Demeter

My soul rises today for the first time.
You return at last to me; advent of Spring.
My heart has grieved these 6 days
longing for your smile, your eyes,
your impossible questions
to wake me from my dead walking sleep.
Child, how could any God ask us to
let go of those we love, even for our own sakes,
but he does.
I let you go to stand at the fire pit,
your own heart brimming full of confusion.
I do not have the keys to his kingdom
so I must wait for him to return you to me.
It is as if Spring will never come for me
while you are gone sweet love.
Yet I feel that our God has shown me
a small smattering of truth;
a shoe on an uncomfortable other foot.
We hear of Demeter grieving but never
know how Hades grieves for the girl
when Spring sends her at last to
waken slumbering winter into violent
color forgotten sorrows in love.
No, I know today his grief must match
my very own as his joy is mine on
your return dear little one.
And as you grow, will your grief
at being never whole be all of our undoing?

Graceless and Faltering

These dreams that find you
Are echoes of my heart
But we are not what we were,
Romeo beneath my window.
Once your words brought me
Bright flaming from that window
The fire has burned too consuming.
My flesh a black ash of mourning
For what can never be again.
You are always just out or reach
Just beyond my love
Slightly off center of my crazy heart.
I long for you unbearable ache
like a child
Holding two broken pieces of my heart
Palms up to God begging him to fix them.
Scars no one can see, a road map
Of a journey that found my quest
Sleeping or not sleeping beside another
With me in his dreams and I
In another's uncomfortable bed.
What hope is there for poor sinners
For passion or love
But that of fate or destiny
To send us where we should be
And Grace to accept that fate.
I was never known for Grace.

Making Love To The Disabled

You smile beautifully on a blue sky Friday
from a book cover that many will read.
You are happy, at least in theory.
I should veil these lines because that is what
poets are known for; the subtle rife invocation
whispering vowels and consonants to dance the soul
precipice of self in which we too often swim.

Yes, your eyes, love, are as novel as these
raspy pages rough like your skin once felt
beneath my palms seeking understanding.
Your technicolor sight vivid as the kiss
given in haste between passing visitors
on a cold winter's night: Lesson of the Silver Chair.

Some would say you are defined by your limitations.
I know your limitations are not physical, they
are deeper and darker, a vile black hatred
masked behind an actor's slick facade.
I wonder if she knows she is making love
to the disabled? Love is blind and mute.

Love, your hands cannot hurt me the way your
petulant discourse can when the world just
isn't what you wanted at the moment for it
to be. No, your hands sharp scarring skin
never hurt me like your dissatisfaction.

Does she cringe in the silent tirade of loathing
whose focus internal bleeds discomfort across pillows
sighs and shuffles into doubt the meaning of love?
How could love ever last in this blue sky homage
to emotional debilitation. Dead, alive, buried.

What right word would have changed the varying
minutia in poignant silence to sweet close comfort
instead of indifferent dismissal for sins uncounted.
How can anyone love your disabled heart and survive?

Your missives that once broke the monotony of my day
are still missed, but I know whatever it was that
lay me bare against you was closer to the blind and deaf
trying to tap out forgiveness, love, and fury in the dark
to a God that neither of us remembered from our youth.

Yet, I listen. I wait for the intrusion that tells me
that your warm cheek against mine dreaming was not
a utilitarian catechism to affirm you are alive.
Instead I hope it was a panacea that sent you Lazarus
into her arms to share the story that love is real.

Rights of Passage

Years pass, they change me
See the past in blue and green
Its like I never left you
Its like I never met you
Years pass, they change me
I become, I became, Im yet to be
Its like I never left you
Its like I never met you

But then in the silence
I am caught in a blink
A photograph of you
Holding onto me
Who was I then?
Who would I be?

Years pass, they change me
See the past in blue and green
Its like I never left you
Its like I never met you
Years pass, they change me
I become, I became, Im yet to be
Its like I never left you
Its like I never met you.

But in this empty room
Scattered pieces
Of me and of you
I find that I am still
Part of this place
but outside it
a state of grace.

Years pass, they change me
See the past in blue and green
Its like I never left you
Its like I never met you
Years pass, they change me
I become, I became, Im yet to be
Its like I never left you
Its like I never met you.

I fall down to my knees
begging my heart
to believe me
I was yours and
now I am not
These photographs
are all Ive got.

Years pass, they change me
I am still what I used to be.
Its like I never left you.
Its like I never forget you.
My face, my hair, these lines
But Im still yours deep inside.
Its like I never left you
Its like I can't forget you.

Aries Daughter

Passion my blood
this war against
everthing
chaos my core
and you seem
daunted by my
half lidded vision
leaned against
the kitchen counter
mouth
slightly open
for egress of hot breath.
You and I have not forgotten
how hands quick speak
flesh into being
bright burning fire
Spartans would never understand.
We come
we go
but this is always the same
grappling of wits
and souls
feet tangled by tongues
until we are
at war on the floor.
Never give up
never say die
only release and sighs
until the next clash
of stalwart forces.
Love thy Enemy.
And I do.

Loathing

There is something special
about that word.
Loathing like slime glistening
slugs beneath bare feet.
Yes, this is what I feel.
Bile rises up in my throat,
my heart sinks,
the smile forced curls my lips;
I loath you.
Hate is not the right word.
Hate is clean, brilliant white.
This is darkness and filth
permeating my skin when you
touch my cheek to say
I love you.