Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XX of XX

Untitled

the web of uncertainty masks the fear

of a mother daughter reuniting

and affirms the faith,

compromising...

postponing...

sheltered, we stand naked

trembling, we turn towards each other,

alone...

separated...

desperately, our moments trace out the

overlays of our disparity

and we are honored

as our thoughts are burned

and immortality escapes our will,

restfully...

peacefully...

nestled quietly in the dim lit

alleys of our sacred cities,

monuments stand erect

alone as we are but

not as desperate as we became.

January 22, 1984

Untitled

within the gently flowing span of an evening

times rests quietly on the couch as we

share the moments that keep us apart

and contain the longing and the

passion that slips past us like the

wine whose spirit is set free

as each glass is poured;

within the context of mortality,

we tremble and melt into each other's

arms and briefly hold back reality

as we caress the softness of youth

and recapture the source of our

energy whose bottled potential

is conveyed by prescription only;

with the silent sounds, we musically

dance away our fears whose spirit is just

as limitless as our freedoms are short lived

and our movement are stilled by the

body heat that burns within our bodies

like smoke rising in a room forcing us

to fall victim to the fires of our desires.

March 12, 1984

Untitled

inside the ramblings of lover's arguments

words abusively penetrate the sanctity

of compassion and fill the void between

emptiness and loneliness that rests in

fragile levels between loyalty and disrespect;

continuing the absurd patterns our lives

have taken to explore the depths of hatefulness,

are the vicious cycles of what we wearily

consider a relationship should admire and

yearn to abandon the regrets not tolerated.

March 12, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XIX of XX

If Only Briefly
keeping each other's secrets sheltered and protected
tears remind us of our weaknesses and unafraid,
we parade our splendor as if our youth was present;
free to choose, we remain a prisoner of our longing,
sharing what little passion we'd allow to escape
unmolested into the back roads of our fantasies;
"just hold me," we say when our love needs
reassurance and our embrace gently nudges us into
silent acceptance that once surrendered makes us one;
avoiding when overwhelmed, our roads have always
crossed returning us to that point of origin still feared,
whose power numbs and hurts as we adjust to its magnetism;
our sensitive courage affected by troubled souls helplessly
bound like us, cries out to be released to a guiltless
existence where reality is measured in moments of
patience and like Gypsy Moths we find solitude in
our special feelings where our tears of love glance into
the fantasy our souls enjoyed...  if only briefly.

December 3, 1984

Untitled

my feelings are stripped away

like the bark of an old tree,

whose purpose has been outlived

and must cast declining shadows

as the young grow from its decay;

twisting and turning, we all distort

our branches as we reach forth

to form silent partnerships with those

who understand our solitude yet

the excuses we make fall to the

ground as do the leaves when the

season announce their mortality,

and we forgive the traveler whose

journey through our forest creates

that paths that we must follow and

the leaves that cushion our steps

hide the tree bark that fell to the

ground all those many years before;

nature captures its survivors in

graceful symmetry and we are

sheltered by its soft sounds and colors;

our minds like the hollow of a tree

hold our memories and the winds

rustle through our thoughts as they

gently erase our pain and attempt

to refresh our lonely weariness, and

our guilt is stripped away like the

bark from some old tree whose

usefulness is a welcomed reminder

that our paths provide routes without

mazes which at times we are unable

to see and together we clear away

the rest of the fallen trees ahead.

February 20, 1984

Untitled

as we unravel the delicate fabric

from around our shoulders, we

can no longer shelter the sensitivity

that our touch commands nor can

we control the sensations that our

passion evokes, yet we suspend

willingly, our fears that gently

revolve inside the dream like

world that we have created;

imposing on each other all those

cares that we recklessly toss aside,

we reaffirm those changes that were

so easily abandoned so long ago.

