Sudden Attack

The heart stops,
stomach drops,
and fear attacks
tearing and scraping the insides.
Stepping back, it’s not the right time.
It’s too delicate; my hands are tied.

I stall. I ruminate. I do all the things not to destroy this.
I dread that I will, gravely… to the point of not moving.
This is what it’s like when people become a ghost.
It’s too much to go forward.
So, I turn
in the opposite direction.

Let Me Bother You

I originally wrote this poem earlier this year (May 2020) and have revisited it often to get it just right. The original poem is shown below along with the updated version that I plan to publish in my next book. Let me know what you think in the comments below.

The original poem:

Walking down to the beach,
I’ll see you standing there,
bother you,
and tug on that beard.
I’ll knock you down,
roll around with you through the waves
and land on top.
You’ll have the sand between your hairs,
our bodies soaking wet,
while watching the sand melt away beneath us.
It’ll melt the distance between us,
it’ll melt the silence held within
while we watch the waves in unison.
Daydreaming for hours
because we know the waves will never stop.
And maybe, just maybe, we hope to be like those waves:
with ceaseless power,
flowing carelessly.

The updated version:

Along the shoreline, the two of us stand close
as the distance between us grows.

It comes across in hurling waves,
unlike the gentleness that greeted us.

Let me bother you,
and remind you I’m still here.

The stale heat of the summer air
weighs us down into a thick fog.

If only I could reach for a knife
to cut right through, separating us in two.

I watch you standing there,
but I’d rather tug on the red in your beard.

I’d give anything to roll through the waves
with me landing on top,

to lay with our bodies soaking wet,
watching the earth melt away beneath us.

The distance between us would dissolve,
and the silence held within, while
watching the waves in unison.

Our feet would become cemented in place
while daydreaming for hours, as we
know the waves will never end.

Just as we once aspired to be:
never-ending, flowing carelessly.

Out of The Dark Corners

Out of the dark corners,
images of another time
creep into the forefront
of my mind.

Images of you and I
mix with the scenery.
Our bodies entwine
in front of me.

Shining down or seeping in,
blurring the focus
of what actually broke us.

Layering conversations,
our wanting to be held close,
I jump into the frame and breathe us in.

After a leap of faith,
I feel the sting from a slap in the face.
I question if I ever had you by my side.

Unsure of what to do,
I figure there’s nothing left for us here
if all we have are streaming tears.

The Arrival


the approval has been granted,
the lift of the travel ban,
the ticket longed for is now in hand

three days scheduled
in glorious summer heat
with a lover’s heart in waiting

greeted at the airport
a loving embrace
and staring deep into each other’s face
before a long evening at an outdoor cafe

between smiles exchanged
we smooth out spaces
between places that haven’t
been touched in years

a lean in, a whisper
and a sudden rush off to the hotel
the night is a dream
flames, sparks flicker
and before we know it
the time has disappeared

daylight returns
breakfast ensues with a spread of delights
the agenda of walking around museums no longer appeals
all that’s needed to be seen
is right here

Dithering Heights [with audio]

*spoken word*

Perched high above where no one can see,
he scans the scenes below wondering
what all the raucous is about.

Escaping his aerie for a quick bite
or a neighborly ‘Hello’,
thousands march past him.

Chants, names echo
Cries call out through the streets.

He pauses,
‘It must have been someone they know.
Do I take my meal to go?
Do I join the march, grab a sign and bellow?
Or stand by to record all on video’?

He is but a common man in the crowd,
a voice that isn’t very loud.
One of many that hear the call
caught up in the commotion of it all.

He broods about, ‘Have our feathers settled for too long?’

Onlookers furrow their foreheads,
yet, it’s time for a brut decision.
The outsider, he can no longer be.
A spinal column so hollow
marks a squandered opportunity.

*Originally posted in June 2020*

dysphoria

the way you say
the things you don’t

carefully crafted
to disguise
parts of you in other realms,

it’s an alarming surprise
the way you reveal
your true self to me

leaves me empty
reduced to mysterious needs

i look away and say,
‘can’t we just talk poetry?’

The Gift and the Curse

what i thought i had lost,

a love that would never return,

now fulfills distant dreams-

an unanticipated ecstasy.

but while caught in the midst of it,

how is it that i still think of you?

the one who got so close but still so far away,

the one who buried me deep,

with a voice kept on repeat,

i can’t seem to make that voice,

or those words, go away.

how is it that ‘i keep coming back

to your shores’?

how is it that i keep hoping for more

when i know nothing

will ever come of this?

does the music ever provide the answers

or does it only tell us what we wish to hear?

this is not my own

rip out my insides,
pull out the intestines
from the gut punches bruised,
the heart that heaves
and beats rapidly for thee,
the mind that overthinks
and runs ceaselessly over everything,
pull it all out,
it does nothing for me,
it only runs for you.

my hands were made to hold only you
my arms were made to embrace you
my legs were made to wrap around you
my hips were made to rise and sink
with your every move
my lips were made to kiss only you
my eyes were made to only see you

i, and this body, was made
for you

Taco Dream Date

Originally published in The Daily Drunk: https://thedailydrunk.com/f/taco-dream-date

gooey melted cheese
over warm ground beef,
cool crispy lettuce
and fresh juicy tomatoes
wrapped up in
a flour tortilla
blankets the ingredients
of my hunger pained dreams

grab the deliciousness
and sit with me
my taco loving friend
while I grab the wine
and two solo cups
let’s toast to the days
where we enjoy lunch

conversing over our troubled families
these moments are our escape,
our lunch with a friend
or rather a taco dream date

One More Moondance, My Love

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN: https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-eight-09-06-2020

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us,
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. It
was our first song, my first song sung to me. And to this

day, the smile, the tone of your voice, the way you
captured me, still sends shivers right through me.
From the first taps of the piano to the trumpet blaring

three-quarters of the way through, it all sends me back
to you. I halt everything to remember your voice, your smile,
to be wrapped in a moment with you once again.