A Poem for My Father

heavy as honey
full as an ocean
the waves from your throat
reverberate,
rotating every cell
as they travel through my spine
into my core

thick as rain
smooth as the skin behind your ears
the wisdom from your past
seeps into my present thoughts
lifting the dense fog in my mind

where there was black and grey
in an instant there is clarity
colors combining
now only white exists

as each vulnerability is exposed
my inner self rises higher and higher
until I am no longer in my stiff chair
but flying above the conversation
seeking a place to
re-evaluate
re-examine
re-arrange
my faulty conclusions

Weightless contemplation
is the un-seen side effect
of your tone.

A poem for T.H.

In the darkness,
you reach over to feel
my lips as you toss crunchy,
salty, sweet pieces of your heart
into my mouth.
While the plot is moving forward,
we are nose to nose;
and I'm not making it easy on you.


In the absence,
you trace my life-line with your fingertips,
soft and moist, thick with skin and bone.
I feel younger with each stroke,
like you are removing the heavy years
with every gentle graze,
until I am a virgin Cinderella,
and you my handsome prince,
the hero anxious to kiss my hand.
Though we practice lifts like ballroom dancers
between aisles of greeting cards,
I feel like we are at the finest banquet
experiencing our first taste of movement,
with saffron petticoats reflected in gold trimmed mirrors.


Out of the light,
with only my toes keeping me on earth
and your lips pulling me toward heaven,
I feel a glimpse of eternity
in the wonder
of a first kiss.

"By their fruits ye shall know them"

Part I

The light in me is often hard to see
Not always am I crystal clear.
The disguise is heavy, but I've grown
to cherish its weight in my bones.
When I see the light in you,
and how easily you share its truth,
hope rises and forces the mask to flake
from my skin, like little seeds
sprouting greens through dark soil.
I thought that I woud teach you.
Now I'm the over-confident Senior,
learning from the Freshman how to
open up and let the light into
my core.

Part II

As I kiss the sugar off your lips,
weightlessness envelopes me.
How can I know so little
(and feel even less)
when I'm expected to be the opposite.
I wonder,
what will the fruits
of our friendship taste like?
Sweet?
Bitter?
Most likely, bitter-sweet -
life's favorite flavor.
If only all my future loves
could be as warm as your
southern accent in my ear.