Brazen eyes burn

 Brazen eyes burn into me.
Split second you pass me.

 Narrow shades of circles.
Look at me questioningly.
Mind processes charm of them.
 Heart flinches.
 Mouth forms good morning.

Nothing follows.
Abruptly you cross.
 Part of mind and heart,
turns my head.

 I see you go,
 keep head still...

 It turns again.
I wish a silent farewell.
 Something glows within,
 Dull day unable to touch it.

 Rest of the day to digest.
 Brazen eyes burning.
 Questioning...
 Expecting...

Burning the portrait

 You are there taking advantage of life
Your long hair tells a story
you don't want me to know, I walk in foreign
The man in your life stands next to you

Such magnificient platitudes you both share
I am the listener the observer, I am strange
You feel like you are selling your advice to me
But I am not focused on your over optimism

Just the juxtapose of you and your man together
pretending everything is perfect
Sitting before the perturbed artist
Who cannot capture your likeness

For there is no authenticity
The world is not a purchase
Even as they teach you it is so
Living is not a recipe

You cannot cook yourself to freedom
You wander behind the white rose thinking you are invisible
You wander behind the red one and the color clings to your aura
I come into view and you blush midfantasy

The family portrait in spontaneous combustion
Can you feel that heat reflecting as the rest of the room catches
Can you see me holding the matches
Can you see me, just a cup of gasoline?

Separating the clean

 I'm sorting my dirty washing
In the last days of vacation
I have no time
All see that is clean and what is dirty

I seek what is mine both clean and dirty
scattered across the room
We give everything it's meaning
A funny obsession for identifying things

Will I fit everything in the car
Each piece of clothing
I associate with my person
Wanting all of it with me

I look under beds and through all draws
I feel naked without my clothes
I need to wash them all
Separate the clean from the dirty

Break through to know me

 Break the sheet of strangeness -The one that divides us
Reach me from across the way
I'm a guest, I'm a host, a dream, a nightmare
My pace might not match yours
Lets pretend it might all be the same
Interrupt the static and form the image
Inside the screen of these feelings

Cut open the riddle with knife and fork- prepare to digest
Splash the sauce of reason
lets sit down to eat
Eat a piece of me
God let me eat a piece of you
let's pretend it might all be the same
That your flesh might taste like mine

Break the wall that separates us- smash it with the force of your inner chaos
Let light in so things can grow off it 
Discover my exquisite hungers
Slowly uncover my skin
See how I bleed into your reality
How I linger through empty spaces
Even when I'm not there at all

I materialize

 Here I materialize
As the dawn 
as first light 
climbing the stubborn skies

Forming from the horizon
across the rest
Becoming forming 
strengthening

Here I materialize
emerging from the endless water
the ripples into waves
The land welcoming my body like forgotten lover

Forming the footprints across beach sand
Pressing into stubborn red clay
A line of evidence I walked
I sought! I sought!

Here I materialize inside the sacred shade
Under the divine canopy
This is my hall where life speaks to me
The forest welcoming my soul like parents a lost son

Poet tree or therapy

 Poetry is like a tree.
Roots, trunk, branches.
Good like that.

Mine is crowded with lichen,
Fungus, epiphytes.
Too much living on it.

When stripped clean
It becomes ordinary.
Yet I dread to clean it off.

My literary heroes do it.
Have no scrapyards in their lines.
Their poems stand cold and clear.

I leave in the quips.
Reflections, morals.
Nervous meandering.

I want purity on paper.
But hear the verdict already:
He spent time writing silly poems.
To save money on therapy.

Therapy would have been cheaper.

The bully's cage

 How do you approach a bully?
Get under their skin.
Make them feel the discomfort.
They try to distribute on others.

They have fought to possess what they have.
They don't trust themselves to wander far from their own cage.
The bars bent into place through their own rage.
The space barely big enough to hold themselves in.

How do you teach a bully to rethink it all.
To pull them back out of their will toward abuse.
And how much of the abuse is for the other?
And how much are they retaining for themselves?

Remember the contorted face of your bully.
Such a tough front for the world.
How do we ourselves conciliate?
When we find them crying alone in the school bathroom.

Their shame compounding and reviving their sense of deep rage.
They wipe the tears that I witness, stand and push me away.
I offer the hug once more but the bully has made too much space for pain.
Love is a tyrant.