March 8, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XVIII of XX

And If We Care

amid the pains of caring

for something we can

possess but not have,

we absorb the comments

that distort who we are

and what we want yet

still want to experience;

is the time spent apart magnetizing

our feelings and pulling us protectively

closer as we miss and long to be together?

sharing discreet moments with

limited touching, our passion grows

while being suppressed and the

desire burns with us like some

hot sultry summer evening;

wasting our restlessness on a

back porch fancy that calms

once we are together and carefully

suspends our fears as we embrace

and gently surrender to our love

before we can say goodbye.

February 6, 1984

Untitled

trapped within the truth of feelings

our touch releases all secrets

once protected by mental shelters

and the fear of uncontrollable desires,

that were unmistakably shared and

now long to be with constantly;

we who are our parent's pride

must put aside our differences

with soft lingering kisses that

deeply probe past the barriers of

sincerity and security as we breathe

in the perfumes of our heated passions

and postpone the inevitable that is

outlined in the shadows of our eyes;

eyes that strip away the layers

deadening the the open endings

imprisoned inside tides of tenderness

and bathed in moments neither understands

January 30, 1984

Second Glance

because we allowed ourselves to

accept each other's weakness and

restrict each other's potential,

our understanding privately betrayed

what we publicly accepted with our

only realistic reminders being that

we will always be each other's love.

March 27, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XVII of XX

Untitled
as we suffer in the realities
of the decisions made for us
like some ancient ritual still
encased in the pyramid bowels
whose spirit reaches beyond
imagination and withdrawal
of the senses occurs in
syncopated rhythms as
pond ripples gentle reflect
the calmness of afternoon walks...
and coffee...
and embraces that brought us
close to the essence of pure emotions
and the belief that we must soon
follow the luck of the Irish
whose faceless grin announced
our compassion...
our resolution...
and our willingness to surrender
ourselves to our inner secrets
and inadvertently fall in love.

April 4, 1984

Untitled

in between reality and fantasy we

cling to our possessed wills and see

the darkness of each other's souls;

in between the question's answer

and openness and casual expression

we attempt to provide protection;

in between nights of lost and restless sleep

we carefully trace the time spent together

and why we let the evening's end;

in between walking at my pace and

allowing an obscure distance to occur,

we allow torment and confusion to hide

the uncomplicated life we tried to lead.

January 30, 1984

Untitled

cloaked in a night veil of secrecy

balance by rituals of risk and loneliness

predetermined by guilt

fatalistic and cautious

unhampered by conventions or their denial,

I locked myself in a cocoon of creativity

proclaimed self-indulgence

cut the lifeline of sharing and being shared

floated aimlessly and

only tangent to life and its purpose,

I became foreign in my native land

and was forgiven yet my thoughts remained

hidden away like some closeted homosexual

and my tears released my passion

repossessing my insecurities and

my feeble ability to reach out.

January 30, 1984

Untitled

one by one I lay my burden

upon your back as it begins 

steadily arching upward,

your blood flows through my veins,

the sweat from my body fall like 

teardrops on your womanhood...  

we are one, complete;

gentle fingers quietly trace the 

outline of your body and eyes 

gaze into each other's reflection as

time momentarily stops and

we explore limitations, 

define boundaries and 

experience the mysticism that 

seems to be pulling us together... 

slowly revolving around lips that 

explore each other's softness

while eyes penetrate...  

melt...  and absorb;

hands render sensations through

the fabric of our souls...  

intertwined, yet separate we

maintain the brevity of the moment...

postponed...  

embrace...   

and fade away our

bodies retain the vibrations

of trembling hearts and we 

long for the subtle caresses 

that stole our securities and

protected our togetherness.

