Poetry

The years have begun 
to pass with seasons 
watching winter slowly 
squeezed out by the sun belt 
inching north, to where 
frosts no longer sing 
the dreary melody whistled 
in the februrary chill.  And 
death in all of it´s tricky forms 
from; the pointless slaughter 
wasting, agonizing away 
in a broken system: The 
over dramatic shakesperian like 
fall from grace by those 
with fat ears who see the world 
short sighted; and do not understand 
the remnant who will not except 
table scraps like hungry, obedient dogs. 

Priya, 
the first kiss on the 9th of September 
is as real as the last kiss on the 16th of December 
as real as the next kiss I impatiently anticipate. 
I am not mad nor never was, but this weight 
on my heart becomes to much sometimes 
to concentrate on the next foot in front of me 
when the horizon looks so beautiful over our ocean. 
I understand more than you think, though I lose myself in 
the dribble rolling of my sleeve I am irrecoverably attached to, 
chained to this mountain like Prometheus above the first circle 
of Dante´s Inferno, for it is worth the fire burning inside you. 

Your hand clenches mine tighter and tighter 
not in front of me, not behind me, but next to me, 
an extension of my right arm.  I lose myself in you as I 
lose myself in the words of O´Hara, Ashbery, Kock and Shuyler, 
words that call me to my mecca(New York). 
I have always dreamed of you; on the playground 
seeing cruel children choose sides until only one is left; 
all the times I felt the salt sting open sores 
like car exhaust on bloody knees; in the rotten desert 
with a sword that hung over my hemet with piano wire when 
I promised to loosen my finger from the trigger; you always 
breathing on my shoulder.  You pulled me from 
the colf lake effect wind and 4 years later my eyes laid upon you 
for the first time in front of a castle I now consider ours. 

My Words, poetry from a recess 
neither google nor facebook can spoil 
the prose I express only to you 
because, 
to hurt 
to love 
to care 
to yell 
to share 
to fight 
to understand 
to have compassion 
to have symapthy 
to dare 
to dream 
to take the path left of two roads 
diverged in a wood 
is to win.