fears, they linger

i’m not sure what it is but it grasps me from inside
it tears at my catacombs and leaves me blind.
i ache of emotions that i fathom from afar
and struggle as i might the distance only grows.
“ time heals everything,” i was told long ago
and so now also i still believe.
but sometimes i get stuck and so do the
minutes and the hours that are in front of me.

when will this end, when will all this end…
when will i be in control of myself?
when will this end, when will all this end…
when will i make the choices i need to make?

i understand things on an intellectual level
but there are reasons and causes that are other,
and i feel so afraid when i don’t understand:
it’s like pulling the ground right from under me.
i sip on chamomile and i think to myself
that the ground i walk is fragile anyway:it’s
like walking a tightrope but not being able to see
that you yourself are the one who’s holding it up ;
at any moment, upon your command, the rope
will loosen and you would tumble to the depths…

fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like grease marks on your newest jeans.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like dead leaves on a windless street.

and, these fears and pressures you reel for
yourself are but a few long days and lonely
nights that have already passed you by anyway. yes!
thus a void is created that entraps all my fears,
and there i lay dumbfounded, numb
and ill with a restless fatigue.

fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like garbage in a subway car.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like mildew in a basement flat.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like droppings on your windshield.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like snowflakes on your tv screen.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like sulfur in your ashtray.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like sex stains on your mattress.
fears are as real as you make them out to be:
they linger like bad breath. ~~~

you can tell

you can tell a man by the way he walks, the treads of his shoes or the soles of his worn-out feet. the late darkness of the hour grips the city as he walks his usual route home. it rains lightly and he steps through muddy puddles onto the pavement of lombard st. the death of night surrounds him. damp. philadelphia is caught in a rare quietude, and his overcoat is filled with a weight of momentary pride. it is residue of the day’s treasures, tucked into the lining of the leather, and whining softly. tomorrow he won’t weigh so much…or so he promises. the nervous silence is stunted with echoes of scorn: sarcastically gratuitous, respectful. ~~~

w i n d

yes, yes…
there was a house on the hill
and it had 1 small wall missing
inside the man always lay still except
when
the
w
i
n
d
came blowing in. ~~~

except this time

people with ideas, morals and values, well thought, through and through, and even perhaps tested every now and then. they stand for their convictions and take stands for their beliefs, refined and objective, insatiably scrutinized, examined and reexamined, then examined again for further assurance, absolvement. now they believe that they really believe, comprehend, and function with exemplary style. oh, the finesse with which they preach their sermon, the verses sounding and echoing in the thin crust ebbed in the marrow of their bone.
and, then, there is conflict. a struggle. doubt arises from the bleak surface of uncertainty. an irrevocable doom. fermented turmoil. reorder is in order. the undeniable plausibility of the invisible truth has shown its eternal face. renunciation is the slight difference between bliss and despair, heaven and earth - real and imagined. an inversion to the invocation. and the storm is now in full swing. crash!
these people…they live in a house, and on the porch, adjacent to the front door, is a sign that reads ‘welcome, anytime,’ and when one gladly pulls on the screen door, there is another sign that reads ‘except this time.’i wonder if i belong to their society. sure, but i don’t even live in a house. and if i did i wouldn’t have any signs. and if i did i would not hang them up. and if i did i would not post them on the porch. i would put them high above the roof, hovering over the tiles, dangling from the clouds just below the sky. ~~~

