there is a place

there is a space
a room in my heart
left empty by you..
i fill it with books
and memories..
i cover it in bandages
with the purrs
of a cat
who sits over that hole
fills it with love
'til he jumps off
to the next thing.
there is a hole
i fill with random thoughts
and gestures
and hope
all fleeting
like the clouds..
the fog that rolls in off the hills
across the bay
lost to drowning..
poisoned by sorrow
there is that emptiness
left and never filled
for long longing.

Something by Sondheim

It was
something by Sondheim..
some thing..
that makes me think of you
like he,
wishing his mentor would know..
aren't you proud of me..
proud of you!
if only
I had that way with words.
if only I could be
better like he..
I think of all the stories
if I could write
the light like you..
the things you do.. did.
when you walked the earth
and made generations love
you.. Honorary Uncle
honored by me..
loving your every word.
missing every word,
and your heart and your head..
and you.. Missing you.

Your Beautiful Halo Of Goodness

what if I never met you
you were a person on the street.
never knowing or wanting,
I wouldn't care if you smiled
or said hello,
or wished me well..
We could pass and smile
and never know the strangeness
of our souls.
I would not care if you love
but I would still love you
as I do all humans,
in that colorless way that hopes the best
and wishes we all could get along.
oh!
but that silent brightness
I have seen...
or imagined it so,
shimmering from the depths
and radiating outward
when perhaps you weren't looking,
the thing I keep remembering,
hidden beneath your vest.
closed off from the world,
your beautiful halo of goodness.

My Tactless Wonders

for the friends I've met but yet to make*

i think of you tho
remind myself
not to..
which brings the image
of you all the more
into view.

i tell myself it is
not truly you
i am thinking of
but an ideal,
an idea of truth,
this better hue.

a wish on the lips
to spring forth
an image of us, as if
thinking of you,
you appear august
and fine.

and all my tact-less
wonders
would be forgiven
and we could start
as newly-met friends.
mine.


*Beyond a random 'hello' I seem to always stick my foot in it, saying the wrong thing, asking the wrong questions.. my timing is often horrible it seems, regardless whom I am speaking with.

On the Inside

What are these things we do to make a soul feel worth..less?

We are all living struggles.
Secrets
we keep out of view.
How can I say I am you,
when scars no one can see
may be living within you?
(or me..)


general thoughts that came to mind earlier today while reading Kay Boyle's The Long Walk at San Francisco State (1970)

Weep-Weary Silence (of Bad Poetry)

I

I feel the world cracking around my heart
this plane I do not touch
this world I do not release.
it leaks
like blood from a paper cut
like water from my eyes
a dam waiting to burst,
a soul crushing pain.. this heart.

II

I would tell you your hands
are the creation of universes
and words..
words that universes are created from.
I would tell you I loved you
if I knew, I can not say..
I know you not but my heart sees you
and has flown
only to return
a thought of you like the olive branch;
A shore of meaning only it knows.

peace.
at rest.
content.
joy.

III

My head runs to thoughts.
be kind.
be quiet.
say nothing.
do not breathe
do not believe.
do not know.
do not move.. or say or share.
do nothing.
do not lose.
do not gain.
do not live.
do not betray your heart.

(oh but these words.. once committed but not spoken)
do not exist.

IV

My heart runs like an engine..
a fast moving train ahead of thought.
love. love. love. LOVE!
love is the every only god..
be not afraid.
do.
know.
feel!
speak.
share.
shout!
dance!
live!
be kind.
be honest.
be true.
be giving.
be joyful.
be glad of this.
(whatever this is.. thislove! thisfriendship! THIS! Happiness!)
be not afraid.
love. always love.


V

Above all else.. love.
and when my head catches up
with my heart.
oh the dam burst!
oh the weeping!
the despair.
oh love that can not be shouted.
can not be shared.
can not be given but quietly.
through silent meditation and hope.
through kind thoughts
and wishes.
through silent energy
poured forth in waves of muse..
through skies of blue
and teary, gray-clouded,
splattering thunder-rattling rain!
restless night wandering..
floor-pacing contemplating
friendship hoping, helpful wanting to be
of service to you.
a cup, a hand, a foot.. a friend.
a heart on mend.

NaPoWriMo 2014: Days 2-8

08

I thought I saw a halo
beneath the neon sunbeams
darting like a fish without water
along the structured columns.

Why don't I say hello?
Why didn't I say Hi?
What's wrong with me
You didn't see

Or maybe you did and that's what
made you leave.
I think too much.
too little.
The physical world brings me down.


07

this song makes no sense,
my sense of irony is lacking.
I felt I wanted to kiss the sky.
so blue
so passionately lacking in sadness.

I wish I could hug the world some days.
I wish
I could just crawl off an die.
I wish I could tell you why,
sometimes it's not worth my while..
the earth just wants to swallow me up.



06
empty bowl
filled up..
nerves
firing
on all what?
my
heart surrenders
and life commences
different shades
of blue and grey
and white
and
night
the bowl empties.
empty.



05

U
niversity
people passing by.
don't worry.. be shy
My mind is in my work
it's a million
miles
a
way from here.
not where
you walk.. when I saw
you minding your own
business
of a cafe to sit.
thinking
of my next
shot of
espresso no, iced.
Just watching
people passing by.



04
detached.
like a balloon on a
string.
a mindless thing.

03
your smile
I want to mean hello
I am here
no worries
it's OK
no fan fiction business
just sincerity.



02
muse
gone but not..
forgotten!
just sleeping.

waiting for you
the magic moment
when
my muse meets you
who uses
me like a magic
elixir.

lucky 13.. lucky number
8..
get your
wait!
why won't my muse
work for me?

luck rubs off
another
just add
fate.

I never trust the smile
that says
you're lucky.
lucky for you.
your muse.

NaPoWriMo 2014: Day 01

NaPoWriMo a sad attempt to ramp up to attempt the April National Poetry Writers Month Challenge.. my muse strikes me at add times.. so this was a dismal failure trying to write 8 poems in a day.. I gave up. "Maybe Next Year" as I say with NaNoWriMo.. or maybe when the muse hits again.. usually it hits other people.. oh well.


01
So grateful
today is not that day

I have nothing to say
the future lays

before me..
options