Snow, don't melt away

Coating nature like a divine blanket,
chilled to the bone, can mask all our footsteps,
twos’ and four’s spread out vanishing far away,
the feathers cling on to anything, everything,
a steady fall defying time,
a milky awe in winters chime.
Only that fiery orange can make them fade,
yet in that cool blue night they sleep briskly,
igloos reflecting youthful splendor,
everywhere that pure white stays the same,
a seasonal tingle with a euphoric twist,
a lasting mingle of yesterdays’ kiss.

Home

You can call it that,

that brick foundation in Chicago's womb,
that sixth floor complex under the red sun,
that quaint nook on the north side of the city,
that silent night stepping through Michigan Ave,
that resting place on the shore under a hallow summer moon,
that classroom filled with people who recall my name,
that apartment where those familiar faces became jocularly alive,
that old home within Pilsen back when nothing was broken,
that secluded fort my father built to keep monsters away,
that night driving while music blasted down western,
that Metra ride to Naperville nostalgic at what's there,
that midnight showing where our eyes met without care,
that warmth as the brittle midnight sank outside into dawn,
that comfort knowing nothing means everything as our hands fawned,

Home.
Yes, you can call it that,
and they are places I revisit again and again.

Cleanse

Hands cleansed of that ruby past, sliding into themselves,
rubbed on my damp forehead wiping those memories off like sweat,
eyes blink twice, first to recall all, second to repel,
body whispers, nerves wonder,
heart weightlessly pulls back like a swing at it's peak,
back aligns with all the momentum collapsing forward,
breathe reaching the clouds,
eyelids introduces that emptiness,
whole self lifting off into space,
counting not minutes, not hours, but days, months,
then...it all crashes like waves onto concrete.
I stare back at what's there, smiling,
nothing left.

Ode to Youth

That luster that shines with open eyes,

so wide they encompass mountains and emerald plains,

can’t hide their contagious laughter in the face of life,

nor the tears billowing like angelic fountains,

endless is just as possible as eternity,

space reaches their fingers and tickles them,

rosy cheeked and fawning over real love,

stricken by the sinuous roads at every turn,

yearning for that prince or princess to call their own,

the past is as bright as the future like a divine light-bulb,

never changing, nothing changes, everything is moving to something,

oh, those heartfelt movements sew up the deeps cut,

their surgeons who mend life’s empty shell,

we’ll try to force their heads into our narrow blinds,

confine them to chairs to stare at boards,

but some will still cling to that pink sunlight,

‘spite the carnage time brings.

Our War

Oh, that familiar gale pounding the window pane like a marching drum!

I thought I left the war, but its vigor never ceases,

pieces of dynamite puncture charred doors,

scores of soldiers lying waist deep in mud,

creases in the sky from low-flying bombers,

I imagine that battlefield funneling with artillery and gunfire,

trumpets blasting limps with their D-major scale,

pale faces roped by cymbals clashing the skull,

dull-eyed lunatics strapped with flutes ready to blow,

I conjure a parachute to float aimlessly among the barrage of bullets,

machines rattling like a broken jalopy trundling down the block,

stocked full of mercenaries drowned in thoughtless drive,

like a hive alive cause’ someone wants a taste,

paste those billboards and salute,

cause’ these days ain’t ending

till people’s voices tip the pot.

Flamingo Dancer

Dolled up in pink frill,

will the dancers please take their places?

Step her dear and don’t fear that first dip

since there are a lot more to come,

It’s your first time I know, I can see

You plea and beg for more, twirl,

You sweat and sing on four, swirl,

You smirk and kick and adore, furl,

allow my hands to rope your slim sides,

apply that leg at my waist to taste my skin,

that warmth on your neck is just my soul,

that feeling between your thighs my toll,

eye’s recede into darkness, a trance,

high lifting that body into space, a lance,

duo dance dangling doubts like exposed wire,

fire dies as the bass lulls, I bow and take my leave,

opening my palm to new pale hands,

won’t you take a seat fair lass?

I’m afraid your time has passed.

I’m sure that familiar song will play once again.

Aloneliness

I must confess,
surrounded by peaks poking like javelins,
drifting unfamiliar wafts of whooshing eastern winds,
spouting tongues that are foreign like I'm foreign from speakers,
motorbikes treading hear and there eying me suspiciously,
that ambiguous crack of the lips and slight wave,
these meals that have a common theme,
stepping into classrooms with eager minds,
following some unintended line tugging at my chest,
breathing in that thick white fog,
spinning in the countless city escapes barely able to mouth words,
it's nothing,

I revel in these times and don't regret,

but when I peek up at that same star blinking helplessly at night,
always waxing and waning begging for attention,
the moon offers it no home,
that fading light is being beaten by that purple nothingness,
being devoured into the creases of the sky,
I offer the star my mind,
to find what it yearns for,
that hand to hold,
that bonfire when cold,
those words that have been told,
cause I remember
the pain that loneliness unfolds.