Categories
poetry

Same sky

I must have learned something last night

perhaps you thought I knew

you always think I know what you will say

and usually I do, but yesterday

you said that perhaps I gave up

a long time ago. The car needs

a wheel alignment like my love.

Straighten me out with kisses

along my back. Imagine an ocean

then dive straight to my bottom

plunge deep,

I will still be there breathing

kissing the stingrays

glowing like clownfish do

dreaming, erasing, writing,

in that state of distraction.

Yet, during the snowstorm

I looked up at the Montreal sky

and thought this is what we share

the same sky

and then I heard it

the chirping in -10

I stopped of course, and searched

each naked branch of ice

as soon as I saw the cardinal

he flew.

He just wants me to know

he’s still watching

and other notes

from the grave

I can read.

Cemeteries too deep in snow

he misses my visits

so he comes

to me.

You’re lucky my mom

says.

How so?

He forgot me.

Never, you know you’re souls are one

from kids

so stop that shit,

just look for it

really look

and then I explain to her

how she once explained to me.

All under the same sky

but

completely

different lives.

Categories
Poems poetry

She woke up

The morning is taking away
all my night powers
my prowls
my inner growls.

Take my tiny hand
squeeze it, pinch me
on this snowy land
make me real
hence, all that I feel
turns inside out
upside down
wrong side up
I’m a fragile box
handle with care
keep the descriptive words
coming
need their existence
like water now.

Chasing me was not so worthy
my gaps are enormous
you should flee
before it is much too late
for bloody undeniable fate
to make us one.

I can not look back
at age and rage
and every single page
I wrote.
I am feeling alive
along the train track
with that song you played
blaring down the grey street
reflecting my weak heart beat
leading me straight to you-
all the darkness
all the light
all the tragic loss
all the epic flights
landing close by your door
to knock on number 605
before sunrise
to see the exact colour of your eyes.
All this means something right now
and that is what matters most
anyhow.
Not asking but telling
(as she wakes up in the middle of the day).

Categories
First novel Poems poetry

Lovers in memory

Some madness
is at our fingertips
the most surprising
inexplicable energy
can only be felt
by lovers
when they first
stare into each other’s
eyes

even then it will be foggy
unclear to most
until years later
when the intensity grows
the storms within
rage
the windows rattle.

Time, Place, Memory
explode into darkness
while the sun rises
and the sweetness
of the skin
is what the lovers
recall
and ache
that madness
they took from the shelf
baked it
together.

Love’s phases
lust’s cravings
combined in the pot
stir it up
and take a first bite.

Yet like a film
it is played over
and memory
keeps it rolling.

Categories
Poems poetry

my gift

If I had a way of controlling the morning sun, I would rip it from the sky and place it just above your bed.

Upon opening your eyes, your first sight would be the colour of my love.