Mindful Tides

If Not Now, When?

Forecast

This is the first sleep night’s wind can
Visit skin like a drug-store wanderer
Shoplifting solace from housewares
And taking leave with no receipts

This is the first breathe of humid morning
Dusty box-fan breezes find us
In quilt-shields protecting purpose
But spring just paints promise

The last miracle that graced me
Were rustling sheets and shifting feet
That thought, a prayer, or a chance
Brought you here to the right side of my bed

Sunshine

You are my sunshine
My favorite song line
You’re made of stardust
In skies away

You walk with moons, dear
But you’re the cosmos
You’re the halo
On my cloudy days

Street Lights

People might just like me
Because I never stop playing
Or dancing, or singing

So I feel like home
Before dinner time
Cartoons and candy.

Muse

Your hands on my back
Sing like cotton seeds
In mid-day sunlight
When birds find bread
Or rains feed weeds
Where my guard rests
For light to creep
From cracks of doors
The keys are yours
And you fit so well
Like knowing to fly
As soon as I dream

Transparent

I’ve never been closer
To where I’ve always been
But with a fresh coat of paint
On a bed of timid eyes
Topped with smiles
I can’t control

Lucidity is useful
Unless instinct
Is more potent
Than what makes sense.

High

My footsteps dance
And time disappears
High and pulling forward
Throughout the night
I slept in your mind

Honest

I’m more tired believing truth
than ignoring its company.
And if I could’ve gone on lying-
that’s exactly what I’d do.
But it’s hard to disregard
such a mingling work of art
anxious asphyxiation and
heroin my brain creates
battling tensions
and whispers
of "don’t"
But I 
Still
Want to

Granainas

Each step I take
is a rock in mud
Under a river on fire
with stars
Pulling moss along
like kites
Where even silt
lays alive
Under waning moons
the same
A romance that calls
for flight
If only wings were sprouting
Off these walls of
rigid weight
To choose courage
Is the war of
who we are
The price of
being born.

Morning Cold

I know you: dark-haired, clean shaven
Polished symmetry of a man that wore
Striped shirts, crew cuts, cologne
And wide smiles, spending hands
Straight-jacketed suppressed and lonely
You wanted a woman of freedom, spirit
The kind that hides most under silk
Pretend each slink and curve an accident
And when her smile stops exciting
When her lips begin to challenge you
Your handsome shell throws away
The tired toy you’ve been holding
And she walks away, confused

I know you: tuned out dreadlocked
Harmony of oak and creation, bold with
Bark sweaters and sweet songs
Strung up tin cans with lids detached
Pounding pavement in time
You wanted a lady who smokes and cries
The kinds that dance in afternoon sun
Catch twigs on cotton dress-skirts
She can’t sing, but howls like your wolf
Until your low smog haunts her eyes
Self-bound glory that can’t grow up
Her furious curiosity belligerent
And walks away with a stretch.

I know you, so close you breathe,
As a ghost, down my neck, at 6am
Dawn breaks and you blow soft light
On the backs of bare thighs
Here between dream and torturous wake
You want a girl that comes primed
The emptiest white god could find
Laughing her way to knowing
Painting each cell and crevice with
Actions, her patience, her scent
Infinite pieces you make together
She fills deep bruising cracks
With yellows and blues…

I know you, untouchable truth
Only as morning cold

Gone

I see all of your Notes
And Dont’s and Doubts
Still, even as moons and paychecks
Haircuts and cups of tea pass
In a white cage I’ll keep you
Watching in on a bird
Whose song I’ll never hear again
Wings made of Woulds
Coulds and Cants
One note from your throat
Would mean broken bars
A creation of a universe
A death of ourselves
So ask me again, “Why?”
My…
Unburdening my tongue to yours
Could be sweet, but isn’t truth
You might’ve heard me sing
In a cage of your own
But, love, you missed your chance
And I can’t live in your world
If I’m starving