My Other Language

Hey, you're here.
I don't come here often.
Because the poet in me cannot be prodded.
Cannot be cajoled.
Cannot be directed.
Cannot even be bribed.

She stays inert.
Skimming below the surface,
Just observing,
Sensing,
Teasing,
Lurking silently,
Listening stealthily.

And then when she decides to wake up
And show up
And show off,
She just spews out words,
An outpouring of thoughts,
Gut spill, and heart bursts.

Rhyme and reason optional.
Eschewing the usual rational
Being who prefers prose,
The language she understands
With structure she can control.

But poetry-
It's a different animal.
Scary,
Undisciplined,
Raw,
Leaving her vulnerable.
Her insides exposed.
Her masks removed.

And then suddenly,
It just ceases,
Just like that.

Stifling

It doesn't take much
for a memory to resurface
a realization of loss to interrupt a moment
a longing to linger
an ache to assert itself

And in the middle of running to and fro
of idle thinking
or proactive doing

In a moment of solitude
or in the midst of a mob
in the act of living
in the business of breathing

An emotion gurgles
from a visceral place
Surprising
Shocking
Awaking a feeling indescribable

And I stifle a sob
retract a tear
suffocate a sigh
It only takes a moment
It doesn't take much

Grasping

Grasping for miracles

to bring back what is lost

Grasping for answers

to explain the meaning

behind the pain

Grasping for breath

as sobs engulf my lungs

Grasping for a vision

behind the haze of tears

Grasping for God

to hold my hand

as I drown in sorrow

Grasping to to stay afloat

as my body is weighed down

by a heart that feels like a ton of bricks

Grasping for love

and finding it in family and friends

Grasping for hope

Grasping for sleep

Grasping for rest

Grasping for silence

in a mind that never stops making noise

Grasping for noise

when all around is silence

and sadness and emptiness

Grasping for light

in a day made darker by a storm

Grasping her hand

and willing her to come back

Grasping for life

Grasping for control

Grasping for yesterday

for memories dulled by an addled mind

Grasping for joy

Grasping for peace

Grasping for comfort

Grasping for something to numb the pain

Grasping for normalcy

Grasping for strength

not just to stay standing

but to prop others too

Grasping to survive

Breathing

Inhaling

Exhaling

Taking one listless step

after another

Moving just to stop from collapsing

Hoping that someday

I will be more than just

grasping

Do you?

Do you ever feel your chest about to burst

Just out of sheer affection

For that person in front of you

Oblivious

Do you ever want to shout out

This person’s mine

This person chose me

Regardless

Do you ever stop your hand

From just touching to assure yourself

That person’s there

Staying

Do you ever hear your heart groan

Aching for more

Hungry for something

Unfathomable

Do you ever gnash your teeth

Wanting to be more than you can be

Better, prettier, sweeter

Desperately

Do you ever feel regret

That you weren’t always there

To understand the history behind the person

You now see

Do you ever feel your eyes fog up

Just at the thought of losing someone

Who means more than life

To you

Do you ever wonder how long

A lifetime you still have

To spend, to relish

Together

Do you?

Because sometimes,

Often,

Okay, once in a while,

I do

And if you didn’t

It would be just so sad

For me

And you

Two Angels

About my friend A, whose father has never told his other children that he has another daughter.

Blood binds them
Ignorance divides them
Fears and lies hide them from the joys of connection
And the likely pains of revelation
Alone, detached from flesh and blood
She aches for a kinship denied
And wonders who knows
And questions who cares
Their father’s sin
From ages ago
Unconfessed , Unresolved
Yet still potent in its power to hurt
To deprive

To connect?
Or not?
That is the question the breaks the heart.
To reveal
To conceal
That’s the decision that may liberate
Or may scathe
Two angels apart
One knows
One lingers in a haze
One waits, her wings clipped
One unaware
The man that connects them
In perpetual denial
In a coward’s cloud

The Gap

In a sea of white
You spot the speck of gray
In a world of rights
You watch the bit that's wrong
Of the things I've done
You ask about the one I didn't
What I want to do
You delight in telling me not to

Does it make you fulfilled
To notice the fault
Does it make you feel superior
To detect the errors
Do you find joy
In killing mine
Does reminding me of my flaws
Justify yours
Does clipping my wings
Free you from the pressure of your own flight
Does keeping me from shining
Excuse you from seeking your own light

You focus on the gap
You seek what's missing
You fail to see what's there
What's good, what's pleasing
You zoom in on the worst of me
And highlight the parts I want to hide
You uncover those
I need to deny

Yes, perfect I am not
And for praises I whore
They're just cheap words
Yet you give so little
The economy of your flattery
Is the hunger of my soul

Son

Would you have been a writer
Or a call center agent
Or somebody who insisted
On being neither of his parents

Would you have been creative
Like mom, a spaced out artist
Or would you have been street smart
Like dad, a pragmatist

Would you have been a rebellious teenager
Driving, moving under some bad influence
Or would you have been a good son
Blessed with perfectly good sense

You probably would be chubby
Not too big, not too tall
Maybe just a little bit athletic
Chances are, you could not sing at all

You would break my heart
Every time you get sick or hurt
You would break my face into a smile
With your charm, your mirth

Surely you would have dimples
And a laugh that can get others laughing too
Surely you'll be assured
I would spend my life loving you

Would you mind it so much
If my tired, achy heart stops hoping
And my long-empty womb stops waiting
Because the years have not stopped me from aging

Son, I loved you before I could meet you
I wanted you long before I could bear children
And even now as hope wavers and desire tapers
I still ask if not now, then when