Spiderwebs and lies

A strand of doubt
A string of hesitation
Braided together with straws of hope
Knitted in patterns
Every lie and empty promise

A spider web glistening
Stuck in the forgotten tree
In a forgotten corner in my head
Near the suitcase
Filled with my skeletons

A net of drama
Heavy with it's prey
Beads of tears
Different sizes
Different tastes

Fingers of honesty
Tug on each string
Drawing straws of hope
The web of uncertainty now comes undone

The glistening pearls fall as rain
Watering bones of fingers
That grow nevermore

Raped pillow

My pillow lay silent, the lights all dim
I gently placed it where your face would have been

I use my fingers to draw your lips
Tracing your eyes and your cute nose's tip

I breathe deep the spot where you neck would have been
Where I would have found your perfumed skin

I close my eyes and gather the sheets
A poor excuse for your body's heat.

Me and my make shift "you" in bed
Me wishing it were you instead.

*** I dedicate this poem to all the molested pillows and to the lonely lovers who soiled them. hehehe

The moth and the flame

It was like looking at a page of “Where’s Wally?” Only in that sea of people, everything except her was Grey.

I chose to be the flame instead of the moth, so I sat at the bar and thought of things I were to say.

I stared at her a long time, certain I’d reel her in with just one look.

And so it happened by the book, one look was all it took.

She sat on the empty stool beside me and yelled to John, the bar keep, "Another glass of wine."

I said, “I got it John. I’ll get the lady her drink as I too need to refill mine.”

From behind the bar counter I muttered “You look like someone who’d like champagne instead."

She laughed , smiled, flipped her hair and gently nodded her head.

“Well then follow me madam the good stuff is in the cellar.” I said

Trying hard not to tumble on my words and keep from turning red.

Finally we arrived in the wine cellar in the slowest "quick minute or two."

I instructed her, "Pick the bottle with the red ribbon round it’s neck that I specially tied for you."

I loved watching her walk and strut her stuff like that.

My hands wished they were touching what my eyes were looking at.

As she walked back, I flashed a smile and opened my mouth to say

“Hello very nice to meet you, my name is Midnight by the way.”

I popped the bottle open and realized I didn’t have a glass.

I also quickly realized there was a hand squeezing my ass.

She took the bottle, looked at me and then she took a sip.

Next thing I knew my eyes closed and her lip was on my lip.

Instinctively, I sipped champagne from her divine tasting lips.

While she groaned ever so lightly as I started grinding her with my hips.

We finally parted for a breath, she kissed my cheek and said

“I feel like I know you, know you from toe to head.”

We kissed a little more before going back outside to finish up the bubbly.

I sat next to her and as she spoke put my arm round her nonchalantly.

Her crossed legs towards me, palm on my thigh, she spoke of random things about her life.

I wasn't listening but knew right there and then, one day she’d be my wife.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” and I replied “Didn’t you say that you had a lass?!”

“I do but she’s doing the same thing tonight and on you I just can’t pass.”

“Alright but you should know I too have a lass,

The most beautiful creature with the most perfectly round face.” :-P (just kidding you get the point)

“Where is she then and what are you doing here with me?”

“Pretending to meet her for the first time on our anniversary!”

We laughed and kissed and held hands under the moon,

Knowing we had to go and leave for home soon.

“It was nice to flirt with you again” to my baby I then said

“It was my darling, now let’s go get reacquainted in bed.”

I turned her way and had to say had we only met tonight,

I still would have fallen in love with her underneath this moonlight.

You see, no matter how hard it is I try to pretend

I am the moth and you will always be the flame in the end.

Just Saying

i do not like the feeling i get when i dont know where you are or who you're with or where you're going. Is it obsession, maybe.

My Poetry

I use to be self concious of when you read my poems because you felt that it was too much, too intense, repetetive, redundant. Then I questioned why I felt bad when you said that. I felt you did not understand. I was frustrated that I could not share the emotion I had with anyone else. But then again we all have different tastes.

