Tag: winter poems

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Je me suis trouvé

no need to recount history,
know precisely who I am and where I’ve erred.
skimming through Dostoevsky, lying still out in the sun,
blazing to Young Dolph, fresh-cut grass grazing my naked elbows.
degenerate, dissident, long-lost descendant of Ramses II, though far removed from the glittering cities of ancient Egypt.

no need to replay your memories, know exactly where I’ve been and where I stand,
no past indiscretion shames me, no threat of harm from any man phases me,
no corporate shackles can tame me.
my voice is strong and clear like the sound of waves crashing into the shore,
I am a child of the summer, raised in the wilderness.

Je me suis perdu une fois,
mais maintenant…

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Redux.

bare bones in the sunlight,
fear was our chariot,
now we’re dripping in hope.
break it down brick by brick,
tears of joy streaming down your face like fresh squeezed juice in the summertime.
bury me 10 feet deep, so I can finally get a good night’s rest when it all ends.
the crowd can carry on and play numb,
but there’s no respite when the morning comes
and morning’s come.

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tenderness

soft slow kisses
our hands interwined, holding onto the moment our cells meet
skin caressing skin

when those compassionate eyes lock in with mine the tides rise, the sun sets, the city stands still

adventure with you takes form in multitudes
a trek through the wilderness, a trip across the country, an afternoon letting honest lips betray secrets

no mystery in our love, it overflows like the big brass horns on an Ella Fitzgerald tune

arrives warm and sweet like bubble baths and dinner paired with merlot over candlelight at home

in the end it all comes down to this, you’ve enraptured me in with your boundless tenderness

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Know Me

I’ll drink your tears
dressed in leather, wrapped in latex

I’ll eat your fears
honey-glazed, garnished with blood and thyme

Build us shelter for the winter
burn the whole damn village down

Regarder-moi, je vais tout te devenir
et rien

 (Photo of a self-portrait by Robert Mapplethorpe; Courtesy of LACMA)

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Cocktail Party

We’re all the same,
deep down,
driven by fears or desires,
shrouded in different colored wrapping paper, called skin.
We’re all the same,
searching, scratching, yearning for
adoration, success, acceptance
breathing in conversations like second-hand smoke,
faces, names, all jumbled up.
We’re all the same,
repeating past mistakes,
breaking promises,
you can fight it but
We’re all the same,
trying, needing, hoping to
unknown ends,
finding temporary ways to
soothe sadness, heal hurt,
extinguish anger.
We’re all the same,
deep down,
dark insides tucked into
shiny sweaters,
downing wine and craft beers.
We’re all the same,
judge less, love more
listen.

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Dawn

  
some things forged, meant to fade

morning light washes the slate