Poetry

If love were enough                                                                       7/11/15

If love were enough
tears would never be necessary
lonely nights and empty glasses
wouldn’t pile up like stars

If love were enough
this wave, that built so long
would carry us to higher ground
not break so harshly against rocky shores

If love were enough
no one, would bear witness
to their lover’s eyes
fixed upon another

If love were enough
timing would not be so crucial
reality not so insurmountable
happily ever after not just in fairy tales

If love were enough
we would be sitting
eye’s locked, talking
not sitting alone dreaming

If love were enough
but it isn’t
so lonely men tap keys
dreaming of love’s attention

 

No Straight lines                                              1/25/15

There are no straight lines
in my life
likely not in yours either
although
I might kill
for a simple squiggly line
instead of double-looped
horribly inverted knots

When I was younger
and far less stable
it was nights like these
that made me wonder
if it was all worth it
if maybe eating a bullet
was the right path after all

But I danced to that edge
found a coward
and danced away
the dance of course
looked much more like a stumble
fumbling in the dark
for a direction, a cause or a reason

That was all some time ago
since then,
I’ve done much work
I’ve learned to breathe
to write
to let fall off me
that which could bring down the walls
chew up the foundation
of this house I built

I’ve learned that all I control
is this house I’ve built called me
I am powerless
to control anyone else’s
thoughts
emotions

 

Reconstructed Heart                                                                                      6/21/15

How does it pump?
How does it work?
How, does it even fit
in the cavity of my chest?

Blown apart
stepped on
cut
ripped
torn
utterly obliterated
yet.

Here I stand
well, sitting actually
a reconstructed man
with a reconstructed
and still beating heart

So many times
so intricately
have I rebuilt this muscle
the parts, now
are like Lego bricks
with worn and broken connectors
such that reassembly
must include
the use of bubble gum and rubber bands

You know who you are
you vandals and frauds
you, who have been inconsiderate
with the handling of my heart

The only question that remains
does this reconstructed heart
this reassembled and ragtag organ
still possess the qualities
of the pure and original whole
forgiveness
compassion