Old Tricks

Faith is love
We have to understand
Because love does not exist alone
And to always love without knowing faith
Is the folly of the living

We always make that mistake

We cast our spells
Work our magic
Tried our best in believing
A love potion, a wishing candle, a talisman so he would fall madly in love with you

Despite clear differences in our horoscopes my love I will make you love me as I have made many before you

You will not be the last and I will not be the end

That’s final, finito, fin

And when you’re old and weak, my sweet? 

When your body can’t hold on to parlour tricks and petty favors?

The old gods and the spiritfolk you invoked and promised a million times over?

What happens then?

shh
I will continue to believe as I have
A thousand rivers dry ago
And it grows, my faith
Blind and wild like fire

You will not tame me
It will not go
that’s faith, not love, sorry;
always a misunderstanding

Not love, I want a whole belief system
A symphony, an explosion,
Proof that my faith
Is as strong as my hands
they did not shake when you left
As strong as my lips
they did not quiver when you left
As strong as my faith
They did not-

.

When the day sets in

and the clouds are here to stay

trust the fall, but hold on to the rope

your time is not up

you don’t get to go

places are names for people to remember the memories they made one Sunday afternoon

never Mondays

like that time when i drank too much Cabernet that it stained my lips a dirty red

and you licked your thumb to wipe the quiver off my lips

 

i made a decision to like you that day

it wasn’t very hard, but it was like choosing to put all your eggs in the basket-i don’t know why people do that, use idioms for a feeling that can very well be described in one word-but i digress

i took the better part of me and put it into the daily grind of you

and made sure that everything that i do was so that I would be rewarded with the better parts of the day- just me and you walking shoulder to shoulder, grinning like we already have inside jokes about each other, and believing that nothing could be better than the concept of us.

i am going to go on a limp and say that our favourite word is “better”, because I’d used it more times after you went on a rant about your ex-girlfriend and her many seemingly altruistic qualities. She’s good, you mentioned with a tinge of annoyance, but I am better.

We are better, I cried that night. WE are better, and never compare me to a good person, because being good should have nothing to do with you liking me. I will always be just your person. No adjectives needed.

I am better for you, I can feel it like I was born with a seventh sense. Your fingers fit right into the awkward nooks between mine, and when I breath into the back of your neck your toes curled up into blissful sighs, I told myself it will always stay this way.

Sleepless

i see you everywhere
and when you/not you
took me/not me in the mouth
i cried until i come

Perpetual Excess: Insomnia

sometimes when i missed you a bunch
and started to fantasized about
what could be and
not
i look into the pool of Seeing
and try to grasp onto
the smell of you
musty and sweet
like raspberries too ripe
during the rare heat of
days

i try to picture sitting on top
staring down into your greenish brown
soul
i never knew someone so alive was
knocking against my door
but i wasn’t home

i was never home
but i wish i wanted to
sometimes when the world spins too mad
and the nights get too
quiet
i go back to that day
where the grass was too green
and the air too sickly hot
where we laid down like Pieces fishes
calmed by the slow breathing
of our union
the kind that ends worlds
and kills
dreams

i was never home
i wish i wanted to

Bad night

A shade lighter in the distance sky

I saw the night pulling off its blanket 

And squinting at the far off light 

not yet here

It shut the blinds with my hands

and went back to sleep.

Roshi

Kindness should be

until 

a hungry monk 

met eyes with a curvy 

eyelashed smile 

on Mt Baldy

many moments 

hips swaying like shaking her head

before was a bowing no

after still

no

24/365

Sleep is for the little one

who has his heart inside a safe

who took no heed to the shuffling noises

downstairs

who shut his eyes tight to drive

away thoughts of her ass

and the way she sways 

when he moves it on his lap

Ahh-

Sleep is for no man tonight. 

23/365: long live love

love was bounded by wind so
i walked with hands that day
walked with hands on glass
polished clean and silky
i could even see myself
though
i didn’t slip
phew-
that was good day
twas good day

love lost in blue coffee powder
me adds seawater into the packet
she says it was a gift
from Malcolm-
i liked Mal he speaks
like the inside of a
conch shell-
she’s crying blue tears now
i am glad
i no like Mal anymore
but doesn’t mean she can

love wins in war between men
i leaned by the bridge men
nearly destroyed
it was the bridge
between the house of Hot Sauce
and the apartments
of Tomato Juice
they fight like they never had
because they are not women
women love like daffodils in cream;
men only knew how to love
when we showed them how to make
Bloody Mary-
men, bloody idiots

love mocks my baking skills today
i made a cake for Mal
i lied
i still like him
he smells like the inside of a
hotel lobby
bad bad bad for you
prolly just empty dust and
poor air-conditioning
but
Mal was Mal was Mal was
mine
is mine
where was i?
yes i made a lemon cake
but he was allergic to it
love is funny that way

love is lust at this moment
it quickens my taste in people other
than Mal
People Other Than Mal
want to dance with me
so i did
and they fell into the traintracks
for me
and they cut blood
and cry blood
and spit blood
for me
and all i can think about was
Not Mal
Not Love
Not People Other Than Mal
Not she
Not anything else

twas good day

22/365

Tomorrow I’ll be
on the other side
of the looking glass;
I wouldn’t have to
stare too long,
simmering in my
envy this time
Instead,
I will look back
at the room
that has cradled me
through
changing tides
and growing
jungles,
where I used to
stare too deep into
the river
and fall in too many times
because I wonder;
Let me be,
let me lament-
tomorrow I will be
on the other side,
and maybe I’ll find yet another
fancier looking glass
waiting for me to
ponder on-
or maybe
I’ll be able
to break the cycle.