Chasing Dreams

We loved with the blues
and tired with the reds

We rose with the blacks
and sank with the whites

We united smiles with stains
and linked frowns with glows

We chose what beauty was
and created the damage still

Learn the rhythms
of sunlight
and rain flight

Dance the duet
solo

Your foreign verbs change over time
used so often they become
irregular

And I am stuck
relying on the irregularity
to remind me just how foreign you are

He wants to see a full body shot

She says
Look at my body of work
It will paint the picture

If words couldn’t transform
gay marriage would mean
happy marriage

Not believing in gay marriage
would then mean
not believing in happy marriage
therefore
you would believe that
marriage makes people unhappy

If words couldn’t transform
anyone not believing in gay marriage
would not want to get married
because they would not want to be unhappy
(unless they liked being unhappy)

But a word can transform, and does
One generation, it will be sitting
at the top of the tree,
admiring the earth’s beauty
The next generation, it will be
the stump of the tree,
beauty never acknowledged
no matter how beautiful it may be

And another word will take its place

But if something so simple
as a word can transform,
imagine what an idea can do

I wonder,
Does a writer need a muse?

I have thousands
but not one of them
is you

If I twist their colors around
and form your palette

Will you surface?

Suspect: insane,
assault rifle in possession,
ready to fire
if anyone tries to take away
his rights

Potential victim: cop,
currently chasing suspect,
ready to die
if anyone tries to take away
lives

Outcome: processing…

I only want to
write about you

but you are a ghost
leaving roses at my feet
when I sleep

whispering that
I’ll be okay

as long as I
don’t look for you

You don’t let anyone hear you sing
but that day in the car
when you thought everyone was asleep
I awoke to find you clutching the wheel
tears streaming down your cheeks
trying to sing through the tears but
only getting every fifth word out

It was like you were
letting your soul out
for a few minutes’ rest

You parked the car and woke us
Put on your sunglasses and
you were back to being
something else
but ever since that day
I’ve always equated
music
with
you

and I just want to hear
your song once more
so I can try to understand why
you don’t let anyone hear you sing

In Latin:
turbam opto
turbae urbas verborum orant
pontum volo dare



In English:
I desire a crowd
Crowds beg for waves of words
I want to give them the ocean

Would you love me in the raw

when anxiety sweat has not sprouted from my bones

when wet hair touches my spine and

my flesh has soaked in healing juices



Would you love me in the raw

when I do not hide behind shelled material

when my arms have strings of satisfaction attached to them

and I can stand by the window ledge

wind blowing, arms out, chin up, smile born



Would you love me in the raw

when words are not needed

when my eyes settle on you

and you know that I’m happy here

I can have rebellious words
and fire in my eyes

but if I don’t have the outfit to match
then they won’t remember me

which just defeats the purpose
of rebellion

Why does
sadness
satisfy us

But
suicide
break us

If we don’t
want them
to leave

Why do we
look at their
sadness

And say,
“You must be
doing well.”

I want to be your
invisible tattoo
The one
no one can see (but you)
but everyone knows
is there
by the look in your eyes
when you look down
and see me
hugging your skin,
ready to be with you
even though I’m gone

It was a yellow day
when I learned that
abortion
&
crime
are star-crossed

Abortion brings silence
in tunes of gold
&
Crime brings vibrations
in beats of blue

We must thank you
for reading the conditions
and saying no
to a culture that
beats itself alive