April 29, 2015

Dance to the clocks, the work, the light
The airplane travels and the black car rides
The hurry and scamper through the fields
Stalks of people carry blank paper in sheaves.
Lost in the dark, together we spin
Lights of Laguardia or is it starlight that glint
All blend together in cauldron of haste
The sun has torched another flaccid day.
Burn and burn, as the hours turn
Hotter the cauldron, froths and churns
With the medly of promises, proposals and lies
The dreams we saw when we were five
Wait now! Cool the bellows! Put out the flame!
The liquid has overflowed, we must start again
The burn, the singe, the scars on our hands
Let them stand as reminders of this time.



April 26, 2015

No longer is the world sterile and cold
With the harsh whiplash of words [or was it the wind] 

That caused you to moan when warmth left your heart. 

Forlorn denzien, solitary resident 

The streets were shards and the night lamp mere hollow mocking 

Of a dream lost, and where you wondered

Like a lost student, eyes straying from books, towards the window

In hope of seeing the return, of arrival, of joy. 

And then suddenly,

You wake,

You feel the warmth from the touch of a finger on your breast

And your heart bustles like the street

And in the haze of waking 

You see a face over yours

With jewels dripping from ears

And feel the kiss awaken you again. 

Spring in New York

April 19, 2015

Don’t ever leave.
Always find that one other day,
Cause I want to be
Lost in your breath,
Lost in your eyes of fierce life
That awakens the spirit
In hibernating and the dead.
I want to lie on my side
And watch you stir trouble
With your wicked laugh,
As you kiss an old man,
Make him shiver before his wife
Or see you dance down the path
Chasing shadows away from the past;
And when you tire,
Have you sit beside me,
Pluck blossoms delicately,
Rain them down upon my eyes,
Encircle me with your tendrils,
Daub me with the warmth of your kiss,
Entice me with the promise
Of an eternity with you by my side.



Love 2.0

April 18, 2015


April 16, 2015

New York Haiku

April 6, 2015

Clear morning skies 

Walking up by the High Line

Spring is here