if you loved me, really

There's no denying
my head's in a whirl
you got me spinning round and round
Like to think it's different
that you miss me, and you know
that every moment you keep away
adds another brick to the wall between us
If you loved me, really
You couldn't help but have to see me—now
Well, I'd be lying
if I said it didn't hurt
I mean it's even troublesome to try to sleep
Wish it was different
that you knew for certain you wanted 'us'
and that the time you've taken to be apart
is not equal to losing a chunk of my heart, forever
If you loved me, really
You couldn't ever live without me—so
You know that it's the
little kid in me that's crying
weeping cause it's a little uncomfortable
Wish I didn't feel stuck
while you're taking your time making up your mind
in your air-conditioned Upper East Side apartment
knowing I'm stuck in Queens with the heat and the cat and noise in my head
If you loved me, really
You wouldn't cause this pain in my life
I'm being facetious, of course
When I put this blame on you (completely)
After all it was I who recommended
You take your time while you're sorting out
Your life and said that I'd be here
With open arms & a smile and a warm embrace, ready, waiting
If you loved me, really
You could hardly wait to kiss me so
I guess my expectations proved me wrong
They popped out of nowhere (those menacing things!) to remind me
Yes, to prove to me that I had them,
not necessarily denied but hidden, slightly suppressed,
they shouted in unison that I was still utterly human,
that this time my excuse was love
If you loved me, really
Perhaps you would do exactly what you're doing. ~~~

you were

You are worth so many words
But none would be enough to describe you
You are in most of my thoughts
You were the one who brought me so much joy
Through your companionship
I was able to dream of building a bright future
What have I done
To make you turn on us and run
You were the one who opened my eyes
Yes, I was already close to falling asleep
You awakened in me desires
I long ago traded in for a shallow ease
Disjointed, I walked through life
Oblivious to the happiness available to me, the spirit deep inside me
What did I say
To make you turn and walk away
You were so genuine, beautifully courageous
You taught me to embrace opportunities given me
Perhaps it was your own honesty
That drew you away from me
Cause it didn't make it easy to sit still
When your mind is occupied your body resists
And your heart for a moment knows not how to beat
So you give in to what you do not really wish
How did I act
That made you lose this fact
I wear my heart on my sleeve
That's the way I've always lived
And it was difficult for you to see
I wanted to give and share and be
All that I could with you, with us, with me
Guess it was my strong love
That scared you off
Or maybe you simply never were in love with me.
Too bad for both of us: the potential was great. ~~~

limbs

Liquid frames
hosting pictures of wishes
hang suspended in a space sometimes
understood to be desire,
remnants of extreme pleasure and joy,
eager to burst not quite so defiantly:
these are my limbs
for now, only. ~~~

words

words are harmony
sometimes dischord
rising, wavering,
in tune, yet out of key,
rushing, slightly audible
sometimes sincere
other times, invincible
words could kill
a feeling
like the one i'm afraid to have
but cannot live without. ~~~

if ever you should leave

if ever you should leave
take my eyes with you:
the tears will drown me
and spill through the open window
gliding over the neighbors'
and onto the crowded city floor, down into hollow gutters;
it will then swell upward
over towering buildings toward the sky
until the fire of the sun is contained
in this, an ocean of sorrow
that measures in memories
a lifetime.
or a moment. ~~~

tonic lips

Soft sound blanket of Mingus jazz
Newport tongue, Victoria's Secret thong
Evening gown, and not an unfamiliar dawn
Sea-saw sound of a clear syne wave alarm
Half wholes, Infant souls
Late night embrace
Mellow Gold bathroom tiles,
Tub slightly slanted on strong and stirdy brass legs
Inviting bubble bath syndrome
The clock's languid tick tock,
menacing steam pondering the surface of a wine glass
Limber and frail bare bones, lustfully eradicated
Love of Twilight's sensual cadence, timid poker faces
Delicious full vodka tonic lips
Fate's enrapturing design,
draped in melancholy, hosting limbs of lovely skin,
protruding, extending confidently beneath
a tight and blackened mini skirt
kindly hiding yesterday's precipitated insecurities. ~~~

a veil blocking the essential

seeing clearly all the time. no. no! who wants that. who needs that?
no, that certainly does no achieve anything worthwhile.
it’s like working all the time; fucking all the time; being happy, anxious, good… all the time. no!
it is neither humanly possible, nor is it desired.
relax. let go, just let be, and observe - and all without being fully involved in it, sucked up and into the flow and depth.
no, to see things clearly, sharply focused, is like staring into the brightness of the sun - all the time:afterward, do not expect to see your field of vision uninterrupted by a hazy yellow glow, like a veil blocking the essential. ~~~