Poetry to me is melancholy, it is sadness, it is overwhelming emotion,it is drama repeated beautifully in several ways driving at the same point if only to emphasis the passion or the magnitutde of an experience at a specific point in time. It is nothing else outside of that. Poetry is passion, it is an explosion of something of some sort. It is that thing that spaces me out in the day when I see it happen. It is the thing that moves me to tears when I try to validate if it happened or if it ever happened or if it could happen at all. There is a poem in everything that commands my attention and evokes feeling. Genuine feelings not one of those Hallmark channel smiles or tears.

I find poetry in the movement of a ballerina's fingers when she reacher out to the spotlight as she stands on her toes.And you can see some tragedy of being starved for about ten years just so she could fit into that delicate mold that lets her be a graceful feather blown by the wind held together with soft rubber bones that make her as fluid as water.

I find poetry in the act of looking at my wife's lips and the total captivity I am in when I look and she lift's my chin to look into my eyes to tell me to not be so obviously in love with her. It is funny and tenderly painful.

There is poetry in everything, and I like to romance the mundane because I find a certain beauty in them. As we all know true beauty is rarely ever explicit. There is a cetain amount of digging and imagination involved.

3 am

Awake at three

Got up feeling thirsty.

Had a drink, a bite and a smoke

To sleep again I go... I hope

I'm a fish out of water

I feel now that you are far

What I wouldn't give to be just where you are

In thoughts, in dreams, in wishes I now fly

I can hop on the next gush of wind blowing by.

I can get off the next stop and parachute down

With the gentle drops of rain drizzling softly to ground

Closing my eyes as I fall towards the sand

On the soft padding of your lips I hope I do land

If only it were that simple to be where you are

We'd never spend a day apart

You from me never far

Hate is Love's Anger (revised)

Friends:
"GIVE UP!" they say
"GIVE UP AND LET HER GO!"
"She hates you now even more so!"
She hates you. HATES you!
She shouts with no shame

Lover:
Then happy I should be for in her heart, a part, I still remain.
While there is hate then there is hope Love and hate ends of the same rope

Friends:
She despises your presence the longer you linger

Lover:
Yes but still I pursue for her hate is merely love's anger

Friends:
What then can stop this madness of yours ?

Lover:
Just one emotion that I hope she never implores
Indifference! love’s opposite, the vanishing of love's encore
Indifference for in there... there is love no more.

Friends:
You are the King of Fools and the Majesty of Naivete

Lover:
Better a fool true to oneself than a sage preaching hypocrisy
I am the wish you’ve given up on
the dream that drove you mad.
I am what all of you wanted and want still
But never you had or ever will have.

Friend:
A fool, a majestic fool who lives on lies
When your heart finally breaks don’t come to us with your cries

Lover:
My dear friends we’re all born with broken hearts.
We are born broken
And then day comes when we find love
and then we become whole again.

Freind:
Reality one day will open your eyes
And when it does you uderstand how that kind of love
we all once had slowly dies.

Lover:
Maybe but until then I have chosen
To love with all my hearet and give what I can

Junkie

When we first met
I was caught off-guard
You were instantly injected into my veins
Injected as a lethargic drug
You slowly coursed through me
To every possible root in my soul.
The utterances I’ve longed for, spoken on cue
Took shots ‘til dependency on the dose
The cure became the culpritToo far down to treatI surrendered to the addiction

And it was always like that
Always me and you
Always the two of us

They say better two than one
Two heads are better than one
Table for two
“Two please” at the movie counter
One tea and a coffee
I wanted it to stay that way
And planned a life for two

Then the wheels of life turned
And now everything is upside right up down
Now always one set of utensils
One ticket to the movies
One cup of coffee and… well….just one cup of coffee

But I am never alone
There is still two
There’s me
And then there’s always the presence of your absence that keeps me company
Always in discomfort from a craving that cannot be satiated
But nobody dies of that right?

Was reaching out for you as impossible as wishing on a starI close my eyes and with every breath and strength I find in me
Decide to fly with wings of words to you
Me on paper, stamped and sealed
But never delivered

Do Not

Do not kiss me but if you were to kiss me, 
Then do so in crisp articulateness, with suave maneuvers of clean cultured patterns, with artful taste and the exact statement of intent. Kiss me to let me know you just want the thrill of my lips and nothing more.




