Morning Running

I rise with the sun.  Peeking shyly into the horizon stretching over me, over the shadows shrinking as the minutes trot ahead of me, one foot meeting the next in a walk, arms like wings swinging to get the feel of the chill, that shiver of a new set of old lips, slapping my face to wake me to sprawling fall trees sprinkling auburn and lemon onto the sidewalk with each gust shimmering like long strands of hair in the sunlight, I need to catch up with times’ pace sprinting ahead of me, I’m eyeing the curving roads vanishing, half-awakers’ zooming past in a fugue still recalling their dreams, pain biting my ankles, imagining lying in a taxi cab on a cool summer night with your head leaning lovingly on my shoulder, chest inflating exhale the exhausting weights pressing as I pass the first intersection,

Slow at first, slow trotting the hilltop asphalt sharply bright, slow huffing and puffing stomping dead leaves flickering like tiny flames, slow sweat slyly coating and dripping into my eyes, slow silky skin pure white like soft desert sand with emerald gems, slow behind time motoring taunting waving goodbye kicking dust into my eyes, slow angst riding my back on hooves, slow sadness building, slow energy burning, slowly sinking into my forward motion, behind

Bare chested barreling like a bicycle spinning down a hill, pulsing thighs throbbing like a heartbeat ticking to explode, told time and time again to bundle up, holding your hand jostling on a packed bus full of strangers but just your scent catches my attention, homes blurring and meshing with the golden atmosphere, peering deeply in silence is when that mirror reflects the soul, under the perceptive smile there’s oceans of love covered in autumn leaves dug deep in the earth, legs float painlessly straight, under pace of time still grinning widely back at me teasing and taunting, lounging by you while sleep brushes your eyes hoping to hold you far past when the sun peeks and ruins it all, under the watchful stare of the sun and planes silently cutting white lines in the sky, remembering wordlessly getting lost in just your gaze,

Faster running a rabbit being chased by wolves past is the dog sniffing the shadows and slowly getting away faster in a palsy spitting up old memories and watching them spray the floor faster engines roaring and ranting about getting there before me faster scenes of kissing and talking and walking and being together hands clasped eyes forward hearts exchanged faster painful faster seeking faster living faster behind the future speeding ahead of me, faster than the tears riling by my cheek ,faster than how your words seek, faster till I’ve bolted passed the fear gaining on me,

Exposed liquid soul seeping after my steps so I don’t forget where I was breathing past energy punching to catch that elusive future skimming my fingers lights darkness flying by biting gnawing over exhaustion over anxiety over sadness wanting that body of water that makes me whole needing that quenching brisk body that’ll refill me devouring all the before screaming for the now arms reaching over pain over thinking over actions lunging nabbing it by the throat just collapsing over over over,

…

..

.

I can’t move my body.

I hear birds singing our old song from somewhere.

My mouth only opens for more air. 

I stick my tongue out to catch my rain drops.

I can barely see the future setting sail. 

I don’t have the energy to wave goodbye.

I’ve run this way time and time again. 

I have to stop.

I can’t stop. 

I will stop.

I close my eyes

as the red sun finally sets.

Leaves of Love 2

Alone staring at the blank fading walls,

the moon’s pearl projects your face in my mind,

two rafts drifting apart, a velvet wine

sea screaming, fierce, masking my roaring calls,

heart thuds like when our lips jolted it all,

a grey sheath captures your light, need to find

bread crumbs that taste as worldly and divine,

every night a retelling of our fall,

You’re the dawn I want to see when I rise,

endless eyes above an auburn smile,

You’re a silent muse helping me to fly,

you’re willing to wander the world awhile,

I’ll stare at the abyss wishing for you,

lying in leaves of love, knowing it’s you.

Eve

Soft taps of rain drops, is the moon crying, did she steal his glimmer

a natural thief fleeing with a beating heart

the world’s a two-way mirror reflecting beauty and pain

egressing into solitude taught her that.  She’ll grow green roses

with her tears and watch them die.  Sleep is another death, a dream

a replaying of broken scenes of loss.  She’s shivering under covers

fingering the sharp skin yearning for that old touch.  She’ll spit clouds

to cover the sunlight since at night she’s able to create happy shadows.

