The Raven and the Dove

"Often it does seem such a pity that Noah 
and his party did not miss the boat." - Mark Twain



There was a Flood of emotions.

To many to carry in my heart.
Too heavy for a hobo's hanging handkerchief bindle
at the end of a stick.
To many for the wheel barrel kart.

I needed an ark built of a woman's lace,
a brown briefcase,
and a dogs wagging tail.

Something built to shine brighter
than the trail of a skipping stone on its way to its fate.

Each emotion came in pairs.
Each with its mate.
the light,
the dark.
the wrong and the right.
the truth and not the truth.

Each boarded the ark,
carved its initials on the walls,
took out lines of credit-
and paced down the halls.

And the Flood came and went
and stopped coming by to sit a spell.

Last I heard its going door to door,
(ringing a bell)
making a fortune in women's hosiery.

And I lost my best
umbrella-
But gained a capricious sky,
Removing my hat, I stay polite.

I am cautious like that.

I sent out the raven
after the dove.

The black bird
after the white.

Although
there was no need,
the bird of love had come back alright.

The raven raised in shadows
with the
dove raised in love.

I sent out the raven after the dove,
I sent out the raven
because I doubted the other's
love.

I sent out the raven after the dove
I sent out the raven to be free,
never to come back-
surely lost in the blue eyes of ice.
never to come back with the branch of a tree.

But he came back with a diamond in his beak
cold, but true.

It was exactly what i needed, but
not at this time.
But for when the flood waters subside
and I claim what is mine.
When the land is ready for a King to set foot.

Till then,
I will send out the dove-
again and again.

When it comes back
with a branch, still green with hope
held tight in its grip.

I will ask it to do it again.
Until I have the tree, aboard ship.

I am cautious that way.

Rattle

(Part 8 of the R B Series)

I am shaking.

Getting out of my mind
and in tune with my body.

But a thought occurs to me.
Nobody is looking.

I'm gonna shake,
I'm gonna rattle,
I'm gonna roll.

I'm gonna invoke
Elvis
and
shake it like its jailhouse rock .

No one can see me.
Oh, if they only they could.

I'm all shook up.

Rage

(Part 2 of The R B Series)

My body can not take or give another punch.

My eyes mix the tears with the sweat.

The feeling in my fists,
(that dull pain)
is always there after the rage.

Always there.

I do not know if I have won this round.
(It does not matter)

The match  does not matter
The title.
The cut-
The wound does not matter.
(for now)

What matters
is what happens when the pain in my first
has faded again.

How long till it comes back?
How long till I enter the ring again?

What to do, when rage wants to destroy
its opponent completely?

How long till I realize, I alone-
have always been
the only opponent in that ring ever?

I tell myself-
"The pain will fade.
 Hang in there Champ, and
make your Mother proud..."

Restless

(Part 7 of the R B Series)

I can not sleep-
I see her eyes when I close mine.

I don't want to lose this.

Whatever has been awakened, is restless.

I don't know what happens next.
I don't wanna wait and see.

I want to know everything.
I want to know what she sees
when she closes her eyes.

I don't think this is the way these things are suppose to work.
I think  I was suppose say good bye,
as soon as I opened my eyes.

There are rules to this sort of thing.

(Fuck the rules)

Even if i have to steal every glance.
Pretend like its no big deal.

Nobody gets hurt.
Everybody wins-

I see her eyes when I close mine.

I've been losing so long.
I don't want to lose this-

I look forward to seeing her tomorrow.
(There is no turning back)
Till then, I don't mind losing a little sleep.

The night smells of peppermint.

Release

( Part 3 of the R B Series)

The release has left nothing
but the true self-

For the first time free of Ego-
For the first time Free.

Consumed.
Emptied out.
Drained.

What is left doesn't need to explain.

It only hopes one day, you too
will understand.

Reception

(Part 1 of The R B series)

I'm late.

Every one else is almost done

Eating. 

A woman with a kind 

Face greets me with forms that 

need filling out.

This is my reception into the unknown.

I was not expecting to see

any women around.

Knowing she is around brings
me a small comfort.

It always has.

Like in that book:

"even if they're only scratching their arms or blowing their noses
 or even just giggling or something." 

I don't know what to expect really-

I packed light:

Sleeping Bag 

Towel

Board Game-

Well that, 

and other baggage.

She tells me just to turn the paperwork in later,
(I should eat)
and
leaves me in room full

of strangers.

I am 

Unprepared

Exhausted

Who I have I brought?
What do I want them to see?

I made a promise.

So I will
Jump through any hoop,
Stand naked,
Bleed-

But for now,
I keep the talk small and polite.

These strangers will hear enough
from me eventually.

I've been dead inside for so long,
at this point in my life I have nothing to lose.

Better late than never.

There's at least one woman around.

Maybe she'll come back for the paperwork

Dinner time is over.

They gather us up,

Something is about to happen-

Fiat Lux

"Qué voy a hacer, je ne sais pas...

qué voy a hacer, je suis perdu"- Manu Chao

Aquí, desde las sombras, puedo ver la Luz.

Entre el passado y el olvido,
Entre el poema y el arte,
Entre la mentira y el amor,
hay Luz

Nunca voy a ser capaz de alcanzar La,
Nunca sabré la Luz.

Pero aquí,
desede la oscuridad,
Aunque estoy perdido-

me da una pequeña alegría saber que
hay una Luz que podría guiarme a salvacion.

Podría, pero he elegido las sombras.

Last Man Standing

I love you dearly,

like family.

You are the brother I never had.

I wish you the happiness that seems to elude me-

You say: 

I am last man standing.

Single
Unwed

Alone-

"I am" the last man standing.

But don't worry about me,

I worry enough.

I will find her one day-

and her love will save me from myself.

But this is your day.
I love you dearly.

In a world filled 

with  chaos  and unexpected storms of ruin,
that bring some  men to their knees,
and others down for the count.

I wish for you to be the last man standing-
with your wife beside you.

A good woman,

standing by her man.

Table for One

“I loved her; I was sorry not to have had the time and the inspiration to insult her, to hurt her, to force her to keep some memory of me.” 
― Marcel Proust



It was a lovely wedding reception.
Open bars always are-

Known.
I am Known here.

Loved even.

If only I could feel it.

If I could sit alone I would,
but this is a wedding.

There is only one girl worth talking too here,
but not because of beauty. No-

But because she has never met me.
The real me anyway.

She's met many versions of me.
Each version trying so hard to be clever.

Each
plotting-
scheming.

I want her to know my love,
even if can never feel hers.

I want her to know something true.

Amid the failed plots and crooked schemes-

My love is true.
the last true thing about me.
It is what I deny all women, and myself.

Unknown-
I am unknown here.

There is only one chair worth sitting in.
I wait the whole night.

Waiting for the
Courage, to be decent.

She has never met the real me.
(As I fear I've never met him either)

The seat next to her opens.

I sit, and introduce myself.

Decent, just be decent.
You can always blame it on the alcohol later.