To Feel Divine

***

i want you to treat my body like manna

to believe it sent from heaven

and wander 40 years in the desert

just to be fed by it.

i want you to treat my body like communion

to believe it is salvation

and let it dissolve on your tongue

only after you've forgiven

your sins.

i want you to treat my body like a temple

a sanctuary within.

*** 

If Only

*** 

darling, i am sorry

i have been reckless with myself

it started as a child

contemplating that sea of

sorrow and poem

of death

closing my eyes and seeing

ever receding

darkness

i told myself that the odds were against 

the ten of us

and if one had to go

let it be me

what i mistook for generosity

really just a flighty heart

so eager to run, even if it meant

off the ends of a flat earth

for if I am honest

i've never taken good care

of myself

and other things

on loan

and so i rented myself 

for far less than silver

made tunes with the devil 

to save my soul

said foolish things

that i would die young

that it had ever felt so

that i would take the money

and live to 50

rather than live fully

poor

survivor's guilt paving my steps

the blank page ever on my mind

knowing it must be filled

one way, or another

with me, or my brother

darling, i am sorry

i have been reckless with myself

and now repeating myself

i don't know how many words 

i have left to give

on one of those nights

i imagined you coming to me

in dreams like Athena

waking up, refreshed and alone

having wrapped my skin

in a mannequin

and left me to admire

the moonlight again

and in the days

i imagined you 

as photokeratitis
the sun-blind spot

of my mind

darling, i am sorry

i have been reckless with myself

and find myself debating Meg Ryan again

as i did one St. Augustine summer

that lesson in loneliness

the fiery shadow of a girl i had never met

oh, how I wish you would

if only 

darling, i am sorry

i have been reckless with myself

in the face of that turbid ebb and flow

the pebbles scattered at my feet

the Aegean in my bones

begin, and cease, and then again begin

the note of eternal sadness

and Jim Croce on the radio

who died when he was just 30

the day before the airwaves heard

him sing

I've got a name
And I carry it with me like my daddy did
but I'm living the dream that he kept hid

flying toward that dream
clipped by a pecan tree

darling, i am sorry

i have been reckless with my self 

but there never seems 

to be enough time

to do the things

you want to do

once you find them

and i've looked around

enough to know

that you're the one 

i want to go

through time with 

*** 

Surrender

***

i'd like to see you in the morning

when sunlight sifts through the trellis of your hair 

and into the vineyards of my hands

bearing fruit through my quiet tracing stare

cherry blossom lips beneath black lipstick

orange bicycles passing beneath us

wouldn't it be nice to see that sun rise

on you and I 

*** 

Back to the well

*** 

i used my good words on you today

come back tomorrow, 

i would say

***

Missing

***

can't miss what you never had, 

she said, so i waited

by the old boardwalks and

planks into tempests

singing Marley with Bintang for sale

sunset rock on us

let me tell you about Indonesian moonshine

and Japanese saki

as night falls and we fall asleep

exhausted by our own weight

borne on by inescapable

fate

***

Easter Egg Houses

***

this song comes on the radio

and it’s making me smile

might not see you in a while

my hard loving Georgia girl

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

stealing glances and chances

getting closer, and it shows

i don’t mind, I’m just feeling shy

while basking in your afterglow

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

going back, to the very first time

when we spoke over the phone

who knew what some words could do

to some fools with more nothings to lose

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

now you're here and something is clear

you are bowling right over me

your name like a drug on my mind

your hands like ecstasy

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

olive skin and original sin

of the kind that I hadn’t known

brown eyes and harmless crimes

as we kissed while the moonlight shone

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

spun around as we spun around

do you mind if I take it slow?

still can’t breathe through the melody

of my heart beating to and fro

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

seal rocks and mountain tops

mosaic stairs and the view of you

parthenons and perfection lost

imperfection so fresh and new

(whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa whoa) 

the waves beating on against us

borne ceaselessly to the past

as you spoke of nostalgia, and

I thought, yes,

this is how nostalgia gets

(whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa)

Acropolis

***

The Greeks knew this

the optical illusion

A building built of straight lines

In order to have the impression of perfection

No lines can be straight

and the rocks run smoother

the more people

have walked them before

limestone once paved in marble

eight columns in front

seventeen on the sides

one was added

and it changed everything

even gods and goddesses

had to face the sun

rising

***

10,000 (meter) view

***

the alps outside my window

and jackson browne in my ears

being reminded of my failures

all over again

well, i keep on walking

regret right through my mind

the valleys keep on peeking

carving out the time

the lines that they are etching

late for the sky, and

my eyes

when I

like Meg Ryan

found the perfect awful words

if I truly knew about us, 

we wouldn't be having

these conversations anyway

you said you would remember them

for the rest of your life

and as soon as you did, i knew 

that so would I

***

Love Trees (St. Augustine)

---

i dream of a place

where i could take care of you, 

hold your broken sores and body

beneath the oak trees and sabal palms

that grow together

love trees, they call them, in that space

you took us each winter.

love trees, where the legend is 

that if lovers kiss they'll remain together

and if parents kiss their kids,

their children will never leave.

--- 

Rest in Peace

--- 

i grieve 

for those i know

and those i don't

and for who i was

when i met them

and will be gone

when this, too, 

should 

pass

--- 

This Cancerous Depression

---

there is a lump in my chest
and it is spreading
making it hard to breathe
undetermined
if it is benign, or
malignant
it feels like me, doesn't it?
like what's growing
was always there
all it took
was the tick of time
and it is here
and they give me pills for it
make my stomach turn
against its self
or what it is becoming
that i am

weeds uprooted still
grow weeds
where they lay
and i soon beside them

---

myopia

*** 

can't see past the window

can't see past the door

can't see past the bedpost

can't see past the past

all the near-sightedness

found only in love,

and sadness.

***