Drifting Away

the old year spirals
down like sea gull feathers
drifting drifting
through canal waters
back to the ocean

Pre-Occupation

in my mind
so pre-occupied
with you
there is no room for peace
no room for quiet

Love Harvest

doesn't she realize
that i am not like an apple tree
in the orchard,
where the picker
can come as often as she wants?

Eleventh Hour

moonlight stripes
through december blinds
I can see
new year's day waiting
in january's wings

Silk Thread

oftentimes
when i meditate,
a thread of high-pitched sound,
an eternal vibration that resides
deep inside my brain,
overcomes my thoughts,
eradicating the white noise of passing
cars, crows, and wind-
a primal whisper of hunger and anxious love.

psychologists say
the buzz insided my skull
is the squeal of my nervous system
a silk thread that stretches
back to the liquid night before my birth.

but as i transcend the universe,
i know the single-string song has a far
greater meaning.

every day
like a spider in the corner of a room,
i spin a web of love
and with the same sacred material
try to snare the only creature
that can bring meaning to my life.

Moonlight

i wish
my kisses
were the moonlight
spilt o'er your naked flesh
at midnight

Love Nest

in winter, we'll cuddle
on a plush bed with thick pillows.
we'll be comfortable;
a nest of mad kisses
lying in each fold.


you'll close your eyes, so as not
to see our flaming shadows
wildly gesticulating;
those meddling dancers, a troupe
of black demons and coyotes.


then you'll feel your cheek scratched-
a tiny kiss, like a spider, will run around your neck-
bowing your head, you'll whisper,
"find it!" and i'll take a long time
pursuing that elusive creature