Honey song (inspired by PS)

It all starts with a smile
and a spark, an invitation
of the heart
Two glasses of wine
make for a fine time
and the conversation
flows like honey flows
like love--a little sticky
but a lot of sweetness
so be cautious to its crime
music mingles in the mix
and it's up with birds
you said it was hard write a song
so I thought I'd prove you wrong
I've the memories of an amnesiac cured
who's fine pen might guide his word
and through the back door
of music and the meanings
it does intend
we stumble on the fears
we should not defend
and touch, we break its barrier
the Major Minus is the temptation
I long to carry her
into honey relation

Love is like honey
so sweet, but sticky
you have to be careful
about having some
because if you don't both continue
to share its sweetness
you'll find yourself
in a sticky mess

Lightfly

We are distant
to one and the sun
we run circles
to the past
and what we've done
A little discombobulated
by the lines drawn in the sand
and the hands left in the pocket
for what you don't understand
We are one
flight and wings, the wind
brings
we are weight in the vacuum gravity
I'm as light as I want to be
and the isotope of
simplicity
I am burden
magic disappearing act
happily
You left the office light on
until I realized you never really came home
wrapped up in your polygon
right and wrong
heaven's here
...and then it's gone

Serious nonsense

I haven't fallen in love
in quite some time
Just piece together
some affection and companionship
every now and again
But I watch the way
you move and the secret joy
you keep
and the laughter that you roll out
I sense the confidence with which
you engage the world
It triggers a sense of admiration
on my part, it triggers a chord
in my heart
I watch your determination,
purpose, intention, and earnestness
It makes me wish
to peel the thin layer of superficiality
that I've so longed to shed
I watch your no-nonsense and
yet catch your growing
mischief.
I like the way
you play
I choose only to be in
your space for the simple joy
it brings
And I'm curious about your
vulnerabilities... for your front
is so stalwart, but I know
we all carry our doubts
and it's only that I want to rest you assure
and confirm your bravery

I tear off my clothes and don
the potato sack
I will dance of sadness
mixed with tears of looking
back
I will dance with joy
for the little boy
that can't have it back
I will have to answer
on the final day
I will make amends at the gate
the love we share will have
to be reconciled to the hate
we make

one and alone

I see my ghost in the reflection
I'm searching for some
sort of protection
but the harm has been done
the day has been won
and she will come, one
one and alone
to take her seat on the throne
It may be a grey day outside
and the sun may have good
reason to hide
while I figure out whether it's
really a matter, or if it's just
my pride

Mother's gone
what have I done
to play the part
of the aching heart
She gives every drop
to that boy lost in his pop
to that girl
who loved the world
"it's no secret"
she held on to everything
she had--it's no wonder
she wasn't all too glad
to go out that way.

In other places

I don't know why I

couldn't feel in the moment

But I feel it now

Wrapped up in a blanket of

frozen suspension

Closed me off from others,

from myself, and from the one

that I love.

But despite my confused

and absent state of mind,

I pray that my physical presence

could speak to

the meaning of things--

the respect, the honor,

the commitment, the dedication,

the service, the gratitude, the history,

the forgiveness, the present spirit,

the joy, and the everyday

of my love for you.

I hope you heard it in my

scared shitless silence

I hope you hear it now

in my tear drenched pillow

Unnamed

I'm an optimist

because I can feel that

love is between us.

Because it's euphoric,

and because it hurts.

Two worlds

Paradise is the sound of your voice

Driving Carolina

Feeding him or he'd forget

Reaching higher for each other

You couldn't have found a better lover

There for me when I'm good,

when sick

There's something about how

you do that trick

When you take that stage

and the chorus of your voice

in a sultry rage

that connects two worlds

a pretty unique story of a boy and a girl

Build on the dream, build

on the reality

Just another jet plane

for a talk, a reunion

no two days are ever the same

Highs and lows

heaven knows

Reaching higher for each other

you couldn't have found a better lover

When our hearts are joint

it makes an exclamation point

Create, make

We have an innate spirit to create

those things we possess should serve as tools

of addition and expression

we do not let them own us, in ownership

we own them to be makers of life, art, new thought, feeling

all of those things that are wonderful about our humanity.

The accessories we don reflect our style

and the mood of our spirit

as it is in the spectrum

of time and within the incremental moment

What do you create?

A story, a song,

a sense of something good

a new experience to cherish,

a memory to relish,

a question,

a feeling of wellness and hope.

Make love,

make wholeness,

make repair,

make connection,

make meaning and self definition.

Make communication and translations.

Make joy.

Make sure...

you give thanks for all you've been granted and gifted to make.

(Inspired by) Berlin: Die Sinfonie der Großstadt

Machination
We build
Hands of steel
Feet of stone
We are in it together
We are all alone
Make our devices
Devise our Maker
The cities we raise up from dust and muck
The order we bring to it all
Our cities, they rise and they fall
Of shiny lights
Of cobble and sand and brick
Concretenation to do the trick

Happy 34 Billion Kilometers

I won the lottery. 37 years ago.