February 1, 1984

Midnight Minus Thirty-Five

a dark stillness lays on the ground
and as far upwards as one can see;
it is difficult to know just how far
up one can see with no bearings;
a yellow cat sits with me outside
on our screened in porch looking
out into the darkness as well as he
sees what I cannot and our ears
perk up a little as we hear the
distinct sound of rain hitting the
leaves as it falls through our dark
surroundings on its way down;
it lasts but a moment but just long
enough to increase the humidity
of the dark night as the gauge on
the post still registers eighty and
I wonder just how inaccurate it
has become in its old age or it
might just be wishful thinking;

light from a street lamp darts off
in four directions like a cross and
and three perfect circles of softer
light surround the center one as
I adjust my eyes thinking they
may be more tired than my body;
Hercules cannot enter my night's
mythology since Thor and Odin
rescued me first from my bed,
slipping a dream into my head
that only the two of them can
change the course of my thoughts;
our youngest yellow cat is somewhat
of a bully around the other two,
especially if he does not get his way,
still, he does not want to be left
alone at times which is why he has
decided to join me out here even
though his time is spent sleeping;
sitting outside at any time of the day
is a luxury seldom afforded me but
when I find myself outside with
just my thoughts, I tend to write
something down on paper, not
knowing if it will be read or not
and not knowing if it is liked,
yet write away I do as motivated
by the dark rain and the dark sky.

May 27, 2020

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XVI of XX

Untitled
seldom do we notice nor
seldom do we care
what life whispers and
what seasons command the
inexperienced to challenge
the disappearing friendship
that reaching our provides...
and...  as the mist falls apparent
on our sacred feelings and we
turn our neighborly backs away,
who shall we call upon
to rebuild the wall of trust
that now obstructs our path?
awkwardly, we attempt to
control the harness
placed upon our obscure feelings
that question our thoroughness
to guide life's brevity and
foolishly replace pride with
vanity as we misinterpret
a new aggressive code of ethics
whose assertive balance
is now embedded in the roads
on which we travel;
in time our turn is forfeited
and our tears scar the
soil of humanity, and we toy
with our insecurities and
toss salt leftward,
avoid black cats and return
the ladders of growth to our garages;
why are we so helpless
that we cannot allow
our accomplishments to
include the caring of others?
April 11, 1984

In Closing

I

from our ashes we rise external and

surrender into the complete knowledge

that brought us both to accept the

love that fate will soon separate.

II

as we long to recapture

the moments of what we

might have done...

could have done...

or should have done...

may we spare ourselves

the agony of regret and remember

only the splendor and the feelings

of what we were able to give.

III

convince me not we should have cared

and I will not convey the loneliness

that you reluctantly replaced.

IV

as I try to sleep and

think not of what must be,

tears flow freely and moisten

the cheek that caressed

just this afternoon as your

lips tasted my sensitivities.

April 9, 1984

Forever Is Not Too Long
naked... we lie together
our bodies tightly knit
weaving a solemn promise
as we unite in understanding and
disrobe our conscious desires
that tenderly gave us the
courage to say goodbye;
embracing...  our bodies overlap
our arms press tightly while
hands gently explore all the
fleeting moments...  and,
quivering kisses extend our senses
beyond our control and what
we have imagined before;
imprisoned...  heightened sensuality
slowly removes protective
garments as shielded softness
seals our determinations like the
heated iron of a blacksmith;
joined expectations restrict the
freedoms that so easily is
taken for granted...  and,
in the empty space between
emotions and reality, we
release the frustrations that our
love has provide and the
months that we have shared.

April 9, 1984

Untitled

as we gracefully ebb our way

through life's misfortunes, the

scars of battle form the ageless

wrinkles on our innocent brow;

as we crisscross our way around

life's continuum , our ostrich like

countenance protects us from the

losers and the winners proclaim

their loss of any new sacrifice;

as we pretend not to notice those

who are less fortunate or those

who wear not their scars well,

we are allowed to redeem ourselves

and revel in the joys of humility;

as we self-proclaim and self-indulge

our narcissism frees us from

petty jealousies and the adulation

of the winner's circle and how

often must we yield our crown

the following year to the new victor.

