A song comes on
And petals flow through my mind
Vibrant colors and somber seas
And just a a feather falls into my hair-
A wave of guilt encumbers me

The house is empty
I’m wading in warm waters
My breathing freed by fragrant vapor
Then suddenly- I pull closed dark blinds
And lock the shutters shamefully

I see the women who raised me
Akin in blood and height
Yet when I think of what they taught
A cacophony claims that it’s not right
Compassion, kindness, fantasy
Stupid, pointless, trite

So here in virtuous poverty
Two coins, each lacking face
One of he, one if she
A man diseased with empathy

I think of my aborted dreams
And fantasies too gay
I think of sensitivity
And wish that it could stay
This poetry ashaming me
And yet it doesn’t cease
Perhaps it’s leaking from a wound
A crucial missing peace

I’m a good man, or so I claim
Yet have overcome no urges
There is no animal inside
With harbors carnal surges
So why is there this story told
That women love and men just sex
It breaks one’s heart for some illusion
Inequity protects

I wonder if I could live free
Of these male expectations
Demonizing frailty and creative expressions
Imagine all the beauty lost
By guilted boyhood minds
Imagine all the songs and words
That muscles leave behind
Imagine if I shared this text
With friends, and fans, and family
Perhaps I’d have a moment true,
Of honesty,
Of amnesty.

But I was born a lanky man
Who must make my amends
Through cold and stoic apathy
The charade never ends.
So raise your sons most lovingly
And have them as they are
Save them from diminishing
Their elegance of heart
Keep their face towards femininity
It’s a true man’s second part





Claiming that love is some hormone addiction
A chemical fission
Not alchemic ambition
Turning words into gold
With no worldly condition


Entrapped in rotation
Like the sun and the moon
And the ocean’s migration
Envious flicker
Green flash of constriction
Binding my heart to this ancient depiction
Of petals collapsing
And pupils relaxing
And rise from the ashes
Degradation relapsing


For Her

I’m working for her
But not quite towards her
This transient love that I long for
Not stricken with lonliness
But stricken with purpose
For a heart to give my life an encore
I gather my sticks
To build her a nest
And I’ll take to the sky when its proper
Yet in the meantime
I’ll yearn and I’ll rhyme
With romance as something I’ll wait for



Charming in her words
Uniquely chisled as her face
With marble eyes of fountains
In flowing soak encased

The silver stream like vapor
The rising steam of glance
To find a peerless longing
For a creature built of chance

Unique in every factor,
Every fracture,
Every fault,
Yet all of this together,
Captivates with its gestalt

For there is not a single line
Through which she’d be defined
Composed so very wonderous
As if plucked from dreaming mind


District Rain

Streets like canine noses
Afternoon rain subsides
Chilled particles dance upon the wind
While music plays inside

The city never sleeps,
They say,
It sits and sings the blues
Without the sun,
Without the moon,
We sway in foggy streetlight hues

With golden rays upon the street
Glisten green and red
As passing cars glide down below
Midst sunset aubergine

In gleaming mire of wake-ing tire
The streams of beige concrete
This hazy rain can soothe your pain
Through ambiance, replete