If only I…(National Poetry Month)

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unsplash-logoDemetrius Washington

 

If only I had leaned into that touch
that September morning before you left
the sheets pooling at your hips
my body sore from the night prior

I had lain awake all night
your head on my chest wishing
for the morning to refuse to break across the sky
leaving us naked and bathed in darkness

I saw the hurt in your eyes
at the sudden sullenness in my gaze
as I bit down on a thousand words
of panic at the back of my throat

I loved you
with your careless hair and your soft grey eyes
and your warm body and your powerful back
the shape of your lips that kissed me
and the submissiveness

If only I’d taken care
to dress with you and walk you down
the flight of stairs to my door
and kissed you once more before sending you away
into the morning sun

You had another life
was it a job? A home? A wife?
you wouldn’t say and I didn’t ask
when we met at the airport bar

I didn’t care then
but I do care now
if only I’d listened to the voice that warned me
somewhere underneath my second
bourbon and seven
when I saw the tie you were wearing and smiled

You were here on business for a month
and you were my lover as well
and we worked til daybreak often
laughing and drinking and lovemaking

Do you want me to come back?
No, I didn’t want you to leave
If only I’d said that
I wouldn’t be left here with only the smell
of your body on my bedclothes

Til the end of my days (National Poetry Month)

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unsplash-logoJames Bold

 

IT was more than just where I lay
staring up at the ceiling of stars above my head
In your love, I had found a rose garden
white blooms as far as I could see
and there I thought I had come to the river
to drink and dance and sing

but the more I loved you
the less steady I was on my feet
until the citrus scent threw me over
and I fell backward into the briars of emersion

In exquisite pain, I lay here
my clothes were torn and my hands wounded
tangled in a miserable mess
as the vines wrapped right around me

It was then I realized the danger I was in
and it was then I realized water didn’t feed them
and to my horror, I didn’t care
as I watch a crimson drop of my own blood
fall to the ground and disappear

It was then I realized how much Pain I was in
and it was then I realized how little I cared
for I would lay here dying til the end of my days
in your garden under the stars above

Til the end of my days

Because I fell in love with you again (National Poetry Month)

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unsplash-logoLubov’ Birina

 

Because you came to me
in the night
knocking on my door
gentle raps, barely taps
but enough to send me to the door,
wrapping myself in a robe as I went

There you stood
windswept hair, leather jacket, and doe eyes
smelling of Burberry cologne and nervousness
while the thunder rolled in the pitch dark
and lightning flashed
because the mother nature was conspiring

I’d missed you for weeks, it seemed
Maybe it was a lifetime or two
the warmth of your voice
the way my name tumbled from your lips

I thought you’d never come back
and because of the wind I shivered
and retreated back through my doorway
before you stepped inside

before I could speak
you wrapped your arms around me
I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh
because I missed you – I wanted to freeze time

My hands reached up the million miles
to your sweet face and held it
and felt you tremble under my touch
because of your bashfulness I kissed your temples

I could smell the sweetness of your sweat
the hunger in your touch
and when our mouths collided for the first time
I tasted the whisky you’d drank embolden you

It was two a.m but I didn’t care
I took you by the hand and led you upstairs
our hearts pounding away with each step
because of anticipation, I shivered again

But this time you covered me
somewhere in the middle of the night
you made me call out your name
and I did so, willingly
because somewhere in the middle of the night
I fell in love with you, again

Yin and Yang of us (Poem)

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I am not me, alone
Not anymore
There is no self identifier
I, has become we
me has become thee
It’s all combined, now

You are not you, alone
When you walk through that door
the other half of you greets the other half of me
Us, transformed
morphed, molded,
immersed into another being, now

When your gone away
to wherever your labor takes you
I count the minutes and seconds
till the rest of me walks through the door

When I’m here alone
You labor along side of me
your thoughts become my words
I ponder what you’ve taught me
and give it away to the world

Not codependent, symbiotic
my breath, my body,
your heartbeat, your laughter
Yin and Yang
we are – individually- part of the whole, now

My messiah (Poem)


(Photo: Simon Wijers)


There isn’t a place I’ve been that I’ve not run from

When midnight struck the clock on the wall

And late became the hour

And like the damned in fairy-tale legends

Morning set my feet to flee before the sun crest over the horizon upon the 

very next day

When ashes all settled from the bridges I’ve burnt

Whose broken bodies lay limp over yawning 

Deep canyons

With my fingers smelling once again of gasoline and tear drops

I bore the Weight of myriad transgressions on ever bent neck and sloping shoulders

My feet once tender had turned to stone 

My face once fat had become lean

Sweet smiles lines became deep set and turned to frown lines 

At the corners of my mouth

With ragged and raging and fearful soul

I turned my back on heaven and the son and my home

I was the prodigal son unwilling to beg forgiveness

For made up sins wrapped neatly in heavenly torment

I was Jonah who’d conquered that whale with simple reason

I was Paul and Silas bound beaten and bloody

Who instead of praying, fucked my way out of that jail

And like the damned and unrepentant third man on the cross

I thought forever my poor soul would roam

Burning bridges and abandoning beds before sun up

Unable to call any place, any house, my home

But twisted fate is always twisted and it twisted me once more 

As it Bound me over naked and afraid

Unrepentant vagabond born again hedonist 

Begging for an early grave

But then with tenderness you spoke in my ear

And upon your feet I spilled my hearts discontent

I let you know among which shadows I danced within

And repeated back to you all I learned about religion 

With Grace’s supernatural understanding

You took the can of gasoline from my left hand

The Zippo lighter right out of my left

You bathed the dust from off my feet with sweet oils

And for the first time, made love to me that night

You blue eyed angel with dark hair and tender faith

You’ve restored and take care of my soul

And when you love me you love all of me 

All of who and where and what I’ve been

And now that the clock is winding steadily to midnight

I lay my head upon your chest, little Messiah, and wonder at the mysteries of God.

