5 AM

Five-o-clock comes early
day light is reluctant
even when eight hours
was enough

cats scratch at a crack
they know the routine
almost better than myself

when the warmth of bed layers
starts a battle with snooze buttons
the toss and turn of the sheets
finally settles into a secure arm
wrapping itself around
the most
inopportune time

5am is early
when his chest is
more comfortable than the pillow
when the deep rhythm of his heart
more soothing, alluring than
the most hypnotic of sounds

the air feels almost arctic
so early that coffee
isn't even worth the effort

5am is early.
5am pays the bills.

When Dreams Interpret Themselves

I could charge Circe De Sole admission
for such chaos could not be choreographed
but under the ruse of beauty,
There must be a master.

I'm late leaving work.
Classic frustration.
Textbook stress.
Millions of things stopping me
from my goal. Will I get coached?
I wasn't supposed to be here anyways.
I slip, trip, and fall
and teach old people new things
and rush and rush and rush
but get no where
walking under ladders
and around puddles
seeing lightning and familiar faces

My mind knows this is a farce
But humors the stagehands
with a traveling act
amazing how many people
can fit on this stage
that wasn't here the last time I turned around
But now I move with a purpose
to be first against the railing
separating spectators and performers
in this street show.

The lights dim
we all hush
fidget
become still
then


Too many things to look at once.
I must ignore some
focus on other
There are people in a box
Judge/Jury/Executioner/Accused
All crying out for help
People I know
reaching for my arms
Puritans, Indians, clowns
I hate clowns
All running and turning
around without a purpose
An old friend looks around desperately
he screams
"I'M GOING TO COMMIT SUICIDE! SEE?!"
and lifts a page tied

around his neck with a string

An old lady

with running makeup

blond hair piled high 

and falling in tired pieces

sits slumped at a school desk crying,

"I'M SCARED! I'M ALONE! 

Another wanders through the crowd
White robe falling open
dazed and confused
as a still drugged rape victim

Boys dressed in black
stand still and staring among
the constant movement
strobe lights flash
colors fade in and out
they are unmoving

Until they all disappear
and then start marching
flipping
cartwheeling
walking on their hands
in a great moving grid

chimes and bells simultaneously
speeding up
and slowing down
to tinkle into the rapid crescendo
of an end.
Everything
pirouettes into the air
hanging on an easy breath
and pauses in a prolonged moment
of perfectly posed stillness

As I leave the arena
clumsily tripping over air
and stairs and climbing
awkwardly placed fences and rails
just to make my way to the parking lot
where a slew of kids are playing naked
in a cage
while their parents wave for a bus.

After all, I didn't want to stay this late anyways...


Why was I in such a hurry?

A young Asian boy smiles
the soft and shy flirty smile
that says,
"I've noticed you,
now you've noticed me
we'll probably never speak
but I'll think of you a lot..."
Have I seen him before?
Mayhaps he was next to the mute
with a similarly silly grin and
nothing but grunts
as I tumbled down after the show
onto his shoes

An old boss calls me
interupting this moment between strangers.
WHY?
It's been years since we spoke
Am i thinking of her?
or she of me?

I still know you're all hanging there by threads

finished in a floating swan 

downward facing dog 

with MC Escher's stairs all tucked under your arms

like brief cases 

disguised as an elegantly suspended thoughts 

ready to resume with the cut of the string

but the chaos that will ensue 

will never again be the same as it was 

for those two minutes on stage

which was probably three hours of REM

I almost forget

Sometimes when I call,
I almost ask my mom
how are you?
I haven't called you in so long

I know your house is empty,
but it haunts my dreams
playing host to more
than birthdays and christmas

Your face is a ghost

watching silently from the walls

lasting memories of happiness

cheering on my own

I remember

my mother

attempting to cultivate interest

In all things green.

I remember trekking

through woods

searching for

dry land fish

or rare wild flowers

with heavy feet and

long dramatic sighs

sitting on rotting logs

as chiggers and ticks

Made me host.

I remember planting a ring

around a bird bath

but losing the interest

and dedication

to water

or weed

And eventually just forgot.

I've killed a cactus.

Not once.

But twice.

After promises that it was

Virtually impossible.

But I'm trying.

The birthday daisies

Aren't dead yet.

And the tomatoes I got

just this week

aren't lonely

or sad a

Or soft yet.

Just need a new bed

To rest their roots.

I'm trying to fertilize

this black thumb of death

into something more productive

now that I have a few more rings

On my own trunk.

Accident

Every time I see lights turning red

I resist the temptation to

speed on through,

hoping that maybe

some unobservant driver

in a hurry

speeds off the line.

