. Hear me out: I make this statement, clear and loud. I won't accept another minute made of maddening derision and debasement; I sing my song as proudly and as rowdily as lungs will carry, And discard despairing. In amazement, I emerge encouraged from diminutive

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