Til my lover comes back home (poem)

 

 

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(Photo by Taylor Durrer)

I can smell rain soaked earth
at five thirty in the mornin’
have my headphones in
two steppin’ to merry mystic music
as the night-wind is still
tangible  around me

Leash in hand, dog at my side
I mouth the lyrics as I walk
counting the footsteps as I step
in cadence with the Rhythm
its the replacement beat for the absence of my lover
who’s gone to work before the sun breaks over the horizon

I’m the king, however
Fred Astair nor Ginger Rogers
couldn’t hold a candle to the smile
slipping on my face this morning
I am the headliner, dog walker extraordinaire
present half of a heart half missing
catching cadence to Rock n Roll
til my lover comes back home

Thank you (Poem)

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((Photo by Alyssa Smith)

April is National Poetry Month and in my little corner of the literary world there’s some bad stuff that happened and then some good stuff and then some fantastic things. But tonight, my poem is about the LGBTQI community. Most notably, those who’ve died. So, to the spirits of those people who surround me right now at my desk – this one is for you.

 

I love you in ways I can’t explain
in tongues I don’t know
in lives long since passed and ones
that haven’t been lived yet

I owe to you my life
for the life you laid down for me
when death came by way of AIDs,
suicide, neglect, or brutality
your very being and bravery
thought me into existence

I am not blood of your blood
but I am bonded to your soul
my forefathers and foremothers
we share one thing, one strong thread
and that is the truth – this space – where
we chose to live

There is no way to trace me back
no DNA to tie me to you
but through your courage and love
I stand solid in my marriage and
am the realization of the dream you had
for yourself

So, i honor you today, my family
my brothers and sisters and uncles and Kin
be ye black or white or beige or red
be ye muslim or Jew or native American
simply by saying, ” Thank you.”

Thank you – for what you did.

I was all that was left (Poem)

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(Photo by Xavier Sotomayor )

I was so superficial
I said things that I thought people wanted to hear
never understanding what the words that dripped out of my mouth meant
words like, loyalty, love, friendship

I was a walking caricature
militant and angry and mostly afraid
longing for something I couldn’t then comprehend
and when I held it in my hands
turned my head away because even then, I couldn’t look at it
he was too beautiful for me to hold onto

I was a pretty smile and a good time
quick with a joke or self-deprecation
but inside I was slowly dying
I was gay but prided myself on being a republican
begging to be fit in, to be accepted, to have someone breathe into me the breath of life and make me real

And then you showed up and saw right through the party I pretended to be.
To you, I wasn’t a roll in the sheets
a dishtowel to wipe the sweat away
there was something inside of this shell begging to be loved.

I battle hardened with storm like fury
used to the disappointments of life
and used to minimizing myself for the comfort of others
but you loved me past all that
when you were nice to me – my mask fell away

And I was all that was left and for you – that was good enough.

Little Messiah (poem)

​There isn’t a place I’ve been that I’ve not run from

When midnight struck the clock on the wall

And late became the hour

And like the damned in fairy-tale legends

Morning set my feet to flee before the sun crest over the horizon upon the very next day
When ashes all settled from the bridges I’ve burnt

Whose broken bodies lay limp over yawning 

Deep canyons

With my fingers smelling once again of gasoline and tear drops

I bore the Weight of myriad transgressions on ever bent neck and sloping shoulders
My feet once tender had turned to stone 

My face once fat had become lean

Sweet smiles lines became deep set and turned to frown lines 

At the corners of my mouth

With ragged and raging and fearful soul

I turned my back on heaven and the son and my home
I was the prodigal son unwilling to beg forgiveness

For made up sins wrapped neatly in heavenly torment

I was Jonah who’d conquered that whale with simple reason

I was Paul and Silas bound beaten and bloody

Who instead of praying, fucked my way out of that jail
And like the damned and unrepentant third man on the cross

I thought forever my poor soul would roam

Burning bridges and abandoning beds before sun up

Unable to call any place, any house, my home
But twisted fate is always twisted and it twisted me once more 

As it Bound me over naked and afraid

Unrepentant vagabond born again hedonist 

Begging for an early grave
But then with tenderness you spoke in my ear

And upon your feet I spilled my hearts discontent

I let you know among which shadows I danced within

And repeated back to you all I learned about God
With Grace’s supernatural understanding

You took the can of gasoline from my left hand

The Zippo lighter right out of my left

You bathed the dust from off my feet with sweet oils

And for the first time, made love to me that night
You blue eyed angel with dark hair and tender faith

You’ve restored and take care of my soul

And when you love me you love all of me 

All of who and where and what I’ve been

And now that the clock is winding steadily to midnight

I lay my head upon your chest, little Messiah, and wonder at the mysteries of God.