You took me for a ride.
Brought me to the edge.
And for you
I crossed
on intrepid wings of rising sensation
to the other side,
flying for a moment
then falling
to a little death,
le petite mort.
My release
is a pulsating explosion of vivid color and feeling,
propelling me into
the afterglow
of the dreamworld,
where knowing is sudden
and effortless.
Doors open in my mind
and I traverse the familiar pathways through the artistic landscape of my soul
while u lie next me, fingers interlaced with mine, breathing and dropping into your private spell of sleep.
My inner journey takes me outside of time,
into the world of the ancestors
and beyond.
In my wandering I meet an emissary
of necessary wisdom.
The eternal message flows, in words unspoken:
“beneath the shallow veil
of this surface reality,
of thought and images and emotions that fleetingly possess you
you are loved
you are loved
you are loved.”

Pursuit of Poetry


Always a lonely hunter of the heart,

I stalked your movements across the wilderness of my inner visions,

contemplated your various images like Rorschach blots

as they were painted in my dreams,

your petulant moods, your hard walls and ragged edges,

your painful betrayals, your ambiguous returns,

your stolen kisses

taken like a thief in the night.


When I saw you,

your brooding eyes spelled me to you

like sorcerer’s stones.

Your carefully cast glances entered the soft, yearning places on my body

with invisible hooks,

luring me to crave

your warm touch,

the familiar feel

of your rough hands

on my skin.


Inside my void, I rearranged things

with the insight of my secret wisdom.

I watched

as you fell through an inevitable crack

in the liminal space,

dove into the pool

of desire.


“God brought us together in this place” you said philosophically

after grabbing me

and pulling me to you at the bar.

But I only believe

in a personal god

and the artistry

of this living dream,

so when I found myself later that night

lying sweetly in your arms like a bear cub

in a cozy cave,

I knew I had crafted that moment with the clay of my will,

had penned it with my own divine hands,

as that is what I am willing to do

in pursuit of poetry.

The Eye


You gave me the eye the other night.

Looked me down hard.

The air between us cracked for a hot moment

with a bolt of ambiguous desire.


I was struck,

became helplessly flustered.


Grew flushed and wanting.


You sauntered by me,

your chest puffed out meaningfully in my direction,

projecting rough masculinity like a magnet

that you know has the power

to draw me in.


If only time, distance, and social decorum

did not stand in the way,

I would have cut the space between us in two

with the sharpness of my fierce and unceasing heart,

rained a torrent of kisses on your lips

and unleashed the wiles of my native passion upon your body

like a ferocious and tender storm.