As I sit patiently

waiting my turn,

I watch my tiny fiberglass bubble

skidding across the intersection,

wrapping itself around

the steel grill

of some old indestructible carriage,

heavy with time.

I can almost hear

the sound of my own head

smacking against the window,

feel the warm red stickiness

bleeding into my vision.

Its hard not to tempt fate.

Driving fast on those

dark roller coaster rural roads.

Especially in Fall.

Knowing somewhere there is a

many pointed buck

leading his lady across the road.

I find myself wishing to see

the proverbial

"deer in the headlights."

I can almost sense my muscles reacting,

the surge of adrenaline,

swerving at the last second.

A second too late.

I can hear the tires squealing

in protest

against the change of inertia.

Centrifugal force

pinning me to my seat

to watch with

anticipating gleeful horror

an antler or maybe a tree branch

shatter through the windshield.

But I drive on wondering,

what its like

gasping for air

through a punctured windpipe

and choking on your own blood

when no one is around.

Is a mind like this

still under warranty?

My car may have full coverage

but my body does not.

Unless you count a body bag.

Language Barrier

We sit in silence,

me only slightly uncomfortable,

in the palatable air.

Because what do you say

to someone

when you hate small talk,

and that someone's presence

in your life only adds up

to less than a year?

Less than a month.

Maybe less than the hours in the week or

your number of yearbook photos?

Sometimes silence is better

than trying to decipher

broken english,

or staring blankly as they

babble on in native tongues

more eloquent than my own.

Neither of us really trying

to understand the other

because it will be years

or maybe just months

before we meet again.

This silence is golden,

the only unilingual here,

and everyone speaks it

but not frequently,

awkwardly,

and it only softly says

"I'm sorry."

If these walls could talk

would they tell me of the tears

shed from my absence?

Of the longing families feel

for lost daughters?

Would I even be able to understand?

or only nod acknowledgment in

with appropriately cued inflection?

Bees

evil insects
necessary of botany
you haunt my dreams still
even though unwarranted
since we rarely had a run in
or should I say sting in
I remember that time
running barefoot through the yard
just trying to help my grandmother
by taking out the trash
early summer heat drew you out
for sweet dandelions.
I probably hurt you more
considering my country feet
were your death sentence
I tried hard not to cry
as i dumped a bag as large myself
and hobbled back to my grandpa's lap
so he could spit out a
warm wad of his favorite tobacco
to waste between my toes

Or how bout that time you got my cousin?
I was a bit older
grimaced at her shrill shriek from the pool
I remember the bittersweet slime
streaking my teeth
grinning at my mother
who dared me to chew this time
someone had to take the sting out

but your innocent accidents
aren't what haunt me
but your ducking and dodging
and the promises from my father
that you wouldn't attack
as i stood paralyzed on our porch
petrified, holding my breath
eyes squeezed shut
trying to find some little bit of courage
to sprint off the porch
past those large swinging archs
where every now and then
you would pause
to hover right in my face
almost as if taunting
I wanted to smack you right from the air
but could never over come
the fear of your fury

I know now you don't even have a stinger.

Elizabeth keeps her words in the rain

Dark clouds on the horizon
some say a storm is brewin'
though you couldn't tell
from the the dust dancin' round
this barren ground
despite desperate choreography
from the natives

its been years since this land
was wet from her kiss
spent years surviving
in the silence of her skin

Honesty is in the air
hangs thick like summer humidity
wind 's pickin' up
runs over through around
those cactus thorns
like an old lover's tongue

Elizabeth keeps her words in the rain
bare feet pound out rhythms
not knowing what they're asking for
fingers wiggle at the sun
beggin' for poetry

be careful what you ask for
they say when it rains it pours.

infectious happiness

Your lips hold serenades
a tongue heavy and wet with poetry
and teeth so perfect true
that no lie would ever dare fall from them

wonder gets written across my pores
with every exposure
my flushed complexion in danger
you should never be allowed to be unhappy

your smile is infectious
lights up my day
in every conceivable cliche
i feel it spread across my face
with no immunity

it adds years to my life
that worry and
stress and cigarettes
were determined to steal from me

fights off global warming
cures AIDS
gives angels wings
that smile saves lives

Hang your high heads,
heavy with the weight of your life,
hair gone gray from stress.
Is it in shame or prayer?
Tears drip down
cold on my skin,
matting my hair.
I look away,
afraid to see you
break under pressure.

Your fingers curl
brittle with seasonal arthritis.
You're still young yet,
but i hear your bones
moaning,
your joints stretching,
cracking,
and I fear for your life
and mine alike.

