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POEMS

 

Morning: from Black and White to Color

Morning came up slowly like the tide.
The warmth and slow breathing, comfortable and natural
The innocent and fresh smell of sleep
The magical, loving caress of honest feeling
The shapes, varying shades of gray in night’s fleeting disguise,
Become animated with the tactile input that sparks desire.
The intensity grows and spreads until it finally floodsand suddenly night has 
turned the color of morning
The vagaries are defined, the missions delivered, as morning gives birth 
and the body becomes two.


Dog Shit

Thoughts elsewhere, you stride along
The dew, the tools, the freshness of the day
The Job, the Responsibility, the Preoccupation; All is ruined.
The dog shit, camouflaged and encrusted in a cold, ballistic casing
rebels at the coreand reeks its poisonous magma
over your benign and uncaring tennies


To The Bee

To the bee, the beauty is in the flower; the erotic display of nature,the intoxicating color of petals,
the romance of the fragrance.
The courtship, the challenge, the discovery.

The pollen alone is bittersweet


From February, 1992, Fort Lauderdale Night
Storm on the City

The lightening, like a midnight strobe, pulses intermittently, spreading an omnipresent burst across the sky
The luminescent raindrops form a palpable haze as the city twitches like a centipede in a frying pan


Success

We rehash the party, find the negatives for copies, polish the trophy, swagger with a beer,
and resign in the neutral comfort of
savoring the residue of success


Relinquish

Once in a while, even in one’s own domain, it is necessary to rescind
the burdensome pleasure of self-appointed leadership
and allow the Visitor to carry the reigns.

Have faith,though the cargo may spill, his intentions are honest and humanand not to be feared


Horizons

Just when you think you’ve reached the plateau,a new frontier stretches ahead.
It is your choice:
Will you be Sisyphus or Can you be Columbus?


Subtlety

With Subtlety, it is hard to know who has won


The Surface

The surface is easier and sometimes all you can see


Depths

From the deepest depths, you see the bottom most clearly


The Warriors

The melancholy aftermath of combat leaves a fleeting glowof acceptance of reality
The elite with standards high will engage only if the match meets their mettle
The recognition, the simultaneous and mutual admiration of the opponents tacticsand defense lays down their arms.
Theirs is the lustful combat of well equipped yet disparate soldiers.
Grace and redemption stretch and support the comfort and acknowledgment of these equally high standards and skills.
Naked and proud, each reveals its best defense
The fluidity of motion and the comfort of exhaustive work.
Their combat is passionate and incredible.
The warriors are the same, only different, and therefore, their engagement is ephemeral though bright with passion.
There is no resolution—just a stand off.
The game is perfected, the game is over, and they must part.
Their destinies are different.


Out Of Little Africa

We walked swiftly pushed by the hot breath of death and intimidation.
The adventure, the foolish stubbornness of integrity and “Right”,
as well as the thrill of adrenalin pulled,
saying it was alright to by beer in the ghetto.

As the humid, watty, dirty night pressed on.


Be my Valentine 2001

That only I know and that only you know,
this is the source of trust

Experiences shared,
this is the creation of memories

Steps taken together,
this is the source of wisdom

Sounds that only I make…
this is the source of your insomnia

Words that only we know,
this is the dialog of intimacy

Touches that only we feel,
this is the sense of love

Thoughts that we share,
this is the sense of intelligence

Being together with you,
this is the source of my happiness


To Mom and Dad
40th Anniversary

July 5th, 2005 (held at Chantilly Restaurant 7/9)

East is east and west is west and never the Twain shall meet.
I have the good fortune of being the case in point for this not being true.

My intrepid parents set out on a new frontier to craft their own lives, against the odds and against convention.
They went across the Pacific Ocean and have been through even more miles of cultural and family barriers.

They’ve overcome fears and challenges and have chosen not to dwell but to flourish and enjoy
And like the beautiful birds such as the loon and the Canada goose, they chose to mate for life.
The nest that is their union in marriage has always been a remarkable example of nuturing, caring, and support for one another that continues every day of their life.

And what a life they lead--they truly live with passion and gusto
from the smallest details such as eating the daily breakfast
to the grandest adventure like cruising around the world.

As they live their lives and touch new people—they infect others
with their excitement by making the people they meet feel
important, special, and touched by their glow of life.
I know you all feel this glow that they’ve created.
I know I do.
In fact, if they weren’t my parents, I’d want them to be my friends!

Mom and Dad-thank you for going against the odds, choosing each other, and for building your lives together.
Your marriage is a wonderful example for us to follow.
You live with brightness, hope, and enjoyment, and I thank you for sharing it so generously with us.

Love, Son