April 2012

How is lonely managed in the lives of others

Empty meaning holding at stop signs and

diner booths thru windows peered

Search to meaning in other.

My own want too great

to handle.

Still……..      the sun remains.

I think I’ve never been pulled apart this way.

I am always pulled apart this way

No that to discover.

Countdowns to nothing.

Birds waking earlier every morning.

Alley ways you bring me thru

Never real.


Plastic bags caught in razor wire around

the cemetery.

Lilacs seize the day

Even they entangled with plastic remains.

Soon all alley ways lead to

Memory                No stranger

Still I rearrange life for

Still…….                   Wanting

Never simple to say

Come here

What we do to make life work

the lengths we go to ensure the magic stays

Shadows fading               Concrete remains


I drive across town to do my laundry

5 a.m.

Can’t sleep.

Grab mail, let myself in,

make coffee.

A card addressed to me from the owner

of the house, sent from San Francisco

acknowledging our friendship.

We are an odd meeting of kindred hearts.

And we move on.

A thread on facebook leads me


Lana’s death……

I hear the missed call from Meggen

two days ago

telling me to call back no matter how

late I think it may be….

Last night I burned with the longing


when you’ve known Love

and your skin seeks to touch the insides

of another…..

My insides needing to be touched through skin

not by “somebody” but by Love.

We are so young

and I can hardly keep up

with how quickly this life continues to go by

Pressing gently into this space

resembling home

what can you hold again in this world?

I often see nothing tangible about this living

other than these experiences of the heart

and its way of moving on.

Does the thief


this thin layer of

body as



hallowed out space

where expectations seek to

fill in the gaps…..

begin to see

no self for hollowing?

Is stolen


that never arrives?

Is thief


of skin….


and understanding

to dance thru words encrypted?

Thief with holding heart?

Stolen a concept of time?


what we begin to learn

with the eyes’

rise to

both your innocence and mine?

Innocence meaning freedom…..


untangled vision

of the rested heart.