Missing Us

I wandered the empty parks, normally filled

with joyous shouts and laughter seemingly

now just lines that seem upon paper-tick marks.

I visited the favorite shop for where ice

cream we did stop in Woodbury at The Mood,

now seems it has latched on to me and

shattered my joy, spoiling even the

taste of the smallest bite of food.

I sought refuge in Breezy Point, where I hiked

to its Tip, wondered would you weep if upon its

edge my foot did slip.

Fire Island as on a beach you lay back with

your hair spread like angels wings upon the

noon day sand. My fingers traced the curve

of your face, now seeing nothing more than

hints of your beauty, vague images –

I hurriedly quit this place.

To the Sunken Forest I flee now shattered heart

perhaps in a mire I might bury your memory and

myself too, even the quicksand tells me with the

burden of my misery – I will not have any of you.

Where to turn, in the alleys of West Babylon

I sought out fights, my visage must be terrible

as even the thugs made excuse to be out of

my sight.

This to receive as near as I must a punishment

for my slight of you.

Would not the oceans depths claim me as a

a permanent friend, would not your love slice

through the ribbons of my self-induced chagrin.

Perhaps back to Fire Island and its lighthouse,

stoic and tall perhaps a favorite of lovers who

seek darkness with some light, as upon my chest

you snuggled and giggled from earthly delights.

Hear a click of the lock then another and

another if my imagination holds true,

scrambling towards the top as the mighty light

turns unlocking the window and upon the round

I do stand, as before me lay sand embraced by

water so cold and deep – during day so peaceful

and blue, now, like the love in my heart lacking –

filled with holes like worm infested wood.

Perhaps you misunderstood my joy of a

chanced meeting with a newly found – thought

lost friend or perhaps the distance does, at

least for the time, lay claim upon two souls.

I see a dark abyss where once a beautiful light

shown – your face i see captured beauty,

your eyes a radiant goodness burning as pure

as the sun,

your lips beckon to meld and for that moment be

as one,

your hair as throw or roof that accepts my face

or covers us both with its beauty,

your ears that accepted my nibbles, pleas

of love, and were able to hear and to comfort

my doubts,

your hands found the best I could offer, while I

caressed and kissed yours,

your love that I valued and depended upon for

strength, for steadfast support that was strong

for your heart when it weakened,

your resolve as you stood by me before as we

sought to make a difference in our crumbling world,

your power to heal my heart when it was broken,

or massage it to health when it faltered from sorrow.

Perhaps all that is needed as the powerful divide

of the light plunged me into darkness – a quick step,

hold my breath as the embrace of sand brings forth

my last sleep.


Song of Sand; Song of Water

Courtesy of Play Comments

Courtesy of Play Comments

The desert is a friend while you are here and I am its champion.
While you are away it is nothing more than an empty shell keeping its secrets, harsh and unforgiving.
The ocean and sound are nothing more than two deep wounds that desire healing.
They cause the sky to weep in misery and its tears touch the waters and kiss sweetly the desert floor.
Had I not lived in both worlds I would not know this thing.
I have stood at both places and heard the mournful call of empty dreams being washed away.
Perhaps a champion will once again arise from the ashes of despair and become a champion of both.
 We shall see.
SongofWaterCourtesy of Play Comments


life marks us all.

life demands all but asks for nothing.

life finds our glaring weaknesses and brings out our most hidden strengths;

life challenges us by the minute, tasks us on the hour, and grants us little or no reprieve by the day.

life gives us our own reasons for declaring we are here and staying, not for the moment to rise, burn brightly, then drop as rapidly back to earth as falling magma or volcanic rock, disappearing forever into Earth’s embrace.

life decides not that it is the way of we, a people, who have long entertained and pondered the eternal heavens;

life ordained that we were not granted the insight or mental abilities to say yes to the first word as we understand and thus consider done our march toward the eternal search for truth.

life provides – i see answers; yes. but they are not mine to accept as being one true way, but rather a series of truths to be constructed together, pondered, debated; then accepted.

life determines that it consists of knowledge, passion, curiosity, steadfastness, singleness of purpose, love, humor, wants, fear, anger, dread, peace, tact;

the list might continue unabated.