March 26, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XV of XX

Untitled

together we can forever

dreams and slip past

that part of our lives

where saying goodbye

doesn't mean an end to 

the youthful countenance

we gave each other.

April 12, 1984

Untitled

in a disorganized society we
foolheartedly arrange our
priorities to include the
pretense of order and the
logical sequence of similarity
that is as unattainable as
the silence we seek
while in a restless sleep.

April 12, 1984

Untitled

if we journey past our destination

finding ourselves out-of-sync...

temporarily displaced in time...

and space occupies just a little more

than a simple handful of memories,

can we choose our ills

before the cures are determined

and before our change of address

is announced and before all that

we own is forwarded to a mailbox

that bears not our correct name?

April 12, 1984

Untitled

sometimes when our routines
are disturbed by misfortunes,
and our friends suffer needlessly,
our compassion is overwhelmed
beyond its coping capacity,
we hide our feelings in a closet
of friendships that allow us to
absorb emotions and maintain
a disguise of strength as we
float purposefully from one
encounter to another, never
willing to escape or postpone
the erratic sensations which
caring bestows upon us
simply yet graciously.

April 12, 1984

A Memorial Day THANK YOU...

Life Poetry

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XIV of XX

The Big House
we gave each other love
you teaching me how to love
I you how to make love;
we both consumed ourselves
in each other's passion and
experienced the fragile
nature of our feelings;
our desires, like wet clothes,
clung to us and our lips
skillfully controlled our sensuality,
our bodies harmonized
pressing firmly together,
allowing us to feel
each other's excitement
and spasms like two
tormented lovers released
from their abstinence;
fingers burned yesterday's
memories into the thin
membranes of our rewoven souls;
opened pores breathed in,

filling our stained lungs
with the stamina to continue;
mentally we gave ourselves
totally knowing in absolute terms
what we thought we wanted,
saying the completed sentence
in silent gestures, realizing that
our eyes already knew the truth.

May 3, 1984

For A Long Time

casually we exist in each other's shadows

imbued with a soft understanding

a quiet elegance of memories

carved into our souls forever;

we reflect an external salvation

the illusive palette of our lives filled

with colors, mixed and rearranged,

forming endless patterns and sensations

in our bodies that demonstrated our longing

on the canvas that we had no where to hang;

and...  as we moved into different spaces

and confronted ourselves with new experiences

we cried out for the loss of the past

etched long ago in the seagull skies above

our passion as if it were some sympathetic

reminder that our love will last a long time.

April 23, 1984

Untitled
costumed lovers dressed in moonlight
silhouetted reflections against the
pale crystalline pond of desire,
together yet separate
fatalistic yet complete
stunned by the magnitude of feelings contrary
to their own behaviors,
are joined as one and are centered
in their own frustrations;
careful and deliberate they bathe in
each other's heated passion and undulating movements
as their own rhythms carelessly move like
ocean tides across their bodies;
moist tongues explore their passionate recesses
leaving trails that glisten in the dim light of the evening
and allow the tingling sensations to bond
their two slim bodies together;
gently, these blind lovers, robbed of their limitations,
manifest their sensuality in their hands where
delicate caresses quietly soften the eroticism
flowing through their veins and fully accept the
aphrodisiac satisfaction that has momentarily intertwined
their bodies, their love, and life's pleasant encounters.

April 19, 1984

Untitled

outwardly we suffer internally

and sharing not our silence, we

sparingly conserve our affections

and the monotonous sequences

of futility our lives have taken;

our protectors...  life's survivors

dictate the commands that draws

taut the  marionette strings of our

futuristic and futile existence.

April 18, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XIII of XX

In Lieu of...

our hearts beat in out-of-time rhythm

as we lay side-by-side on the floor;

our bodies tingle with quiet vibrations

as we try to hold back our recklessness;

muffled gasps of excitement escape

between parted lips and we turn away

in mutual fear of our reminded fantasies;

vainly we steal quick glances

at our partner's unclothed desires

and realize our own buried passion,

when released, burns our brand inside

our private moments that were once

carefully wrapped by the unseen

strength of our dreams, and as we

melt together, we unite ourselves in

the spirit of each other's love...

