July 2, 2018

Water Metaphor: A Love Poem


The river at its source
a small stream, one that is rapid and raging violent.
The Rocks near a river at its source - Jagged and sharp. Rocks spitting out from the center
of the earth. Rocks newly formed from the heat of the Interior rocks sediments shifted and thrown up as mountains all Jagged sharp edges.

The river is not always a mountain stream flowing with ferocity.
 Gravity pulls the river closer to the Center of the Earth the river water finds level.
The river water find its course.
And in that course he creates his own channel digs out the Rock and the soil.
 River became a thing in itself self-one that is itself affected and not one that crushes that around it it becomes its own being. The river has a name. The river has character River has soul.

And the rocks as you stand by its shore looking across its dark depths uncertain about how deep the river is not knowing if you could walk not wanting to take a chance and put your feet in this River. Stones line the shore.

And these stones that line the shore within the reeds within the mud from Where the River Ebbs and flows with the seasons.
The stones are flat round.
The stones have the sharp edges broken off.
The stones are worn and smooth.
Broad River and its channel – calm waters have more power than that seemingly chaotic Falls. The river clearly it's just a metaphor here for my love for you it is grown and matured and we're still a long way from the Delta.

Skin Suit: A Love Poem


Steel splits a hole clearing the skin on the top of the scalp
the crown of the skull
knife drags down Centerline.
cleaving skin growing old with age down the neck
over the back and down
to the cleft of the buttocks and around front.
dragging the knife up the belly;  peeling flesh from bone from organ.
Piles of new flesh falling to the ground.

Washing the blood from the skin making human leather tanning the hide.
What is now no longer me - a skin suit of me.  

It is a skin suit of me one that you can wear and that you do wear.
In your dark moments when you're alone you slide me on.
 You slide me on you look in the mirror and you say,
“Look at me I'm Edgar”.

and no other way is it possible to have melded together in such a way.
Dancing inside of me I have become just a skin suit that envelops you.
But in such a way the skin suit grows into your skin becoming your new skin.
Skin that you cannot take off that is us forever.

April 14, 2018

Learning War

I was in third grade
My dad was in Kuwait
I learned war on CNN
Green lights over
An unfamiliar skyline
Minerates in outline
Wolf Blitzer telling us
Not to worry
It looked like a video game
In May, he came home
But we weren't done
25 years, and new minarets
Outlined in green

February 15, 2018

A Story Often Told: A Love Poem



 A shrewd man invented chess
The king of the realm was so pleased
He took the inventor aside
Told him could ask for his own reward.

And the inventor of chess
Being a clever man
 Asks for one simple thing.

As his reward, the inventor ask for
A single grain of rice
To be placed on the first square.
Then on the next square he wanted that to be doubled.
And then doubled again on the next
And so on.
By the last row the mountains of rice are taller and taller.
Everestine piles of rice. Numbers beyond
Comprehension.

Now this story of the shrewd inventor is often told
To show the powers of exponential increase
Something our linear minds have trouble with.

But here, it stands as metaphor,
Repurposed to show my ever growing love
For you.

Where are we on the chessboard though?
It feels just like the beginning.