Election Day (Unfinished Draft)

One leap forward
surpassing generations of repression limitations





Four [shoves] back
into the closet with you
and your deviant desires.
We'll take your rights away
(after all that's what hate inspires)
isn't it amazing what the Lord
commands of his

When Night is Falling (Draft--Unfinished)

under a blanket of sparkling stars
we picnic
a carnival of desire fills us
the moonlight
eerie and grey cast silohuettes

Untitled

her smile
opens a door into the sky
my heart ascends
past mind-numbing heights
she does this to me
she makes my soul take flight
lighter than air
i am there
and everywhere in this moment
all it takes is one smile
one touch
it means so much
to me

Of all These, Hope

on the day she opened
her bridal gift
unleashing all the ills into the air
surrounding her
she let Hope stay inside;
she kept hope alive
for you and me.

that "thing with feathers"
a clipped bird
that could not fly free
trapped, for an eternity-
and men whined.
how could this be?

nothing is as bad as it seems
as long as we have our dreams
for comfort.
yes hope is a bird that longs to fly free
that dreams of an unending sky
that sees eternity.

i want ... i need

i want
to gaze into her eyes while
we are talking
and not freeze
in my inhibitions
which often tongue tie me.

to speak of my soul's desires
let my passions ignite
those smoldering fires
which melts away all resistance
in me.

i need
to lay entwined in her arms
so close
our hair mingles on the pillow
and we gaze out at the sunrise over the lake
its rose tips with rust highlights
our naked skin soft
with the leftover essence of last evening's love.

i want to write down ...

i want to write down
express profusely
how i feel about
her
but words like a mirage
are elusive
and refuse to be captured

love
it isn't enough somehow
it's too easy
a cliche
though that is certainly part of
how i'm feeling

i've been here before
i know the signs
i fall evermore
enraptured
and though it feels brand new
i know it isn't
and i haven't got anything
different to say.

i hate the way she looks ...

i hate the way she looks
at you
adores you up close
and personal.

it should be my hand
caressing through your
silken tresses
lovingly lingering to graze the
plump lobe of your ear
softly,
slight feather light touch
while my eyes take in
your glowing scarlet blush.

i should be making you
tremble from the inside
out
as my lips parade
the length of your smooth
neck
your hands clasping
grasping me tight
to you.

i should be the one
who hears your soft laugh,
sees your sparkling eyes dancing at me
playfully,
i should hold your heart
and your soul in my hands.

but i don't.

she does

she'd better not hurt you
or i will turn wild with rage
claws extended
i'll rip her limb from limb
into submission
i will make her pay.

Lies

how many times do
you have to
say the lie
until you believe it?

or is that something
that just comes naturally
to you?

how many mirrors break
from the intensity
of your feigned smile?

how many lies must you tell
to forget about life
for a while?

what will you do
when others refuse to listen?

will your cold hearted heart
stop beating
will your pulse slacken and slow
to a sickening still?

will you for once
look in the mirror and rescue
yourself with the truth?

admit that you're not perfect
and that's okay
accept all your flaws
as well as your merits?

face recrimination and beat recrimination down.

you can do it
i have faith in you

i turn away from the mirror
and laugh.

Scar

raised white lines
dried up pits on twigs
these are the soldiers left behind enemy lines
in pow camps
or the purple ache in my chest when I said
good bye

the upturned ground
fresh and dank with its new corpse to eat
stretch marks on my body
a map of how i've grown

that cavernous tiny hollow on my belly
my first mark of life
tied off and cut free
the most elemental liberty
for me to be me

numb
above or below
it doesn't matter anymore
out in plain view
or hidden beneath clothes
it has a consciousness of its own

Stranger

what are you doing?
i ask myself
each and every time.

who are you today?
how are you feeling?
i look into the mirror.

lately i've been doing things
thinking stuff
i don't recognize

i can't get her out of my mind

something has changed inside
i'm on the brink of discovery
hanging precariously over
the abyss

i won't be coming back
this time

The Spectator

i see her standing
up there on the stage
she is holding the world's gaze
in the palm of her hand.

i am in the back
of the room
holding court at the pool table
(i wish)

actually my friend is
ruling the table
and i am watching her.

i am a great spectator
and life is my sport
i watch the passes
the tight asses
of the girls as they pass
right through me.

i can't remember when
i turned invisible.