Tag Archives: Poetry

Counting down the minutes when I can provoke your laugh,  and for that matter, the idea of us and the sparkling sea When we dared to jump in the darkest of nights fueled on baklava and rum How tedious it must be when we can’t be free

Take care to chop the cilantro properly. Promise me. Also, that we will not be drowning in debt how sensitive you are to cutting onions. Tears will get into broth. Which will only make me cry eating it. Remember joy instead. eliminate details Petty fights.

Like lavender It pours over me Like sweet yakitori My life in diamonds I saw the girls as specks and free floating shapes as my eyelids grew heavier Washes of color. Red lips and long limbs They became faceless. Beautiful little creatures Sensory afterglow or probably allergies

Partially cloudy on a Tuesday at sixty-three degrees.  There was a dry heat that compressed us like pancakes. Simply giving into the curves of the motion as we sipped iced coffee with paper straws. The last train departing. Business class specific. We wrapped our arms around things unsettled.  Optimistic. Hoping for a view of theContinue reading “Surfliner”

We saw a dead bird today. Two birds to be honest. The added irony to this was I had the dream two nights ago. A bird dead as could be lay facing up. It’s white carcass presented itself to the sky. Decapitated. I found my dog to be hiding something in his mouth. This becameContinue reading “QT with the Pup”

Those white elephants. He grinned at the panoramic ocean view.     Everything else remained thick, gray and invisible. The water was considerably more, vast and exposed when viewed from this height. Carefully, he sorted out the variety of percussion instruments, crystal singing bowls, gongs and his precious pan drum.     Musical tools cluttered the floorContinue reading “Sound Bath”

I lay with my love. He sends me promises of a motionless kiss. There we would find a silence to the challenging matters of obstructions. Which I craved in these dark days.  It would be about noon when I find myself longing even with the brilliant light on green Moroccan tiles. I can’t stop forgettingContinue reading “A Dash of Salt”