Sidestepping the moonlight
Stray bulletin boards
Bullet shells performing aerial
Acrobatics in us, they trust
A safe landing, in case
Our chests never need to bleed
Away the halftruth fueled arguments
The heat of war
In our bedroom
Tattered remnants of distant land
The colors of Bohemia
And what they meant to you
Meet me on the median
Of 475 on The Eve.
And the icy tornadoes
Tore apart two souls
Too cold to have sold their tomorrow
For a night of warmth..
Sidestepping the moonlight
She asked for me to meet her halfway.
I replied, I’ll see you soon.
Soon after, cerebral seconds began to race,
but in the real world, here they crept forward
and in that moment, it hit me.
Halfway is never truly halfway.
It means we spend half of the trip alone,
and the other half together..
and you insist on returning yourself so
you never met me halfway…
only 1/4th of the trip as the better half of one half
of all we have… has to work in the morning.
and I lay here, halfway dreaming that you never
had to make that journey solo. (Han’s lost stepdaughter)
I pray the jacket I gave you is warm enough.
Even though they don’t match the white gloves you wore.
It served its purpose.
For halfway is never halfway.
It is the illusion of balance tucked inside my spared feelings
I still feel the door closing behind you like crashing through a wall of walls
I won’t see the other side.
Just bounce back from the impact and stand
hoping that halfway is enough
to exert equal pressure
between two walls like Jericho Reborn
don’t cut your hair…
Distance is the devil.
It’s the attachment of a numbers to imaginary space
just to visualize how far apart we are.
I’d hate to think the universe was just for
foreshadowing the day
when you ask to meet me halfway
and I have to spend more time alone..
than I do with my lover…
The thing about words,
For them to be used effectively,
They have to be used correctly.
I hate to watch your dialect fall victim
This disposition of your diction is
my mission’s addiction.
The ridiculous and random.
The eurythmic trance-dom
That formulated the desolation of
This Love National Anthem
Because its not just me. Its engraved in song.
And the thing about you.
Is that vowel can stand alone. Ether The Poet
The day I found out
I felt the burn of a comet
Racing across galaxies
With the speed of a million heart beats
Enter a room
Sweat beading down my neck
I could sense you
Your presence caressed my cerebellum
I knew your lies would taste of tomorrow and the truth would kill me
But I don’t deserve you…
Taste and see.
open mouth and all I want to try..
and see how life works.
To the man with no arms,
touch is tongue and toe.
so take, taste and see,
grab hold of it.
but not with hand.
withhold. heart reserved..
front row seats to the theatre of your mind
for those worthy to watch the production.
But the broken locks on my past should have been a warning.
"Danger Ahead!" or some similar message
enscribed on my forehead.
aren’t meant to be excavated.
Yet you, ever the archaeologist
had to know how the rock of his family
was reduced to rubble by a love who rubbed him the wrong way
When god becomes a weapon,
Which side will you fight for?
The weapons of war and the tools of love are symmetrical
Slice through all of yesterday animosity
Without making a monster of me
Carving through my history
Seek truth, the missing link..