Missing You

i wonder if you think of me
a pagan in your presence
graced by a glance
a touch
maybe meant not soley for me
but everytime
i felt worthy
if only for that moment
but i should have known
your calliber could never be content
with the likes of me
can you even remember the way i taste?
give it not a second thought
this is just me
missing you

Apparition of Faith

When you left
my pillow clung to your scent
like a mother to her child
And when the door shut behind you
it might have been a boulder on my chest
I find rapture every morning in your eyes
and redemption in your hands
so without you here
I'm on my knees
and your name hangs heavy
from my tongue
Your kiss is my cross
a burden to bear
I'll be your sacrifice
if you'll be my savior
You're an apparition for my faith
the only heaven worth believing in

anxiety

the air
wont stay in
is being
s u c k e d out
without grace
by some obscure thief
or maybe the exit
that I'm unaware of
constantly searching for
my body is not my own
when every movement is
s l o w m o t i o n
my muscles are made of milk
being flash frozen
by liquid nitrogen signals
my brain is not my own
being observed by
every stranger here
but belongs to a child
just discovering panic
wishing for mother's womb
the warm weightless ambiance
and rhythmic sound of safety

someone please tell me to breathe

Children

I hate children
despise their innocent ignorance
the simplicity of every look
of not having to know
anything
it's hard to watch
as they discover the
sound of their own voice
insistent on hearing it constantly
as if to be reassured
its one thing that can never
be taken from them

its hard to understand
how a simple look
is entertaining
i must have the face of a clown
or maybe they see something
i missed in the mirror
this morning
or hear a joke I haven't told yet

it's not fair
that they look me in the eyes
and cry
without understanding
why
and I just stand alone
unsure of what to do

I often wonder what it's like
to have no shame in my tears
I'm sure I knew at one time
where did I learn to build such a dam

kidnapped

when you said you would
kidnap me
did you mean it
did you mean to pull me away
away from all these questions
and concerns
pull me up from
under this water
this ice cold tomb
where I suffocate
from the pressure
Did you mean it?
that I would be blind folded
whisked away to some
far away fairy tale
to become some spoiled
princess in your palace
did you mean
that I could finally have some
reason to laugh and play
in a childhood that
I neglected myself
only now watched over
with heavy adult eyes
Did you mean it?

I'm waiting for the sack
over my head.

Not tonight

you sing to me
in poetry
in loaded lyrics
the chords cry out
from under your fingers

I know how they feel.

my palms sweat
as yours cradle notes
and harmonics
and I'm jealous
of the way you hold your guitar
the way you close your eyes to remember
of your honesty

my heart falls to the floor
somewhere around my feet
my heart is in my hands
anywhere, but where it should be
at a moment like this
my insides are cold
all the blood is in my head
my skin burns
unsure of what to do
resist the urge to
crawl into your lap
like that lovely guitar
knowing you already play me so well

But I just leave
I can't fall in love with you tonight.

have you no certainty?

It's Wendesday again
and she's on the cusp
of changing her mind,
again.
Woman! Have you no certainty?
Her fickle frailties will get her in trouble
again.

for your own good

try hard
not to fall for more than this pretty face
i'm a heartbreak away
and a tease on your senses
and if you aren't careful
you'll find yourself
thinking of me
before falling asleep
and having fantasies shared by others
for it seems not so uncommon
to find youself in awe of such an entity
this is not arrogance
but more so concern
for your well being
as i cannot live up to your expectations
to be consistantly amazing
and the disappointment
mine and yours alike
would be more than
the pleasant delusion could defend against
besides love is overated
especially when it idealizes the ideas
so let it rest at admiration
for all parties envolved

Dance

they danced
a slow sensuous dance
across natural beige
they twirled her around
leaving behind a whisper
of satin and silk
with a smile her eyes closed
letting him lead
smooth and silent
they traced the floor
drawing a picture
so perfectly clear
he had to remind her
to breath.

your head in my hands
rain down
tiny drops
dark snakes
between my fingers
tangled desperately
through out your thoughts
dripping cold against my skin
I have to
constantly remind myself to
breathe
but each breath
is more of a gasp
a beg
a plea
for more
or just a break
so that I remember
the real world
outside your eyes
and i'm burning
from the inside out
or the outside in
tiny sparks jumping across
my skin
in the pattern of your lips
your fingertips
every nerve is white hot magnesium
burning every circuit pathway to my brain
until each feeble thought
is a muddle moan
a meek cry
a protest against you leaving
your marks
on my soul