promise me

promise me I'm more than the ghost 

of your desiring heart, 

your true love 

in all the worlds we've ever lived, 

the gaze of an inner eye 

transfixed upon the shape of 

my existence,

then life would not be lived in

strained vanity, 

a dust mote in beams of 

splendid light

without shadow or gravity, 

is such love possible 

beyond ideas and 

good intentions? 

safe space

there are no words for what I long for, 

nor teacher for this folly, 

love's mirrored image 

set in calm repose, 

despite the raised eyebrow 

our laughter trails off into the night, 

dare i assume the safety of this 

sacred place

and make myself a fool again, 

naive man that i am, 

i thought this time was different.

Sidewalk thoughts Aug. 27.25

I will have a revolution within myself.  
I will overturn values that have been planted and grown inside me by other people and institutions.
I will learn to see the world as if for the first time.
My eyes will be those of a newborn infant, slow to categorize, label, judge.
I will listen to those around me better.
I will seek more moments of silent meditation.
I will grow something beautiful inside my heart.

when we were close

when we were close
i took those golden moments 
for granted,
when the sight of your face was
sunshine warming mine,
and now at the end of an age
you drift,
a whispering specter haunting 
everything.
like Odysseus i'd offer blood
to bring you back.
where have you gone?
can i trace this filament back to the
exact moment you became 
a ghost?
would i find my own fault there?
oh to turn the hands of time 

I just wanted to say...

She placed the freshly-picked flowers in a glass vase and said,  “I almost don't want to talk about the things I wish for because I'm afraid they won't come true, you know?”

In that moment I desperately needed her to be speaking of us.

“I didn't take you for a superstitious person,” I said with a smile, more teasing than anything else, trying to ignore the ache I felt in my heart.

“I'm not really superstitious,” she said, “I just feel like whenever I really want something and let other people know it, I end up not getting it.”

And in that moment I realized there was something deeper being expressed in those words. This was the expression of a sense of loss, of unfulfilled and frustrated hope repeated again and again. I suddenly felt deeply honoured she'd shared this with me.

Before I could say anything her friend came in from outside. Our conversation returned to the mundane world of work.

The next day we came together in the same place. Our eyes met and we held each other's gaze for a time. I was the first to speak:

“I've been thinking about what you said yesterday, about how you feel that telling your wishes to others might mean they won't come true.”

I waited for her reaction to gauge whether to keep speaking or change the subject. She gently nodded and I continued.

“I just wanted to say…”

In Nepal

in Nepal I saw a tear 

fall from the eye of a Buddha 

and splash upon the earth.

as I watched, a flower grew 

in that very spot. 

it was fragrant, like freshly 

opened lilac or hyacinth. 

the Buddha's gaze was 

unperturbed, serene. 

the flower danced in the 

cool Himalayan breeze.

i had witnessed a miracle, and 

yet… 

i felt no surprise as

the flower bent toward me. 

i leaned forward, until 

my forehead touched its petals. 

10,000 suns illuminated the sky 

and i fell to the earth blind. 

i heard a buzzing noise, 

like a giant cicada coming 

closer to my ears. 

when it reached a volume 

i could hardly bear, 

it vanished and the light 

shattered to thousands of pieces. 

quiet on the mountaintop. 

wind graced my hands and hair,

my eyes remained closed.

crunching on the gravel path behind me 

as a traveller up the trail 

made summit. 

but when I opened my eyes 

there was no Buddha, 

no flower. 

a woman, her dark hair shining in 

the mountain air. 

she took my face in her hands and 

touched her forehead to mine. 

she gave me water and I slowly drank. 

absence

the genie won't go back 

in the bottle, 

how tight the throttled 

vapors as they escape 

the chambered waiting, 

i will grant you all your wishes, 

all your papered wishes, 

and dissolve to nothing 

before your distracted 

presence. 

we will fall victim to your 

self-actualization,

memorialized by a 

mile high black obelisk 

with the words 

“ABSENCE” 

carved into its cold surface,

reflecting no light, 

invisible in the coming 

night. 

little bird

oh time you slip away
and i can't catch my breath
as i press against this autumn chill

when the lonely bird 
finds its evening tree
and the night wind sways the
branch it calls home
she blinks the stars above
from her tear-filled eyes
and like shooting stars
they fall to the ground below
she will pass unnoticed 
she will pass unnoticed
like a dry leaf blown from its 
withered twig 

my steps beneath the
cold dark trees
a collar to the coming
winter's wind
a movement catches my eye:
a small feather swirls around
the frosty ground and passes
into the night

if i could drown in you

if i could drown in you

i wouldn't hold my breath
or struggle
but close my eyes and
inhale every drop of you

the water is a crystal blue tonight

and upon its surface
float two blood red roses
how perfect their last moments
together

this is a mystery
so profound it leaves me
speechless

L'avenir n'est pas un souvenir

Pachebel's canon played the day 

I watched you down the aisle 

Your smile made stars seem dim 

And the world was all promise

Imagine then if we knew 

Life would split in a hundred ways 

If heaven itself would fall 

For one of us 

New Year's Day 2025

J'ai vécu plusieurs vies

Je ne sais pas si

Tu connais les noms 

De mes enfants

Dans notre enfance

Nous avons rêvé de ces choses

-Rembobine, réfléchis-

Le futur est aussi 

Réel que le passé

Mais l'un est parti

L'autre est une promesse

À réaliser

I promised

I promised in the last life  

I'd find her in the next 

An age went by 

And cities fell 

While worlds were turned to ash 

Before she came and grew 

And I was born and knew 

The person standing there

was you 

Every death creates a veil 

Obscuring reborn sight 

Until the sacred moment 

(often late into the night) 

