not alone, but lonely

[for jeff, for me, for all of us]

not alone, but god - so, so lonely.

someone asks me, 'where are you now?'
and i tell him of my travels -

i have soared with an albatross across icy seas, i have looked a lioness in the eye and not faltered, i have climbed great peaks and rolled down infinite sand dunes, skimmed the bottom of the ocean and seen stars in many eyes. i have sipped wine with angels beneath spring leaves and burnt in the flames of unrequited love.

i have travelled more than most people would care,
and yet,
yes,

in the end,
i am still here,
in this same room,
beneath this same light.

i tell him, it's not so much about where i am right now, but more about the ache that i feel in my heels,

the reminder of all my experience.

i try not to mind all this travelling.

one day we all find our goddess beneath the olive tree.
our time will come.

alabaster realities

if i could
sculpt alabaster
realities from
dreams
i would grab your
hand and leave
and hide in some
dark x-ray room
and kiss you
all over and over
and take your glasses
off and swim
in your green oceans
with the moons
of monitors
lighting our caresses.

so what about these grey walls (feb 07)

so what about
these
grey walls

and
these drab

troughs

of conversation?

so what about
these
sideways glances
fake grimaces,
these tales of
tears that
flood this room?

for last night
under the moon
i lay on a bench top

staring
up
at the night sky

drinking it in
with a hot chocolate

and a

beautiful girl

warm in my arms

this orange-peeled view (jan 07)

this orange-peeled view
highlighted by
furrowed brows
that crumple everyone down
this taste in our mouths

i feel like spitting

who's mentally well
anyway
eh?

everywhere i see a conspiracy
the shadow of a puppeteer
looming behind each facade
i cannot lift myself
from the
tarmac
to
kill
him

cigarette butts chewing gum shards
of glass dried blood and the
five-minute promise of love
the used condom
i almost stepped on it

then,
this security guard i see
every morning
today he steps out
what now i think

good morning buddy,
don't be blue!
have a
great
day
eh?

for a moment i glimpse
the fleeting flowers of
my utopic dreams in the light
of this
simple
selfless
random
act of kindness.

sometimes i wish (dec 06)

sometimes i wish
i could hide
behind sunglasses those
awfully large ones
like bug eyes
like the lady who
wears the same
clothes every day
because she's
the queen.

then, my friend
it's easy
to cry
and
to stare at your
olive-splashed skin
calves and thighs from
across the room
as you cross
your heavenliness
and dream about
sliding
upwards
along your smooth
contours
finally to what
hides beneath
your skirt
and lose
myself

and lose again.