May 14, 1984

Untitled

carelessly we shelter our thoughts
protective and secure as we hold onto
them like loose change in our pockets;
recklessly, we abandon despair and
reach out for the warmth of the sun
and the memory of our tomorrows.

May 23, 1984

\All Treasures are not Found

little-by-little we remove the worn

exteriors of our independence,

announcing yesterday's feelings as

newly released passion lyrically

narrows the distance, pulling our

essence into a delicate balance;

willingly, we reluctantly surrender,

yet, everyday we long for the desires

burnt upon our breasts while bravely

we trust in our own futile future.

May 11, 1984

Inconvenient Lovers
quietly we presuppose
our love allows the future
to command our wills
and remain on call
while we develop
our own lives
apart and separate,
set in motion
by latent differences,
we brought frustrations
into rediscovering
how to miss
the reality of fantasies
and to belong
to the partnership of risks
that planned encounters
and rearranged
our complacent lives.

May 14, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XII of XX

Untitled
amid the calm exterior of
silence we must occasionally
leave room for our sojourn
apart from reality and
attempt to live in the
abstractions of dreams.

June 9, 1084

To Soar on the Wings of Seagulls

we proclaim each other's love

disrupt each other's lives

restructure each other's morality and

occasionally we lose control

unaware that our comments

regretfully resolve our dilemma;

yet, tears announce our inability

to accept the sincerity that

something good must come from this,

that in some way we must transfer

all that we have shared or stored for later;

predetermined we prepare ourselves for

when we must give to others the

same completeness we learned together,

knowing that walks in the park

can only temporarily postpone our fate

and while in exile, isolate our loneliness

but not our wills, nor our love

which shall permit us, one day, to

soar as one on the wings of seagulls.

May 30, 1984

Untitled
Frowns replace smiles and our
compassion make us vulnerable,
exposed to the secrets that rose
freely through our senses, keeping
us reminded of the wall that
took us four years to tear down;
we cry inside as others laugh
for a makeshift sequence of events
and the rationale to continue;
our seeds implanted long ago in
the soil of our inescapable desires
fertilized by our tears, harvested our
longing giving the earth a chance
to reclaim its romance and us a
chance to put our fears to rest.

May 26, 1984

Untitled

emptiness fills the hollow of my body

and my nostrils catch the overflow

of tears and my weakness stems from

our involvement and the courage

we gave to hold onto our inner strength

as escaped emotions remained trapped

within the endless memories we have

for each other and my shoulders can

no longer carry the burden that leaving

has cast towards us and my lips taste

your tears as they touch your eyes.

May 23, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series XI of XX

A Very Special Love

we have developed a closeness

that solves our similarities

and compromises our neglect,

we photographed our desires

hanging them with other thoughts

in the quiet solitude of memories,

we gentle lift our spirits

when our reassurance questions

the boundaries we have set;

softly spoken we caress in words

what lovers do in darkness,

we put ourselves where we shouldn't be

and feel each other's pain as we

justify our regrets because our love

is special and bonds us together;

we share that unique quality

that permits us to be in love

as we love others who love us back

and we allow only that

which is positive to be a part

of us apart so that we might

keep the best of us together.

June 19, 1984

Untitled

drifting through life is clever disguises
we paint new faces, lyrically composing
the one ones in lines without music,
while our helplessness is momentarily
postponed and a purposeful glance
woefully pressures us into submission.

June 14, 1984

Untitled
we seldom see ourselves as attractive
yet we attract comparative glances
finding approval in their smiles and
accepting their false motives behind
their ritualistic improper advances.

