Being human

I reach for your hand

though I know you may push me away

your pain is too acute

to ignore

so I reach not certain

that you will accept

that which I offer

freely

openly

without reservations

or expectations.

I am worthy of your trust

though unknowing of this

you may not accept me

or my heartfelt gestures.

I reach for your hand

hoping that my touch

will convey

all that I cannot convey

with words.

Sometimes in this world

quite suddenly,

integrity is seen

and a moment is born

and changes those who witness

the giver and the receiver

blessed with knowledge

that in this world still exists

those who will give freely

and those who will accept with thanks.

Like sand in my palm.

Like sand in my palm

you drift away

not one to be held

or kept still

running always running

looking for things not found

or meant to ever be

you think

in your silent way

that the truths are hidden from you

when in truth they are in plain sight

and have always been

regarding you in deepest sadness

for what you will not see

to busy looking for answers

in places far and deep

longing for what you already own

what caresses you when you sleep

like sand you will not be still

never content with sips of water

always looking like a starving soil

for more to fill you

for more to complete you

for something that rushes by

and never settles

like shifting sand

under your feet.

Gone but not forgotten

Erase me from all your memory banks.
Brush my smile from your eye.
Turn about and seek the sirens call.
While I wait here and wonder,
when it will be that you realize
that I am not so casually forgotten.

I am in your dreams deepest feeling.
Your breaths trembling sigh.
I am the stars that watch you walk.
I am the bed on which you lie.

You seek to find that mystical dream
so illusive and ghostly drawn.
Thinking she lives in the breath of angels.
While I sit here in mud making friends
of children with dirty faces.

Destroy that which makes you think of me.
Cleanse every trace away.
Rip up the book of my touch.
Wish my thoughts away.

I am in the shine that glimmers
just before start of day.
I am in the heat of your passion.
I am the bump and sway.

I am the scar that reminds you
of every pain and cry.
I am that illusive shiver.
I am hello, goodbye.

Delete my every comment.
Destroy my every song.
Only to wonder confused, in darkest night.
Why am I still not gone?

The Paul Poem

* cause it’s about time he had one of his own.

I can see you there
sitting in that dumpy chair
that you refuse to toss away
with a dog nearby
thumping a tail in hello
while you rustle about
making cheerful messes
and sit like a kinetic statue
contemplating the cosmos
for an hour or twenty
while the world buzzes by
and you give a sigh
waiting for the universe
to catch up.

Turn me over.

I want cows to give chocolate milk.
I want butterflies to provide real butter.
I want a rubber band to play my favorite song
and Jumping beans to dance with me.

I want the moon to be made of cheese
I want pigs to have ponytails
and love letters to fill the air with pink.

I want the things I think about
to circle in the air
to be seen
to amuse
to make a heart beat lighter
and a smile to form on lips that frown

I want to see the world much brighter
even if it is upside down.

meld

My serious is quite comfortable

with my silly side attached

they make very good companions

though one sometimes dominates

and has to beg pardon

when overstepping boundaries

best left uncrossed

merrily they make their way

entwined and understood

they need each other you see

balance

harmony

the core truths of my mottled skin

the wings that allow my flight

the air that allows my joy to circle

the union that allows me to be

that rainbow of color

that lives in my closed eyes

my open grin

and my wildly beating heart.

feel the family

I look at her and smile

for she is unaware

quite often

that I find her amusing

in her very way

in her very skin

she is amusing

in the way that brings softness

and not giggles

she brushes at her hair

bits of thread sway

amid her flaming locks

but they stay intact and steady

and I am glad

for their tenacious hold

upon her

I smile and lean

ever so gently

against the doorframe

as I admit

to myself only

that this is what

the word

family feels like.

Distant shore

Standing on that distant shore

I listen to the waves

as they do

as they have done

long before me

long before all

and will continue

long after me

long after all

this thought brings contentment

for roots I have

and dreams I embrace

knowing there is always time

age is not a question

it is but a figure that wanders

and explains my wisdom

no more than that

for I am always learning

more that I never knew

and this brings youth

and newness

no matter the age I bear

in my bones

I stand here

on this distant shore

and gaze upon the horizon

waiting

for the moment to come

when I shall leap

and fly

like a bird

who has just learned

how to fly.

Soft truth

Walking gently through the woods
I pause often and ponder much
for having only my heart to gaze upon
I work it into exhaustion
until I need this moment
to let go, release, accept.

I am only me
and I must take into my heart that soft grace
for a time
to remind me
that I need not fulfill
anyones wish
save my own
though my heart longs
to be that which makes
you love me.

I must recall
with patient thought
that which spirits whisper
into my ignorant ears
If I am to be loved
truly
I must be loved as I am
not as
I attempt to be

to do less would be folly
for who then would they love?
an image? a fantasy?
forever to be playing a role
not myself?

Nay, love, nay.
I must recall
that which I know but fret over
wanting to be more pleasing to your eye
I am I
and I am what you seek
I need only wait
for you to find me
and tell me so.

Divinity.

What you seek you cannot find
until it comes

what you long for will not come
until it arrives

what you ask for will not be given
until it is ready

what you scream for will not answer
until it is heard

what your soul needs will not be found
until it is given

what your faith requires will not be seen
until it opens your heart
until it opens you mind
until it recreates your soul.

Inner core.

Time passes here

and I cannot call it back

though I linger longer than I should

over fancies and daydreams

a smile carving my face

I am but a turkey at times.

I ponder if I am merely wasting time

making wishes

or if these wishes are somehow vital

to my state of grace.

Who knows, why question?

that which I balance

somehow

interweaving into something

that reflects

somewhat

the inner core

of my me.

Sensing humor.

I study the body in the mirror
and try not to think of elephants
and how we have much in common

I giggle
cause the thought, though annoying
is quite humorous
just the same

I wiggle my bottom
and smile
for thoughts of vanity
do not much offend
so much as pass
fleetingly behind

my sense
of the ridiculous
and I am just honest enough
to admit
that I am.

You were saying?

I have a bird in my hand,

There are 2 more in that bush

Whats with all the birds today?

I saw that lady,

she threw out her baby,

with her bathwater.

What a dork!

There is this strange man

who eats only apples

each and every day

and never sees a doctor

perhaps like the lady

(who swallowed that damned fly)

he will die.

My wishes keep on turning

into fishes

and horses

for beggars, I suppose.

How my mind does go on

making observations

and connecting dots.

Perhaps I need a break?

I will have to look for a crack to step on.