Flying Mountain

You laid me down against the rock and we laughed. Out of fear or joy of what's to come, and what already has. With intent to tell you that I'm leaving, I shed a silent tear. You've cracked the stone boarders of my soul and I'm desperate to run away from you. Ignorance is bliss and you are blissfully sweet. Straw tubes of honey trickling down my throat, ocean breeze carrying me back to NY, while the constant tide remains to detain me here. Show me you love me without ever saying those empty, deafening words.

LaLa Land

The lake was guarded by mountains taller than any giant you've fantasized of in your dreams; as I know you often do. Not the malicious kind, these were gentle, sheltering everything the light touched from the outside world. Walking around the lake; falling in and out of its beguiling trance, I was overcome with sadness. I was alone, like I often am these days, caught in a staring contest with the setting sun. My fingers aimlessly trailing through bushes of lavender,  imagining them as your fingertips searching for mine.  They did not hold on. As the sun set below the mountains of Lake Como, so did your ghost. With the last rays of light reflecting off the water like dozing eyelids fighting to hold on to the last moments of waking life, I longed to share this view with you.

 lying on the shower floor
 the days hate pooling around you like needy children vying for attention
sobs hidden through cascading showers of your own self inflicted sins
the steam rises above you taking with it all the burdens that you hold
this is not the end
as your shoulders drop in humble gratitude you breathe out for the first time all day
all the words you left hanging on the tip of your tongue evaporate into thin air
the good goes out with the bad
you are then left with nothing, an empty corpse with nothing but skin and bones keeping you together
naked eyelids uncover virgin eyes to a cold damp world
do you ever know the caliber of ones cage?

these days all I have are ideas
but what is an idea without execution
it is hope that is lost, and the biggest lie you can tell youself
I cannot remember how many times I've thought of the line to a new poem
How many times I reworked it in my mind until it was just right
& then just let it go
We are constantly putting things on the back burner, saving them for later
But who knows when later wont come and all you'll be left with is a bunch of empty ideas
that were dying to be shared, dying to be written down, dying from the moment you thought of them

As I sit here with thoughts of you cascading over my mind. I can't help but smile at the inevitability of it all. You came back to me once; I can't help but hope that you'll come back to me again.

brautigan induced

There's a couple on East and 24th having what they hope to be their last first kiss. And I'm on my way to Brooklyn watching the street signs blur by.

Part III

Slowly I allow you to undress me, our bodies gliding in a synchronistic cadence that only years of practice can attest to. No amount of time or lapse of in between can compare to the feeling of you on top of me. Climax leads to confusion as I drift into the abyss of me and you. This is all a façade.  So I will put old feelings aside and go on living this life of mine. For even though I am daily haunted with memories that fall over me like a blanket of gossamers in a desolate field and am constantly set forth in a whirl wind of desire by allowing them to osculate through my heart just one more time; it only brings me back to the state of conjuncture that you left me in, where it all fell apart. Like shards of zircon, stunning and seemingly real to the untrained eye, you envelope my entire being; consuming me for all that I am worth. It will take many a sleepless night to get you out of my mind.