Just For A Summer Moment


Rushing about, duties multiplied, not one
could help me upon my present task, help
not coming, one need not ask.

Bleak skies give way to waters fury, as
wind tears at my clothing.

Against my ears I hear the buffeting of
wind, head down – avoiding injury.

I round a corner and I see you, adorned
in blue, beautiful – the color of sky or
its reflection from the waters of a
hidden lake.

I see flowers framed against blue,
your soft skin glows with an
iridescence, radiant, hair dark and
framing your face as it would live
upon an artists canvas.

Just as the painter placed beauty with
brush upon his miracle creation; so you
exist from your parents.

Your very movement is frozen, as time
must pass for its duty is set, day is
your ally sweet flower.

The wind suddenly has ceased, in my
mind, my heart, my body strains not as
though in an isolated dream my art
gallery visit led me to your beauty.

You gaze at me in your stillness,
beauty living, as though i found a
secret alcove, exposed to the viewer
for the first time. Can you be mine?

Is “we” perhaps in our future?

My heart is yours – if you bless me
as your chosen.

Modest Beauty

Low slung shoes were dark
brown with the sides open
towards their heels, her pale
skin complimented the brown
covering the rest of her body.

Practical heels were topped
with bows at the toe, and her
foot cleavage was delicately
peeking from beneath
cinnamon colored hose.

She was adorned in a lovely
violet print dress of white, pink,
blue, and yellow flowers. Her
rich black hair was full, thick,
trimmed and prim.

She was in line ahead of me
and I longed for a picture of
her to add to the mental image
that I even now hold dear.

I don’t recall seeing her face
Modest Beauty, a cart ahead
of me. I wondered as she
seemed to shift slightly on
low delicate heels, if she
kicked them off, upon her safe
return home.

I wondered if young hands
with eyes filled with love
reached for Mom – as a
spent and grateful sitter
cashes out for the week.

Perhaps suspicious eyes
keeping past displays in
check, hug Mom, then
quickly volunteer to help
unload, gather and put
away the purchases – from
a by now, equally suspicious

Ah, here it comes;

before asking to go to the
latest released movie with
friends for the evening.

A grateful Mom, of course,
down time – Mom time, get
it while you can. Yes. Have
fun, I know where you are at
all times – okay. MoM. Good.

Perhaps you work indoors for
a very professional group, or
were you seeking work – dressing
to keep your interview in the mind
of the management.

I know not for them, but you
have cemented your impression
Modest Beauty upon my heart.

Captured Beauty: Scars

Captured Beauty: Scars

Since that moment, I have sought you
throughout the city, it was nothing
you said or did as a person – no pity.

Yours was a curious balance of
tender beauty and gentle resolve,
like life you seem to have this
puzzle solved.

The quiet presence who filled the
room with goodness overflowing,
paused not in what you were doing
as my fascination for you was growing.

Soft brown eyes did played under amber
hues, took me by surprise as
did the scar that appeared with the
shift of your shirt; my evening was
starting on a low note just as a jazz
musician draws out the blues.

Dark reminder of a recent battle for
another day endeavors to exist in
this life, I wondered on the fight that
you chose not to ignore, if like the
musician whose notes seem like
organized strife.

Opinion mattered not as this lovely
adventure showed, was life worth the
effort, the fear, the pain; sweet
darling – on choice would you take
survivals journey again.

Was it to repair a childhood anomaly
as doctors said sagely you will grow
out of it, or was it love – which
anchors itself upon, within, even
throughout the heart; is there a
remedy for this of which the mind
and body plays well their part.

Was it a riddle that blooms with
time, as sordid and dangerous as
bad meter and rhyme.

Perhaps what worked for me will work
for you too; taking long as
love worked its way throughout my
very being making me perpetually blue.

I captured love and placed it in a
golden cask, it wasn’t easy, perhaps
looking back it was a monumental

Stealing to a lower deck, I released
the box into the swirling waters below,
for dramas sake or even for show;
my own heart I must protect that’s all
I know.

But mystery beauty, have you too been
stolen from me, will I say the right
things, should we meet again?