A desolate jungle bursting with life
predators… and prey
But not the right one
Animals burst from cover and spill out into the light
The cat watches listless
Only perking up when a particular bird sings sweet
Melancholy drips
Waiting for soft touch, for song,
for chance, for choice
For safety, for a truth spoken in the heart
And the soft crunch of bones

Tremulous notes

There is a world of white and black. Sides of a coin hung in opposition but between the infinite sliver of what was and what will be. In this deepening gray I dwell, a voice raised in song.

Hold me in the heat of a dawning. The sun dances fresh across my lips tasting of your heart. The thought of your flesh yielding to my fierce touch. My voice rises in song. A song of seeking, of finding its lost way to you.

What I want more than anything

What I want more than anything is you.
Have we met?
Am I waiting for you or you for me?
If you know, tell me. I dislike waiting.
I’m looking but not looking.
Not seeking but open.
Not persuing, except in dreams, and how to tell one dream from reality.
I can feel you in the world or is that my heart beating, resonating to a frequency you feel as shivers down your spine?
Have we spoken and I or you said something in our head which, if said aloud would have made all the difference?
Is it better to speak as if there is no tomorrow that matters excepting those seconds that pass while in your heart?
This eyeless sense of love moves me like a blind cave fish seeking warmth.
Or am I merely deluded, and is the delusion that love exists and waits for a word mere delusion or a hope?
And is a hope better than the truth of lonely nights?


I dreamed of many things but primarily of a woman who would get caught in a world of words. Get lost in them. In the dream, I met her on a trip. It was the mountain dreamscape. A natural and wild area. I was camping and she was out in the wilderness and we shared a fire. It was cold, so we shared a chair next to the fire. Her snuggled in my lap. Her head against my heart.

The dream shifted to a woman telling a story about how she sometimes fell into a world where words would send her spinning. Where the words themselves become a world and she feels like she is fighting to get clear. To get home. And it’s like I’m riding along in her mind. I can see all of this, the fight and the journeys that take lifetimes and moments. That seems like pauses where she gets lost and is inattentive but really she is struggling with everything she has to get back.
Then I’m watching her give a talk about a book she’s written about the experience of her affliction and I find she has dedicated the book to me.

And the dream shifts and we’re in bed, my real bed complete with too many pillows and crimson sheets. And I turn to her and say, “Really? I really mean that much, help you that much that you want the world to know?”
She says, “of course, you keep me in the world. When you are here, I rarely slip away and rarely for long. And I remember that night on the ridge when you didn’t know me but you shared your fire and warmth.”
I say, “I love you, you are mine.” she smiles like I’ve given her the best news and we hold each other. Then I get up to get ready to go to work. But I’m waking from the dream and I don’t want to. I return to bed and hold her. She says, “I thought you were going to work.” I say, “I don’t want to leave here.” and I break and say “please, don’t leave me. Please, stay. Please.”

Then I wake completely. And she is gone. And I am crying.

Candy and Absinthe

Spread my wings out
To fly
But they
Are made of bones

Just fighting
To stay alive
Just tired
Of being

Stretch my hand
Out to the sky
I know you’re
Worth the fight

Kiss me
I’m falling
Catch me
I’m losing my mind

One touch and
I’m home
So tired
Of being alone

But you’re here
You’re real
These things that
I feel

These doubts that
In my chest
False prophets
Caged in regret

But you’re here now
You’re real
Wake me, from this dream

Kiss me
I am clean

Dreams precede

She waits for me when I close my eyes, delighted that I have come back to her. Who are you? I sent out a call and you appeared in my dreams. I can feel your lips on mine. The warmth of you next to me, snuggled down in bed under comforter. I feel the pull of you. But I don’t know to where. I cannot direct my feet when I know not the destination. The advice would be to allow the world to move and as it moves be pulled to you like gravity. And that’s wise. But the voice of experience says, you must find her and be with her. Life is fleeting it says and each moment should be lived in exquisite joy. And I want the latter but I have no choice but to follow the former.

It’s 4 AM thinking

In February, I stopped looking for love. I’d felt like I’d been through the relationship wars and just needed a rest. And they say that when you stop looking that’s when it finds you which I’ve always believed to be bullshit. But like lightning strike, I was hit, bowled over. And I thought maybe I was wrong. She said to me the one thing that melts all my defenses instantly. The think that fucks with my rational thinking. The thing that bypasses my mind and goes straight to my heart. I leapt over the precipice, knowing full well the likelihood of being caught. But she seemed to catch me. I’d like to think that for 2 weeks we were happy because the universe intervened. As it always seems to. I’m probably engaging in me centered thinking but every time I get close to having what I have been wanting, something intervenes and snatches them away from me. Almost always, some health related thing happens to the people I love. I don’t do anything to cause this, it’s not some fucked up self sabotage. But 4 people I love end up in hospital beds in the course of a year? Each time when we start getting past the preliminaries and begin to move in earnest. That’s too much for coincidence. It leads me to believe that I’m being messed with on a cosmic Greek gods capricious level. Or I am in a hell, where the one thing I desire is offered again and again and when it’s just within my grasp, they disappear like smoke. There are those that believe that the universe provides. I find that I and the universe seem to have a more adversarial role.

A rooftop view

Love is a force all its own. It moves world’s as surely as gravity. But in its wake the things that are changed are you and me. Wiser, happier or devastated, all because the heart recognizes its counterpart and thrusts, dagger quick, into the mind. Taking residence, guiding us to each other. Leaves caught in the tempest. Clinging to each other, having at last found our way home.