June 10, 1984

Untitled 

the warmth from the sun

heats my shoulders as the

winds mute it direction,

and Willie Nelson distantly sings,

"to all the girls we've loved before;"

the salt smell of the water

the faint cries of seagulls

cautiously blocks our reality

from which we have escaped

and momentarily we substitute

our routines for a haven of

free-spirited weekenders.

June 9, 1984

Poetry Reading

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series X of XX

Untitled
what joys of love shared we
those months that passed quickly by
and adventures past we've seen
what beauty present and age mixed;
think not of what we've been but
what we've taught and how we've grown
into that space where memories lurk
and trumpeters serenade our episodes of
parting friends and substitute "me too's".

July 11, 1984

Lost Familiarity

when we were young and innocent

and freedom was without direction,

our weekly groceries were ten dollars,

our only obligations were to each other,

and our trust consisted of shared albums,

drinking weekend beers, downtown walks,

hand-in-hand and our future owned by no one

went nowhere; yet, we were happy and

life was simple to us as we watch others

make their lives complicated...  our

collection of shells waited by the door,

documenting our search for the perfect

treasure and our selection narrowed as

our focus became of lost passions,

of cold winters that served only to

reunite our lost familiarity and we both

longed for what was no longer there.

July 10, 1984

Untitled
outside my window
the grass grows green and
motor cars, half seen, form
an ever changing canvas of
colors and reflected light;
outside my window
are other buildings with
other windows and people
who wonder why my
window is so special;
outside my window
are endless roads of
imagination and undrawn
cartoons by nameless artists
whose still life's of life
distract only a few;
outside my window
I see myself and my
image wonders why we
look alike and if my sight
affects his point-of-view.

July 2, 1984

Nineteen Eighty-Four Series IX of XX

Those Fleeting Moments
disrobed and anointed, cleansed by the
purification of intentions, we stand
awkwardly facing each other, timid, yet
aroused as we behold our partner's beauty;
eyes transmit the longing, keeping us
motionless for endless minutes until,
like magnets, we are drawn together and
our cool flesh is heated...  pulling us
into a trance-like state of sensations;
our motionless bodies gradually explore
texture and softness while our bonding
heightens every fiber, every nerve ending
of our being as we  convey our pleasure in
reluctant kisses that release buried passion;
we are alive and our touch betrays our
willingness, allowing us to once again show
the love we hide inside like some sacred
treasure whose presence can only be
unveiled temporarily, and we can only
share those fleeting moments sporadically
always exceeding the point of no return.

July 26, 1984

For Those Who Ran Away

bring me home a lonesome traveler

bring me home a weary soul

I've walked my share of endless highways

and slept alone in the cool night air;

for twenty years I've wonder onward

for half my life I've seen the world

my mind's so cluttered with sights unwanted

I wear the truth of nature's scorn;

I know the earth and what she offers

shelter, food, and a wrinkled brow

and still I walk against the wind

and hold no ties and none hold me;

sometimes Lord, you'll hear me whisper

to take my soul and set me free as I

bear no grudges against my captors

I sing my song as I might see the

winds winds of war that last I ran from

have finally reached our and found me.

July 24, 1984

Untitled
jokingly we remarked on our
own sense of helplessness,
proclaim our own independence,
spending most of our time alone
while others occasionally rationalize
their security and venture into
the darkness for their prey and an
evening of isolated forgetfulness;
casually we allow our partners
to add our ship to their collection
as we constantly bail out the
affections that seep out from walls.

July 17, 1984

Untitled

tears slowly leave my eyelids while

my head looks in your direction and

I feel the weight of your body upon me;

your hands frame my face as mine

gently pull through your hair and our

eyes knowingly surrender our souls

and ecstasy shakes us closer as we push

the essence of our feeling together;

soft moans reach inside me, blending

my thoughts into yours and shaping

what little innocence we have left

into a desire that draws out our emotions

like some ancient incantation and we

embrace  involuntarily as if possessed.

July 11, 1984