Collapsing into bed staring at the beams of light cycle through

on a train shooting for far away field running aimlessly

that intense anxiety shaking thrashing pounding

turning to capture the sleeping hills and bonfires

smoke signals for the gods

slowly ascending past the sky

to remind them what love looks like.

Creation

He’ll paste his pencil in the sky and watch it spin like a clock,

the way those hands move is sensual in a way,

decaying structures crumble like pieces of cake,

wake the children to see this fire,

higher and higher till it burns the city for a second time,

He’ll be the phoenix rising from the ashes,

that symbol washing the blood from the cities hands,

a deep crimson dripping from the lake,

diving to dig the graves up,

let the corpses float so we know where are forefathers are,

He’ll create his own river bending to his will,

till the earth erupts with colorful guffaws,

that past leaking from his shadows and scaring him,

he was never afraid of the dark before,

but something real is waiting for him

around the next dirty street corner.

Man and Machine

Man                                     Machine

I tread barefoot across hot sand, a whisper from the ocean, eastern breeze chilling my skin, squawking seagulls pecking for scraps at my feet, peeking a memory is like staring at the sun, I reach to feel the blonde locks between my fingers, I’m brought down by the weight, I start to build sandcastles out of snow, shivering, rubbing my palms for warmth, dark clouds can appear without warning.

Systems on.  Engines running on fuel combusting and burning loads of oil into my limbs mimicking moving my almond eyes mirrors that can see but not understand.  Brain wired to electrons spouting lightning bolts to transfer emotions like smiles and laughs fingers touching hands but not really feeling the energy stifling my iron lung shooting bullets in the form of my name.  Conceiving days with the stopwatch winding down on my arm keeping motion forward monstrous rains plummeting sparking fire fizzling database seeping into the cracks to feed the only human part left my heart.

Sunset Song

I know you, white blinking orb,

sitting heavenly in the sky,

I pray to your full form,

while I fly by.

Most eyes hide from your face,

losing themselves to the night,

comforted by your constant place,

settled with your flight.

I love you and your beautiful eye,

when I’m wandering the seas,

when I’m lost in dream ecstasy,

when I’m alone huddled in a tree

waiting for the clouds to cry.

The cool gales make me shiver,

I’ve been trundling for so long,

time apart from you makes my wings quiver,

but I’ll patiently sit and croon this sunset song.

Young Christmas

1.

I’ll paste together a family of snow,

packing them in a row,

First the father with a button-nose,

the wife and her rosy lips,

one son with tiny toes,

and a daughter lunging wide hips,

they’ll be mended by the same white flakes,

clumped from Chicago’s hair,

they’ll always be close cause they can’t move,

as long as the winter stays chilly and cold,

I stare at my creation,

rubbing my hands for warmth,

wondering why my family melts away

even as the dead of winter folds.

2.

Blizzard:  Settling mounds as white as grandma’s hair.

Closed:  lights are off while the grey clouds linger high.

Family:  No sign of mom’s car as the snow reaches our window.

Alone:  Watching fat flecks covering everything slowly, clean.

3.

I’m sitting under a withering tree with the

moon as my guiding star.  Winter dreams

chime with ringing of bells and traveling

two places to eat a dinner.  It’s not a war

but a time of giving.  Don’t ask for words

if you’ll use them as knives.  I’m not sure

why mom cries holding a corona bottle.  I’m

not sure why children lift their fists against

me.  I’m not sure why Dad silently steers

his head not looking my way.  I’m not sure why

my brother died.  I’m not sure why I want

to leave this place.  I don't know why my

family sits apart in the same home.  I'm not

sure why my mother cheated on my father.

I don't know why my life laughs at me.  I’ll stay 

in shadows of my room as they spit at one another, 

wrapped in my youth blanket tightly, my eyes

growing heavy as Christmas melodies dance

into my ears.  I can't fall asleep without noise.