The Weight of The World is Love

The Genealogy of Style

Jean-Michel Basquiat. Photo  by Allen Ginsberg, December 1987

SONG

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human–
looks out of the heart
burning with purity–
for the burden of life
is love,

Jean-Michel Basquiat with an earth globe on his shoulder. Photo by Christopher Makos, May 29, 1984

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love–
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
–cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

–must give

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You Never Knew

you think you know a guy
years, months, weeks,
day in and day out
conversations exchanged
how things were left unsaid
how we chose, or chose not, to be

how we hide behind the way we speak
how we say, or don’t say,
the things we mean

you think you know a guy
and suddenly he’s a stranger
you never knew his thoughts,
never knew the things he’s done,
never knew the reasons why
things have come undone

you think you know a guy
now he’s an ass, a jerk,
in a mid-life crisis,
he doesn’t know how to deal
he’d rather eschew responsibility
and break away

you think you know a guy
he only showed what he wanted you to see
now he’s come clean,
no more pretending

you think you know a guy
but did you ever
really know him at all?

Thanks for reading. This goes out to anyone who has been blindsided by a loved one.

The Season of Changes

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Every Autumn fills
with browns and reds,
yellows and oranges;

Sweeping leaves
and a steady wind
blowing through trees.

Halloween decorations,
candy corn, and costume trials
as little ones prepare

for changes in the air.
Days lead up to celebrating
another trip around the sun,

and yet this season is another reminder
of all those years ago
when we lost you.

Years collect dust rings
in the corners of my mind, so many
things that could have been shared.

The warmth of your embrace,
the gentleness of your hands,
all we lost when cancer captured you.

No longer a smile beaming,
distant eyes,
a dream that no longer bled truth.

Doctors predicted six months,
then three,
it turned to mere weeks.

Sam was no more than a week old
when she greeted you. Pictures snapped
lost but still haunt.

We didn’t need them to prove
an ending met a beginning.
It was part of our story to carry on.

Back Where We Started [with audio]

*spoken word*

Driven too far,
gone too fast,
said too many things
to make it last.
Now you’ve gone away
and we can’t go back,
back to where this love
once started.

Now I drive too long
to make sense of it all.
Drive too hard
to run away from it all.
But I can’t go back,
back to where this love
once started.

The lights don’t shine bright for me.
No, I can’t go back to where
we used to be.
Sure, it’s easy to say
we can make it different
but I think it’s better this way.

[2017]

Small Promises

Out there beyond the hill
Lights twinkle in time with distant voices
Preparing for the new year
Making small promises of things to come
Promising small victories of things to overcome

What will they remember
When they look back at the year
The fickle promises collapsing around them
Or achievements made
Or constant redirections to get through another day






I’m Yours, Completely [with audio]

*spoken word*

I’m in, all in
I’m kicking and screaming as loud as can be
I’m yours,
Completely yours

From the tops of the mountains
To the valleys below
I’m shouting everywhere I go
I’m yours,
Completely yours

I’d move everything I see
If it blocked you from me
I’m yours,
Completely yours

As long as you’re near
There is nothing we should fear
I’m yours,
Completely yours

From the moment we first kissed
My heart immediately knew it
I’m yours,
Completely yours

This poem is available in Coffee Shop Sessions II. Click here to purchase on Amazon: Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One.

My Photos

Over the years while out and about, there seems to be a need to capture what’s in front of me before the moment and the lighting, the lines, and the beauty escapes the scene. I’ve noticed that my photography includes florals, landscapes, still life, and architecture. If there’s a person in the frame, I wait patiently until the frame is clean before I proceed. Of course, I take pictures of family or friends, but these are the ones that I claim to be the best of the best, and yet all taken from my phone. Click a thumbnail below to view the full photo.

Tears of a Poet

When I think of Carlos,
a beautiful soul of a man,
emotional, heartfelt poetry bleeds through
Tears creep on the brink of every reading
His hand held over his heart to keep it in
He makes a mark wherever he goes
The rhythm of his words flow
And it leaves you speechless
All you can mouth is ‘wow…’

Pondering over poems to capture what I believe in
A work of art always in progress
Instead of writing, I digress
I want the poems to come to me
It should be so easy
Poems used to flow without trying
Have I run out of reasons for writing?

‘Dreams are boats’ one poet says
It leaves me wondering,
Have her dreams already sailed on?
Are they docked and staying afloat?
Has she a ticket to the party boat of dreams?
Or have her dreams met the fate of the Titanic?

Whichever type it is, big or small,
and the condition it may be,
It got me thinking
And that’s what beautiful imagery does in poetry
It leaves you wondering, wanting to dig deeper
If there’s no wonder, no mystery, why bother in the attempts of poetry?

unease

it’s been three days
with clear blue skies

every morning
i stand in disbelief;

there’s nothing to obstruct the view
nothing to prevent the light from coming through

so why do i feel at unease?
because even now, the skies are just a tease