when

ordinary days are not the same anymore, I'm with her here and there, mostly I'm not, mostly I miss her, mostly I'm alone wondering why I'm still alone, wondering if we'll ever be together, but mostly... I wonder when

we get stuck on pause/rewind/repeat until play moves us forward in cartoon-paced slow-motion, another worry in her head, another scene plays out in mine, we both want the hurt to stop, and it will... but we don't know when

we make love on occasion, its always otherworldly, its a kissfuck tender-to-rough-sucked delight that's physical-turn-spiritual and inward-fulfilling, a blissful endless orgasmic loveclimb that's only limited by the constraints of... when

love floats everywhere, its all around us, we grasp we grab but we only get some of it, we are distanced but devoted, connected but promises apart, she says she wants a life with me, and I want a life with her, but our days keep wasting away to... when

(image from saatchiart.com)

among leaves

I'm gazing out across the field of trees wondering which leaf I am. which insignificant burst of life that comes forth and falls to the ground unnoticed. any one of them could come and go and its space would just be filled in by another. there's no happiness or sorrow, no being loved or unloved. among leaves life is simple, there's no heart by which they suffer

I find myself out there in a million different places, hanging on in a million different ways. I am the bright green new one, little and fresh. I am red and golden with Autumn's touch. I am fluttering in the breeze, mangled by the storm, lightly frail in the drought. I am each and I am any

I come upon my last self. it's winter and it's cold. I am ready to let go. the branch is already bare but for me. I'm looking down and I'm not afraid to fall. come spring others will gaze and new leaves will be here. I will not be remembered. I will not be missed. the eyes delight in what they see, in what's in front of them. never in what's gone

(image from best-wallpaper.net)

empty, beautiful

how quickly the sunrise comes and goes
  the passenger seat was empty
  the view was quite beautiful
  no one saw me smile

  I didn't shave again this morning
  dropped an egg on the kitchen floor
  the yolk failed to break
  no one heard me laugh

  a little boy said hello to me
  the line at the DMV wasn't too bad
  his face was unimpressionable
  no one shared my happiness

  everything important is abstract
  love is a challenging endeavor
  the sanctity of touch is forgotten
how quickly the sunrise comes and goes

(my photo)

out of focus

everything's muddled in the
middle
and the smudged edges of
the mirror now plague me

those undefined forms of
self that lie on the periphery
seemingly always intangible,
always circumnavigating

I want to see past my own
reflection into other things.
there's clarity in the darkness
once you get there

but there is such a long way
off and out of focus.
I need to make sense of what's
here, what's in front of me

(image from zestymaids.com)

light

all the grass turns
green again
and every hour is
a new hour

fears are doomed by
the light,
light by which now
guides us in

light that spills and
splashes scattered,
bouncing gleefully from
here to there

from me to you, from
you to me
and all the grass turns
green again

dear diary

there are
people in the streets
my mouth foaming yours
with cult-like optimism
shared fanny packs of
viral inhibitions

heads yawing left n right
paralyzed scrambled ambition
under a cell tower the
fog consistency of hated
loving is repetitious

cereal on a spoon we
sugar lust sweeter than
necessary when plain
loses taste the mind
fantasizes better addictions

debits equal credits the
church pew offering is a
pharmacy counter exchange
hands trembling fearful
desperate giving n receiving

washing sweaty sheets
again the fever spreads
despite the foreplay agenda

dear diary
we are lost today

(Agony by Marcus Ortega on fineartamerica.com)