Monthly Archives: February 2014

Bye, my love!

A friend called me to say
she is gone.

Just like that.

Breast cancer took her.

She will never see fifty.
That girl who made it
difficult for me to breathe
every time I saw her
for three years in college.

I was eighteen then
and absolutely infatuated.

We never spoke.
We never dated.
I was just in love
with the idea her.

Her beauty, her poise,
her easy charm, her eyes.

She was aware
of my madness and
may be secretly
pleased with
my devotion.

But she never
encouraged me.

She was too
dignified for that.

But she never looked away
when I gazed at her
with the want that
only a love-mute eighteen
year old boy can
manage.

She was
kind like that.

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Bondage

Habits are chains
with which we bind
ourselves.

They are the stuff
slavery is made if.

And they are
so hard to break
because we love
slavery.

Freedom is terrifying.
We don’t know what to do.
With our time.
With our hands.
With our heads.
With our hearts.

Only the dead are truly free.
The living just keep
yearning for freedom.

From their dead-end jobs.
From their loveless marriages.
From their soul crushing lives.

Everyone wants to let go.
No one ever does.


Walking the dog

Walking the dog at night.
Led along blindly by the tug.
Lost in the dog moment.
Watching it stop, go, sniff
poop, pee, look.
Am I walking the dog
Or is the dog walking me?
Why does every road looks the
same at night?
Déjà vu neighbourhoods.
Behind the dark windows
of houses people are
snoring, fucking,
sweating, hurting, dying.
Every road the same.
Every night the same.
My heart is a bitch that
has me on a leash.
Sniffing the night for you.
Even when I know you
are long gone.
Led along by the tug.
Blindly.


Distracted

Love,
like any growing thing,
needs constant
attention.

What kills it is neglect.

In this world too busy to care,
we all chase respect
when all we need is love.

We are fools.
Every last one of us.

Who has the time to make love,
talk, enjoy silences together?

There is so much to be done.
Money to be earned.
Success to be had.
Fame to be achieved.

Everyone is so busy.
And so fucked up.

Little termites of worry
nibbling away our hearts
until one day there is nothing
but  dust and chewed up
bits of what was once beautiful
enough to make
the earth move.


This is it

I am done with you.
I have to go or
I will go mad.

I want you constantly.
And you are never really there.

I miss you all the time
but you don’t really care.

You love me and a lot else.
I only love you.

You are not hurting me.
I am hurting myself.

I want all of you.
You want some of me.

And that’s so
not happening.


Gunday, The Movie

Two criminals
who are orphans,
who are also refugees,
who are also childhood buddies,
who also love dancing,
who are also gym-toned,
who also have good teeth,
who also have good hair,
who also love running in slow-mo,
who are also in love with
the same girl
who
is
a
cop.

Wrap your head
around that one,
Tarantino!


Impasse

It’s so hard when what
you hope for is
the opposite
of what you wish for.

Every day I wish
I could forget you
and hope
I don’t ever.

My heart is at war
with my head.
And I die in the crossfire
every moment.

I wish to die
every morning
and hope to see
you every evening.

Neither happens.

And it just hurts.
All the time.