UNTITLED
released to flee in a cynical world
of forced cooperativeness, a bitter
trail of compromise prevails,
underhanded anger,
misdirected through the familiar
voice of petty differences;
an unstable time,
a time of reflections,
contemplating the justification
the rationale... the purpose...
a symbolic digression untimely
in its purpose like some disease
poisoning a system whose
defenses appear to be ineffective.
September 12, 1985
UNTITLED
freely we share offering
physical reminders to a
more gentle side...
caring and vulnerable;
a makeshift bedroom
rearranges our lives forever
our tears accommodate
a purification of lost innocence
overwhelmingly joined through
a touch of explosive sensations;
distance brings us closer
grasping the moments...
an image...
a memory...
a photo-realistic hologram
of our choices...
our weaknesses...
our compromises...
our painful ecstasy of
wanting to be in love.
September 11, 1985
UNTITLED
a darkness prevails
her evening cloak
a fine laced tapestry
of brief encounters;
an early bird morning
turns out the dog onto
a hazy rain-drenched field;
a quiet interlude
radiates in soft pastel
reds, blues, and yellows,
barely visible romping
and prancing freely on the
shoreline of the horizon.
September 9, 1985
UNTITLED
amidst our daily interlude
we dance in circles
not compromised
not controlled
relentless we pursue,
released... our compromises
fall with the leaves;
unsettling revolutions of
down-like
unregulated passion emit
sympathetic pleasures,
our heads swirl in an
invisible mist of sensations,
our bodies ache to be
sculpted... molded...
transformed into an
unsurpassed willingness;
our touch persuades and
intensifies an inner longing that
erupts our boiling body cauldron,
whispering "I love you,"
feeling more completely
joined than ever before.
September 6, 1985
UNTITLED
if we pretend a carelessness
through which we enforce a
barrier of unanswered affections,
a singed discipline
a prolonged excuse to persuade
too rigid...
not denied...
we presuppose and a surrogate
father disguised as extracurricular
sifts through our time clocks
watching...
hoping for that single, yet,
difficult change of attitude as
we continue to force habits,
interplay...
still longing for a son.
September 4, 1985
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