Who I am is who I want to be

an artist and a writer,

a kid at heart even when I’m sixty

and for the right reaons, both a lover and a fighter

I am a coffee drinker at night

and a soccer player during the day

I love kisses under the moonlight

and to my lord and savior, I pray

I love late night drives,

to nowhere or everywhere

and daydreaming of a fantasy life

but I have the most adoring family that no other can compare

I make others laugh, with my jokes or my stupidity?

Which one is it? Whichever is fine

In my daily life I find complete serendipity

I hope to make other’s lives so much more divine

Because this is who I am and who I want to be

Whatever you do in the world,

Will be insignificant.

You can sugar coat it if you want,

Say that its not true.

But one day there will be no one left,

To remember me or you.

You can be a famous singer,

Like Beyonce of Jay-Z,

Or a nobel prize winner,

Like Albert or Humphrey.

It all doesn't matter.

Ashes are just ash.

Will the world end in ice?

Or in a red hot flash?

The point of this poem,

Is not to make you sad,

But to tell you to enjoy your time,

And stop being so mad.

Stop worrying about little things,

Release all that stress and dread.

Don't worry about that broken glass

Or your messy unmade bed.

Enjoy life.

Smile at the sky.

Laugh when something is funny,

And enjoy the wild ride.

She dipped her brush

into blood of her angst

and painted on canvas

a visual diary of lies.

Bare naked emotions

stripped down

to goosebumps,

breathed through earth

into my gaping mouth.

Empty walls cried out

with no voices,

days lined up

endlessly

to take their turn

in seamless infinity

of no color.

Pores of her skin

opened doors

to minute specks

of ice and dust,

an uplifting loneliness,

an illusion of purity

lost in obscurity.

Heaviness of

fraught mind

ravenous for

multi-color prisms,

awakening blue silence

of unsettled stones,

riding currents of

nightly tides.

I turn away

with backward glance,

enthralled yet repelled,

searching for

hidden simplicity

encasing

the perfect world -

the sunflower touch

imprinting its hands

on our tomorrow

as summer stands still.

Faces of light dwell in

Small eddies

Pushing unsuspecting soles

Into darkness

Roofs lapping up water

as the wind plays a violent

vibrato to the

Distant pounding

of upraised stones

Technology

Data

Tracking

Privacy, an illusion to keep secrets,

But not yours.

All I want for Christmas

is more strokes of your breath

against my face as you touch

my life and leave indented mark.

I need to unclench my fists

and hold you close – a broken

winged bird but intact heart.

Let me barricade the whispers

of dark night when your race

is ended as I shed damp tears

of yesterday wanting you

to beat the odds and climb

the highest mountain,

borrowing the shades of life,

straightening limp blades of grass.

When the hidden shadows sigh

a soft release, let me murmur

reluctant acceptance of loss

as soul filters into the night

streaming away from me as

you remain forever in my essence

Give me the strength to endure

the somber silence and allow you

to breathe deeply of the sea,

to be free and fill your lungs,

memories diving beneath surface

but floating above and close to me.

All I really want is to share

another Christmas with you.

Numb in clouds of anonymity,

rain washes lives existing on fringes

of sunglassed voyeurs hiding identity,

powerless to avoid hazed lives,

unfurled charms reinventing life,

as they taste salt of weathered rocks.

Shooting random arrows aimlessly,

confessing but remaining hidden,

as life’s absurdities are exposed.

Invisible guest at your table

subjects all to surveillance

from small scribbles of truth,

lingering longingly before

wandering willfully at slow pace

past shuttered blinds

and blank canvases splattered

by winds of misfortune.

Paper dragons in choppy seas

vanish in mazed anonymity of

         CYBERSPACE.

Listen to your peace in stillness,

own the sound that beats inside,

kick off the dust of yesterday,

wing like an eagle to tomorrow.

Ladle out love in big scoops,

accept the winds of change

and ride them into the horizon.

Eavesdrop on heartfelt songs

of innocence reverberating,

uplift your questioning eyes

and seek your own advice

because others have not trod

your path scattered with

withered flowers and scars

of darkened corridors.

Stir laughter into your tears,

flow forth in lively colors,

speak your truths loudly.

Play with fire and flesh,

develop strength of spirit,

run swiftly into the future.

Remember who you were,

recognize who you are

and discover who you will be –

but above all, be yourself,

comfortable in your own skin.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Please.

I beg you.

Don't let me go.

We drove

Hot air balled up

in the space

between us

We drove

Road on the palm of the ocean

Salty breeze carrying

Mermaids' tears 

slipped into the

air freshener

We drove

My scarf pressed up 

against the glass

thrum

ming

shift   ing

latching 

the door

carefully

"I can't do this"

He turned to me