Do not touch me! But if you must, if you are indeed going to then TOUCH me… not shyly, lightly, half-there nor in whispers but completely, in screams, boldly and deeply.
TOUCH ME then after never let me go.

5 more minutues

“5 More Minutes”081308

I sit here helplessly waiting for 5 mins to pass.
The seconds slowly crawl by.
I struggle with the frustration of watching the five minute fuse burn.
I documented each moment and passing sensation in my head.

The sun started a new day by dethroning the weary moon.
The earth’s sun kissed face glowed in a shade of warm gold and amber.
You reached over to pull me closer to you.
My eyes opened with raindrops falling within.
I didn’t know when we would be like this again.
You seem like a returning tourist in my life
The sleeping day’s awakening came quickly.
The golden arms of the sun embraced me and stripped me of the dark blanket of night
I was cold and naked on your bed.
In consolation,
The sun beams kissed my eyes open as the refreshing morning light wind
Caressed the rich black strands of my hair
It softly coaxed me in whispers to rise from deep sleep
And in reply to the soft sigh of the morning I said
“Nay! Not Yet! I beg you leave me be, for still I am int eh perfect dream,
On the shores of paradise during the hours of twilight.”
Couldn’t the morning go away and come again on some other night?
A night when I await a visit and long to pull the sun into an earlier rising.
A night when I laze not in loving arms

The alarm goes off.
I reset it for the 6th time
5 more mins…

I will sit in that quiet corner and watch you enter from the door.
Our glances,two outstretched arms, will cross and hold hands
My eyes beckoning, will waft you to the seat next to me.

Let's watch the courting dance of coffee and cold weather
As a humming wind and rhythmic rain serenade the two
Coaxing them to embrace

I waive my finger to stir the air
And bring it to my lips
Taste the chemistry
Of music and emotions
Bitter sweet I think.

She cried.
Each trailing tear scratched my face

Some pursue the truth because for them that is salvation. The exercise then hence results to one remembring the innate knowedge that are residues from the past where the truth began. This resulting to emmancipation. The ''spirit'' inspires us to remember the humanity we have lost in translation. Or the humaness we have transformed into an amlgamated view of the value of man as only congruent to acquisition and what he can give based on what he has acquired.

Is it that through the various compliicated mechanisms we have developed that are founded on capitalism that we hve forgotten the truths we were born with?

We've tried opening midnight bottles
midnight bodyshots on counters and brothels
We've tired to do it slowly one button at time
Straining from the restraint from the beautiful sublime
Of just ripping and grinding and pushing and shoving
And moning and screaming and scratching all evening

But of all the times I think I must say
I also love the sleepy-cuddling on a rainy day
I love the she-cooks-I-clean the dishes-nights
I love the hifatty!-all good piggy!-bantering-fights
I have learned to accept the"that's-enough-O!-for-a-night-Kiss"
The occasional just-take-a-colder-shower-a-glass-of-water-and-go-to-bed-hiss

Though grumpy and whineny she's still my happy bunny
Gorgeously Stunning powered with an energizer battery

Lullabye

There is a slow unfolding drama in the way the first beams of dawn softly illuminate her face. I like waiting for that moment, i love the play of the shifting-shape-shadows on her body. I am captivated by the effect of the changing light on her skin,on her face,of the transformation of hues from moonlight silver to to dusk blue. Then the sun begins to show it's face and mixes all the colors up to a warmer pale-gold-morning. Her skin seems so much softer and warmer to touch under that light.

She sleeps. She sleeps so deeply as if waiting for true love's kiss. If only she could see through my eyes sometimes and understand the inexplicable experience I have when I look at her like this. Its so sad how she will never know how she is like this,sleeping like a baby.

Like an eye in the sky.I see us like this. I imagine it to be quite picturesque. Our bodies beside each other, like an image in the mirror, oppositely symmetrical. I alive at night, she alive in the morning. I dream with my eyes open, she dreams with her eyes closed. Together, equally resting with our limbs crossed like fingers hoping.