The inner eye is opened 

And you see things as they are 

How bright you've shone 

To reach this eye, 

How far…

mirror

you are mirrored 

neuroses 

of each other, 

and it's love 

the bliss of love, 

the intensity of it a

cosmic rip in 

spacetime 

when will destiny be

fulfilled 

and the sighing days

cease to 

exist 

if i waited

this whole life i've waited

for the jewel of my soul, 

and she is it and doesn't know, 

and another thinks she is, 

and another grows very curious,

another lends her ear, 

and another married a cruel, stupid man, 

still another wants to run away

my life and reason with a smile that 

could break the blazing sky,

where in the world do you 

keep your quiet home? 

will i be a gray and tired man

before the day? 

I saw her

i lay no claim to her

and life itself cannot own

her passing

for she lives a deeper magic

untouched by any common 

hour 

but... i'd like to think

i've seen her with my

patient eyes 

sharpened by the northern wind, 

Middle Eastern suns, 

and jungles of infinite green, 

there beneath the 

lightbulb in my kitchen 

i saw her. 

how was it possible? 

i was ready...

Midnight in the back of my car

Midnight. In the back of my car we made love until we were dripping like the foggy windows. Then the thing all back seat lovers fear: the knock at the window.

It was her mother. How she found us down that dead-end road in the middle of the night is still a mystery to me, but she did, with that supernatural radar mothers have. The knock. The knock that threw us into motion like thieves caught in the act. What were we stealing? 

She got dressed faster than me and stormed out of the car to confront her mother. As I pulled my clothes on I heard them yelling at each other. I was impressed by her ferocity. I'd be sheepish. I was caught fair and square. What right would I have to put up a fight?

She came back and told me she had to go. She told me everything was ok and she'd call me soon. They drove away and I turned my defrost on full so I could see. I was that guy, wasn't I?  The ones parents fear.

There was a difference, I told myself. I actually loved her. I didn't know what the hell I was doing but I loved her. The drive was 30 minutes through the hills and trees and I turned the whole thing over in my mind. When I got home I slipped in through the bedroom window so I wouldn't wake my family. 

As sleep came to me I thought about the water running down the inside of my car window and her hand pressed against it while we made love, in the same spot her mother put her hand when she knocked... 

promise me

promise me

you'll find the beauty 

in our world

when my eyes

no longer see 

promise me 

you'll have vision 

for the two of us 

i, looking 

through you

in this moment of

pure existence 

double-visioned 

graced moment of 

divine sight 

let light fill 

our body

in the presence of 

this passionate 

cohabitation 

i am always with you 

if you have eyes 

to see 

being here

"repetition

variation

intersect in

Mother Gaia,

existence is our

salvation from the

Void" -Jerus Maximus

We unfold like paper umbrellas

little bloomings

snowflakes on the crinkled nose

of a child

glorious revelations

brilliant in our being

soon forgetful

all enveloped cultural

pigs in blankets

fit only for 

consumption

reawakened by small

sparks

glimmers of light on

lips of strangers

reminders of our 

effervesence

or as Hegel once said the:

"foaming ferment of finitude"

you're full of secrets

you're full of secrets
and unfathomable spaces
so terrible in their
invincible aspect
i'm broken to pieces
when did you become the
Unconquerable Sun of 
our earthy domain?
what alien womb 
gave you birth?
what's to stop me 
worshipping you 
at an altar i hastily 
construct with these
still strong hands
oh indifferent god of 
Being?

all life is a day

all life is a day

dawning and dusking

golden light between the 

twinned darkness 

we find ourselves 

here 

this day 

terrible in its 

naked givenness... 

is its contemplation 

not the highest 

form of consciousness?

I walk the green 

path toward the

wine dark sea 

are you here with me? 

or will you slip 

into an hour of 

your own? 

I feel the 

sand beneath my feet 

the pound of surf 

upon the lightless shore 

soon we'll be 

no more 

when the weather grew cold

when the weather grew cold

she came to me

trailing freshly 

fallen leaves 

crisp from morning frost 

with hot tea and 

warm bread 

the sunlight golden on her 

wind-blown head 

her eyes all bright with

new welcome and 

desire 

I clung to her like moss 

on a stone 

inseparably grown with 

ages of time

"you'll always be mine" 

she whispered 

and the trees bowed

in solemn witness

to her words 

and my heart bent 

with those ancient woods

toward her