I walk at night on streets lined with my solace.
The homes and trees and street lamps are my friends.
When I've the road alone at midnight
I think the things that make amends.

the difference

You hiked a mountain.
How long can you sit at the top before you stop feeling?
The greatest moment is the first.
You begin descending the moment you arrive.
It is the difference, the sheer difference
between a nearly conquered foe and a conquered one
that makes you feel.
And for one moment, you are alive.

But life is borrowed, then returned.
It isn't yours; it isn't earned.

You seek for pain to feel the difference.
A "high" has no where to go, but down
and a "low," no where but up.
Will you experiment with lows?
...to feel the difference?
or claw the air for matter still to climb?

circles

******built to
***are*******be
We************broken,
**again.******and
****built****broken
********to be

pheonix blood

If only you could see me now,

could see the flashes in my eyes
like slashes deep in purple skies,
the golden streaks, the piercing cries
from cutting blades . . .
the new sunrise

You wouldn't have called me wasted.
You'd have stood up and you'd have faced it,
the storm that then erased it,
the care we started with.

But from your eyes once giddy
came eyes that burned whole cities
to the ground.
My world turned upside down.

Then left you did to find you'd rid
yourself of phoenix blood,
the stuff you left in ashes,
the stuff they call true love.

And now when I am coming out
renewing hope, doubting doubt,
I feel the flashes in my eye,
but this time birth can't make me cry.
I am the apple of my eye,
not you, not her, not girls plus guys.
I've unlearned romance, unlearned why.

If only you could see me now
back when our youth knew how.

For Sara, because she listens

I need to find you again.
You were the sweet bread
I ate before my meal--too early.
And now the plain bread is too plain.
My taste buds know the difference.
They can't be fooled for lesser things than you.

For Jessica, because she's there

Sitting on a lonely chair
atop four floors of memory,
I sit at night among ghosts.
I watch them run from door to door
across the roof-top.
They play the night games I once played for real.
I won't play them again the same--
the people are gone who taught them to me.
And with each leaving, left a ghost to play
unfinished games.
I am the last to leave
and sit alone in the shell of past happiness.
I wish you filled the hollow places,
the emptiness that haunts ghost faces.

setting

Life is full of good-bye's,
each one more potent than the last.
And each compounded to the rest
like new weight on a heavy heart.
Anticipate it, adjust to it if you must.
Brace yourself for the emptiness that weighs.
But don't close too early.
Don't say good-bye before it's time.
Don't lose before it's lost
or surrender what's not yet taken.
For those you lose are also losing you.
They count the seconds left
like sunset seconds of a favored day.
And wish to see the setting till it's done--
the ending brilliance, the parting sun.
It isn't losing when you've won
a past of memories.

Though stars are all that's left of light,
the stars do not appear till night.

Running

I'm following the sun.
If I can run fast enough,
I'll keep it on the horizon.

my shadow spot

I loved you too passionately then.
Now time has calmed the rage
and waves are ripples splashing
gently on my mind.

You were the noon time sun then,
too hot upon my skin.
I sought for shadows,
wanting shade to shield
my sun-burnt heart.

Too many feelings then.
But now the potency is faded
into starlight--
the lingering warmth
of sun's last breath across
the space connecting us.
The dust from stars
is really dust from you
still restless from you leaving.

I feel them draw me
from my shadow spot
to feel them in the open air--
the air you used to breathe--
and give me clearer pictures
of your beauty then.

I could not stare at sunlight then,
but love to gaze at starlight now--
reflections of your splendor.
It is your fading warmth
that captivates me most.
The twilight view more interesting
to painters.

Lead me to fading shores
where dying embers of past suns
remind me of past beauty best.
These are the moments full of rest,
the ones when love is gently pressed
into my heart.
And I concede at last to start
believing love could be an art
of mine,
if not confined
to summertime and heat stroke.

It was the heat that broke
my spirits then,
But twilight now has made me friend
to lovely pasts, and you again.

important

I'm important.
No, you're important.
Everyone is more important
than me.
But I'm important
when I'm better than you.
Homogeneity devalues me
to nothing.

important=valuable
valuable=better than things of little or no value
better=uniquely valuable
uniquely valuable=singularly important

important
special
unique
are wasted in generalities.

All my carnal eyes see is comparison.
The world only makes sense in good vs. bad.
I'll never survive in heaven.
They say everything is good there,
And everyone's important.
I'll be nothing.