My love How can my love be true While I am not true to myself
Category: Poems
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The Long Goodbye
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I reluctantly accept myself Crotchety father reluctantly embracing gay son swallowing private tears farewell society and cherished hopes for this
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Without, the old storm dooms Within, the wee soul blooms
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Foom! Pine needles thrash me with its limb of snow Foom! Again Foom! and I look up from my jogging, from eyes down against the drifting flakes The elegantly dressed forest standing still — a white stag — blinks at me content to be finally seen
Jogging In Snow
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I’d take a fall for snow
Fall for Snow
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Truth on paper what a mess Me, Othello, longing black and white in real life I'm colored
Color Theory
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Out of some undefined desperation foot after foot to the little pond for some kind of respite The bright blue sky weakens overhead Despondent to perceive the giant cloud looming I turn back watching my shadow disappear before me A bright bloom of light taps me on my shoulders turns me around The sun peeks through beckons me join it in its descent into darkness saying, “wait” Entering into the cloud like God seating himself on His throne And the beautiful charcoal of the proud only serves to contrast so much wild brightness its fringes lit in white fire Fixed eyes remain peeled to take in such piercing radiance Now knowing I never stare straight into the pure, generous incendiary sun Only in such special tainted moments can I witness glory with my unabashed human vestiges Thunderstruck, I gape at its brazenness as it proceeds through a feathery chaos irradiating every wisp Light on light on light wafting and pulsating My jaw drops and I softly exhale a silent joy In perceiving the blue sky revealed as a dazzling, ethereal, secret green sea And gaze in wonderment at the world flipped in a wink into some vast oceanic kingdom As off in the distance some cute puffs cheekily sport ruddy pink
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scurrying about “I’m Lost,” he said He tripped field to field countryside to countryside galaxy to galaxy “Here I am: lost,” he said There a garden grows
I Knew Him, Once
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I blow upon your pinwheel soul The cattails bunch and swoon gently, easy The lone sailor upon your vast lake delights in his full sail The clouds hurry across the sky The mountaintops receive the lightest touch of icy precipitation Meanwhile, the fish swim, pondering your depths, undisturbed
Blowing Upon Your Lake
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Oh, Joy! My broken piñata heart