Tao

In the stolen hour before dawn
every life is equal
Plants stretch open, anticipating
the next crucial sequal
Husband and son asleep snore softly
demands not yet spoken-
But I and my tea watch the sunrise
with a peace unbroken.

Every Piece of Self

I'll hold you
And feed you
hopeless lies
I will make
your dreams mine
I will paint
my own face
in your pain
My blood will
flow from your wounds
and
Every piece of Self
I possess
will break
to love you
If you would
simply smile
once more.

Circular

She waits, tense-
The tingles slithering up
Her spine may seem
To mark arousal, but

He fidgets, wondering

Just what horrible crime

Now has been committed

Unknowingly by himself and

She allows only so many
Stale offensive excuses before
She ends suspense and,
In severing pretense

Which he will undoubtedly

Be wishing had never,

Ever happened, but will

Unfortunately be hopeless

To previous episodes of
Seemingly erroneous forgiveness
Somehow finds some tiny
Little speck of desire

To help avert, in

Their alleged future when

All forgiveness seems to again

Be so woefully out of reach-

Leftovers

I have nothing tonight-
Meaningless words flap around
With all the grace of a dying fish
I've no desire to fight
Any battle of empty words
Over the scraps of a leftover wish.
Turn the oven off
And just walk away
Tomorrow can wait
At least one more day.

Shadows

When I was a child
I had to stand sideways to see you
a fleeting thing so swift

With a midnight cloak
imbued with tiny specs of light
perfect for resting in.

Its dark folds mesmerized-
So swiftly passed the night!
With so little fear

Now, I find
I cannot see the edge of sight
for it has wrapped around me

Enfolding me
  Resting me
    Beyond Rest

Walk with me!
So long as you're at my side
Rather than before me.

A Haiku for Vartan

You think a straight line
holds the only truth but your
DNA spirals

Impossible

The man squeezes shut his eyes
To hide from whom?
Every face is his father's.
Impossible.

In a vacant grey bedroom
Feathers float up
Away from past destruction-
It's not his war,
But he cannot escape now.
His eyes chain him
To some dredged up foggy past
If he could just-
But there are no answers there
Only thin dreams
Dreamed by men with closed-up eyes
And too-loud mouths.

His face passes the feathers,
Heart left behind-
It weighs too much to rise up?
Impossible.