has it really been thirteen years
since we dreamed of the city surrounded by cornfields

19 was a different lens
hot august evenings staring at the stars
on the rockslide in the quarry by your father's house
where we drifted deeper into love and ardor

in the heat of an endless summer,
the unflinching drift towards new romance and dreams of
marriages and sacred vows and well,
where did it all lead us, and where are we now?

in interceding years came new flames and hurricanes
and always those roads turned back towards you, didn't they
i sat for you for your paintings and i fell more and more
in love with someone whose heart could never let me stay

now, what have we come to, and what have we learned?

32 a new lens with clearer eyes and
i surmise now that i knew not where that road would go
i kept the promise that i'd made, just in a different way
past the barns and the long highways i'd dreamed of with you

glacial, time continues on
and memories are fleeting but fond

has it really been thirteen years
since i knew the joy of you

Oh Dionysus.
How I miss you,
but your blood....gives me anxiety.
It makes people hate me, I can't stand to be
alone.

I can't say I don't miss dancing with you
But it's not much of a party with just the two of us.
No one else is willing to dance for long.

There was a time where you were,
my only friend
and you would smile and take me in your arms while
I sobbed and enjoyed the haze of your being.
I in turn, worshipped you. Even if research, candles and hymns, libations of your own blood and my perfume could hardly be enough.

It's all I have, my lord.

While I miss the roiling, twisting madness of your magnificence
I shouldn't be there.
I want to be, desperately
but I pick up a bottle and look at myself in disgust and shame.
It's not you, it's me.
This is far from a disillusionment of gods.
I will still dance, my lord, just perhaps not as closely as before.

I am white clouds
Immobile
Blue sky drifting
Apart from me cicadas buzz loudly
Bare back on hot cedar planks
Mindfulness in bloom
Ideas like dandelion seeds
Arise before floating beyond the roof line
I am time—
The lawnmover engine turns,
reality returns.

Poised to succeed
In all of your dreams
You have the support
And the means
Endured a painful trek
Metamorphosed from a disdainful wreck
But you’d rather be something else
Than a large paycheck
All the agonies
Pursued through wistful blasphemies
Have led to naught
But a sorrowful eucatastrophe
Because you have bills due
Things to live up to
It’s wishful thinking
Wanting to paint the skies blue.

cheers to all those blasted nights
when in reflected neon lights
your eyes so sadly glow
with lust
                for a future you will never know

Your words rival the rain that washes the dust of yesterday off the streets,
They pull flocks of birds towards your speech,
And like maps of the largest cities
I dwell on them for days hoping to uncover every corner,
Even the petals of blooming flowers
Fly away prematurely to follow the words that rest on your tongue,
Because when you speak you pierce the atmosphere
With paper planes folded by your wisdom.
Your words are pungent, like mosaics of foreign colour,
They rest upon the palette of a dreamy painter,
Wistful in colour, even when you haven’t spoken at all.

that dark black coffee
bitter on my tongue
it twists my mouth up
like you used too

with subtle flavors
sharp hazelnut undertones
like your soft curls
use to smell in the morning

I wake up to one cup
or maybe three or four
to fill up space that you left
now in my empty quiet bed

Hello future friend how are you?
I'm sorry our plans to meet up fell through
but I hope you've been taking care of yourself.

How is your family, how are your friends?
I know... asking these questions won't make amends
for my absence in your life recently.

And so I want to dedicate this poem to you
you who makes me reminisce
you whose company brought me bliss
you whose laugh, whose smile I dearly miss
you, my dear friend, who I shamefully dismissed.

I want you to know that you're stronger than you think
and even if you're down, depressed, and your heart would sink
you've made it this far in life and I am so proud of you.
Proud of your small daily victories- yes I noticed how you pull through
all the dark times, all the blurry lines, all the tough and rough
you are beautiful. You are loved. You are enough.

I know it may not seem like I care since it's been a while...
but for what it's worth, I hope I could make you smile