regretfully.

I listen.
Ear pressed against layers of lyrics and strings,
harmonies and syncopations,
for any indication,
for what I hope for ,
for what is not sure.
Tonight ,
simplistically,
surely, purely,
child -like.
And what was that you said,
that its all in my head?

gray hair

"Education is teaching our children to desire the right things"
-Plato-
For some reason this quote has been haunting my thoughts..once processed output to follow. .
muse..muse...muse....

late night

its 2a.m.
I cant sleep, damn that hazelnut coffee, damn that wine.
pleasures brevity turned into longevity.
ooo00 the colbert report is on....

+tallymarks

+ one for you
location: shoulder
+ 3 for me
location: knee, knee, knee
friendly hands betray what mouth wont say.

agosto and or the columbian ( I havent learned my lesson yet)

agosto 1.2007.

In the same measure,
in the same form ,
in the same gentleness you have awakened me.
and it was all. skin. teeth. tongue. fingertips. neck .
saliva. lips.
there. here.
---unbeknowst to me
-------these--
the noises . the silences. the words .clothed themselves in desire
giving form to a latent hunger,
stirred,
awakened . barely coherent still,
groggy eyed .
calm, unexpressable.
Behind entanglements of temperance and self control,
of time ,
{of patience}
of apprehension, lest this proves to be false
lest this proves to cause pain
thereby calming reminding me
that self-preservation has been its melody all along .

july 8th. 2007 (revisited)

I thought that this was it.
The hope,
the dream ,
the time,
that would lead to
the touch ,
the kiss.
That would finally release
this desire
this longing,
like a torrent of rain , but it was not .
and the ,
sweet. deep desire ,
turned into the pain of unrequited
of boundaried
of halted
of dammed eros,
..damn eros.

i have seen

This is a poem from a literary journal that I am submittting work to be published, I cannot stop reading it. enjoy.

Portrait of the artist, withered
by Kelly Jean Campbell

I have seen how he waits:
he waits all night, vigilant
for the dawn, shivering steadfast
in the dark, barefoot
by a drafty window.
And when light seeps through its dark gauze,
he ladles it in;
a little spills on the floor.
The rest he pulls, taffylike, into threads,
makes a sheet of it on a great glass loom.
This time, he folds it, wraps it, and stores it
on a dusty closet shelf.

i do's .

anna leigh irby,
now donado.
noted.
happy forever together!
two now one,
life journey just begun.
forever learning
always forgiving.
This mystery,
this beauty,
a treasure perceived
now for you received.