And each year since, its paid significant dividends.

I've done some serious mileage.

34,513,600,000 kilometers plus or minus a few.

And those are just the ones surfing this galaxy around our sun.

I've learned a thing or two. One of them being that it's just a thing or two of an endless count of possibilities.

I have dared. I have been chicken shit.

I've made lists of more things to do than I can reasonably accomplish. But I still like writing them down.

I have met you because in the scope of things, I don't think that you and me are very much unalike.

And I have yet actually to meet me because every day there's a new possible me, and a lifetime simply isn't enough time.

I may not always have direction, but I hope I always have been true to purpose.

I've failed (a lot). But I consider myself successful where I recognize my failure.

I am a practicing human being practicing being human. And that's been fun.

My time shall come to pass in this life.

My sense of peace with that shall be a measure that my time has passed well.

Message on the Water

Shiny surface like oil
cold and recoil
small waves, the pulse of
blood
swarms over me in the
flood

When the lights dance on
the water like little
Morse code

Everything hanging loosely
barely making sense
strung together by good intention,
but too much pretense

A Part of the Wholly Cool

I do,
I need to break out
from this sleep, from my skin
and float in an ethereal space
where freedom abounds and
the corruption has no place

I want to be where the cool kids are at,
the boys and girls
and everyone in between
that shine, and remind me of
what's at heart and what was
from the start.
Please allow me a taste, a morsel, a part.

On My Way

I'm nowhere near where
I ought to be
but I'm surely on my way
everyday
step one, step two
step out, step through
the maze
the daze
the grays in the sky
the new
the you
the blue in her eyes
I'm on.
The Way.

Ignorance of Love

At the end of days
will we ask ourselves if we really
ever loved one another?
Cast in doubt, the achievement
of our greatest cause. We didn't
take the time to consider if our
actions were reflections of Love.
I wouldn't own up to my mistakes;
I deliberately diminished my learning.
Stood proudly on my heap of nothing
pretending the universe spun around me
while others screamed until voices broke,
gone unheard, not acknowledged, disregarded
never afforded a sense of being or existence.
My head is laden heavy and my
heart swollen for the blatant
disregard. It debases the Love
that may be humanity's one redeeming
quality.

But the contest remains, as it's
done before and may forever remain.
I cannot be discouraged.
For it is by this very strife, that
my courage is needed.
Please give me strength in my
bone to stand, and air in my
lungs to speak, and heart in my
soul to Love the enemy--the
ignorance of Love.

true

there's a lot going on

tell me what we're holding on to

tell me it's wrong...

but have they spent some time

thinking about it?

what if they are all wrong?

what if no one's that strong?

and it's quite alright to be

yourself--

ok to live life

free, happy

what if love is the greatest thing

but without so many rules?

who defined the rules?

you say it's God, but tell me the truth

Half As Much

Half as much
what it is, what we think it is
Living on assumptions
Hoping for redemptions
Trying to reconcile
what we think we know
with all we simply don't.

Someone should have told me long before
to check my fear and hope at the door
the weight of Love only One bore
and other feelings we should ignore

Half way house
on my way there,
still far from destination.
Traveling my own routes
Treading my own two boots
Try to reconcile
where we think we'll go
with all our baggage in tow

The Questions We Ask

The questions we come up with
asked time and time again
redefined by respondent,
shaped by experience,
slanted by perspective,
accepted, rejected, refused--she pleas the fifth.
Restated, pondered, addressed with the utmost care.

We ask them, like a knock on the door
of enlightment and truth.
And while answers may change, they
can provide a snapshot of someone's
understanding and thought.

And we ask them of each other
as an expression of the values
we place on what that person thinks,
and ultimately, means to us.

Merci, Paris

Here, a little story of romantic adventure

I've fallen into heart space

the look of her lovely face

Paris, you glow

winking your flirtation

smiling your style.

In your garden I breathed air of joyeux

in your alleys I felt l'esprit du vieille ville

You're black and white with cherry lipstick

You're secret whispers in lover's ears

You are that beauty who knows she's being watched,

adored, desired

who never turns her head.

I sit up on the third floor looking out and down

the sea of arrondissements, slow moving pedestrians,

and chaotic roundabouts.

The spirit of a non-defeatest, adamant to her passions,

sultry in her affairs,

living for freedom of soul and human expression.

I want her--to be part of her

to have her blanket me in her love and liberty.

My Bed Bug Afternoon

Pile it on

loads of laundry

purging of infest furniture

itching of swollen little bites

Season is ending, season is starting

housewarming, homecoming

urban hiking, beach combing

Affirmations are unnecessary

Save your little pills for those in need

Though I miss my City and my Lebanon

I am grateful for my home sweet home

Follow me into the adventure of all the things

that I might

And don't worry if the bed bugs bite