The Mysterious Ways Of Heart

I look at him as he smiles gently and warmly
my heart warms and I have the urge to hold him
between my hands to kiss him and possess him.

The moon is a tricky gent. He plays the notes
and cool droplets of desires and dreams shimmer
on the waxy banana leaves. Oh, the scent of skin!

The wanderer with a cool flame in his eyes
and an uncertain smile on his hesitant lips.
Where is his sensitive blue touch tonight?

Yet Each Man Kills The Thing He Loves

Early this morning there was a purple dream
the Sun in orange glow drifted over the ocean
setting the wings of Willets on a golden fire.
For a moment I saw Phoenixes everywhere
I saw life, death and the eternal recurrence
and I tried to will you into existence next to me.

Does each thought have a color?
What is color anyway? A perception?
For you it must be blue.
For me, I don't think I actually know.
Lately I have been shrouded in a gray fog
and I need to clear my head and my heart.

I think we each have a choice
but there is a tender comfort in knowing
that a beautiful death awaits everything.
For we must eventually kill .. kill all things we love.

The Night I Was Born

There was a storm of historic proportions
and my grandmother said to my mother
"Watch out! This child here is trouble".
I smiled in my sleep and swallowed
the dark clouds and the terrible winds.

I am made of fierce, fecund things
a wild child with a storm for a soul
with the deep blue ocean for a heart
the dark sparkle of night for eyes
and  a passion for beauty and truth.

There Is This Thing

There is this .. thing within me
made of purple smoke and umber skies
it plays right beneath my eyelids.
There are moments when it unravels
but mostly it remains a mystery.
I close my eyes tight and wanting
this time I want to catch it by its wings
I see green lanterns and a soft breeze
and I see it.. the thing of sacred desire
a dull ache permeates the world
it is not a thing but a force
that runs everything, including you and I.
A will to power. A law manifesting truths.
Yes, there are most certainly multiple truths.

I wish I could share my dreams with you
wish I could ride the starlit waves over to you
but my song .. it is that of the ancients
from a world that now forgot its language
a language that belonged to gods and poets
whose melodies made fire and water.
I don't ever create. The words choose to arrive.
So, you must wait. Stealthy and dwelling in shadows.
Just the way I like you!

Moonlit Rainbows

The sound of a blues guitar played under the stars
it is like the moan of a woman deeply in love
as her lover touches her skin, gentle and light.
It is the prayer offered to the gods of desire
when language disappears into the night
as dreams twirl and set the world on fire.

The Man Who Is Working For His Death

He said he was a descendant of the Babylonian Sufis
supposedly they migrated from India thousands of years ago.
He told me his story as we talked about Sufi poetry
about the transience of life and the permanence of love
the mystical connection between Sufism and music
his degree in classical music from University of London
the year at Juilliard's and switching to Jazz
and the series of unwise choices he made in life
although to him they did not feel like choices at the time
it was like other paths were not illuminated for him.

So how is it that you are doing this now?
A year ago, I had a bad case of lymphoma.
Wait, what? Yes, it is true!
He said that in a perfectly detached tone
as if he was talking about a bedbug infestation in his building
He did not have insurance and he was bankrupt after the treatment
Now he drives a car to make a living (I wonder what that means for him)
and he tells me why he is saving some money.

"They tell me this lymphoma will come back in four or five years
and when it does, I don't want to undergo chemo nor do I want to be here
I will buy a one way ticket to Nepal or Bhutan
I will let this body die a peaceful death and I will find a new body.
If I meet you in the next cycle, I will say Hello".

I wish you nothing but a wonderful journey, my friend!
I am thankful to have met you and to have known your soul
I hope to meet you again and I hope I will recognize your kind smile.

The Game

An intoxicating smile lingers today in my head

the delicate touch of a hand shimmers like a mirage

and from a distance I sense a thin film of salty desire 

I thought we forgot this wonderful game of seeking

O dear life, what fun you are! 

On Nights Like These

I fly into the silver gray skies searching for you.
Summoned by the dreams of nymphs and satyrs
the moon shimmers and smiles in veiled silence.
A blue bird on a distant shore sings of longing
only fools know what it is like to truly desire.

A long journey through the guarded dreams
self-denial .. self-annihilation.. now truth dawns
upon the heart with love and immense beauty
and I find you nestled between the pages of every story
smiling and patiently waiting for me to discover you.