Friday, May 27, 2011

Bench-Warmer

Last one picked, I join the team,
Already huddled, already living the dream
That I keep dreaming from the sidelines,
Running lines, waiting for a chance to take the stage.

I sit, an understudy, jersey and all,
Waiting for Coach to make the call.
But futile, no contest, I can’t compete,
I’m tall and awkward, with two left feet.

I look across the blades of grass,
I move so quick, I run so fast,
I dominate in every way,
and capitalize on every play.
The crowd it cheers, but loudly now,
The play at an end, I take a bow,
And then I wake to the game at hand,
A perfect view from near the stands...

The lights they shine, but not on me,
A win, but no feeling of ecstasy
As I rush the field and fake a smile,
A hypocrite, lost in the pile
Of players.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Stingray

You’re the sweetest thing
I’ve ever seen,
Sleek and black
With a little sheen.
Smiling, you let your
Top go down
So I can ride you
All over town.
I grab you
And shift your gears,
With your subtle roar,
I let go my fears.
I go hard now,
No chance I’ll brake,
At home in you
It’s never fake
The joy I feel,
The freedom, surreal,
From the control I keep
Behind the wheel.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Leap of Faith

Anxiously waiting for my story to unfold,
Patience running out,
Let the truth be told,
Arms reaching out,
I break free from the mold,
Heat rising up,
I turn my back on the cold

And shout to the Heavens:
“Shine your light down on me,
And I will strive each day
To be what you want me to be.
My heart’s locked up
And only you have the key,
So let Mercy’s rain fall
And finally set me free.”

And the Heavens reply:
“All this time I’ve been here,
Even through your darkest years,
But finally you’ve wakened
And opened your ears.
Now, blind yourself to the follies of sight,
And hold my hand, you have nothing to fear.”

And thus I stride, anxious no more,
For though the road may bend,
I will find its end
And enter His abode,
As long as I reach out to open the door.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Wake-Up Call

A heavy head lays to rest
On protruding letters A through Z.
The ringing, a summons you fear,
That leaves you never a moment free,
You blissfully ignore,
For Ignorance is blissful freedom.
Freedom—from the fetters of this world—
For those who sleep with their eyes open.
“Close one [eye] to the world and all that is therein,
[A]nd open the other to the hallowed beauty of the Beloved.”

Against the ropes of Ego you fight
To escape the darkness and reach the light.

Wake up and rise from the ashes,
And like a Phoenix, escape into the starry night,
And soar unto timeless heights,
Above the clouds where love stands still.
Free of the battered temple below,
Assaulted by the winds of time,
Now fix your gaze on the Heavens above
And breathe the scent of perfume, sublime.


*Quote from the Hidden Words of Baha'u'llah, Number 12 from the Arabic

Saturday, May 21, 2011

What it Means to be on Top of the World

Across the roof top,
A small, grey blur
Scurries to the murmur
Of the gentle wind.

Freedom he grasps,
His limbs will not fail,
One shingle to the next,
Reaching the Holy Grail.

But louder she grows,
The wind, she cries,
And freedom trembles
Before his eyes.

Then, following the teardrop,
He looks below
At the warmth inside,
The hearth, aglow.

Freedom he would give to be warm and safe,
but, alas, his freedom he cannot escape.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Play-Right

We are all players,
The world is our stage,
And each day we live
Is another turned page.

The curtain rises,
There’s no turning back,
Nowhere to look
For the words we lack.

So onward we go
With no chorus to sing,
For it knows not the end
That our follies will bring.

With our costumes on
And the set designed,
We must simply do
What comes to mind.

And so, to add intrigue,
We play our parts,
And in games of chance,
We bet our hearts.

Lose we might,
As the queen lays beat,
But we play another hand,
Not admitting defeat.

And as we live
From scene to scene,
We take with us
Our hopes and dreams,

Which may very well change
From act to act,
Before they become
A matter of fact.

And in the end
We’ll look and see
That all the hardships
Were meant to be...

But be wary,
For along the way,
The path may curve
And you may stray.

With every gesture
You write the script:
Every hand you kissed,
Every hat you tipped

Will be recorded in time.
Every cry and every curse
Will call after you
As you ride in your hearse.

And once it’s written
That you did fall,
Remember They will,
At the curtain call.

No dress-rehearsal can
Prepare your soul,
No re-write can fill
The forgotten holes.

One chance we have
To write the story
That we will tell
For all Eternity.
Let’s write it well,
And take our bows,
And leave the rest for
The After-Party.

Talking

All talk and no action,
I can’t get no satisfaction.
I clocked you,
Our eyes synchronized.
I’ve stamped my time card so many times,
But I’m not getting paid overtime.
You’re logged in my memory
Even when you’re far from me,
But now it’s time to clear the cachés.
Your image, no longer engraved
In my mind disintegrates into the space between.
Hope, diffused by your fading smile,
Escapes my soul with every mile that
Separates our heart-to-hearts,
For talk is cheap and will continue to be
So long as research develops technology.
But walking those 500 miles
To cross into reality,
And walking 500 more to see all we could be,
Those 1000 miles will get you points—
If you tie up your shoes, I’ll tie mine too,
And when you leave, walk back with you.

Going Sleeveless

Don’t tell me you didn’t know.
Don’t tell me you could not read,
That on my sleeve it doesn’t show
That you are all I need.
Because of you the sleeve I’ll roll,
And silence the dark ink
That spoke of the heart you stole,
That proved the weakest link.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

See Through

I wanted you to understand my implicit thought
But was afraid your heart would not agree
With the outcome I sought,
Your love for me.
Hours I spent
With you on my mind,
Hoping you’d finally get what I meant,
And that in my eyes, your love you would find.

Perseverence

Bare and leafless you stand
As the Wind barks at what’s left.
Your limbs sway as you laugh back.
The clots where you bled—
Proof of the hardened life you led.
The wrinkles left by time
Hide the smooth wisdom of your years.
The industrial cold infects your lungs,
but firmly rooted you are, silent and waiting,
for hope has fallen with the Sun’s tears.
You won’t back down, for spring is near:
“So strike hard, Wind. I am still here.”

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Stop Sign

Red lights ahead, I could not see,
I was deaf to the voices so dear to me.
In the darkness, I could see no end,
but hoped for light around the bend.
And so I waited, but there came no light,
the faintest hope now out of sight.
I could not move, so there I stood,
to cry for help, I knew I should.
My legs gave way as my life rushed by,
to keep my balance I did not try.
The end was certain, that much I knew,
but part of me hoped it wouldn't be true.
And so I let go of the voices within,
and to your call, I completely gave in.
Weak I was, no strength could I find,
You were the gap I did not mind.

The Real Eternal Love

Mon coeur piéton marche au rythme de ta caresse
Et franchit touts obstacles, grâce à ta tendresse.
And, leaping, it becomes suspended in air,
Like Dahli’s rose, a dream so rare.
Et quand tu m’embrasse, rêve et réalité se rejoignent,
Et je coule comme une rivière, et le plancher s’éloigne,
As I rise on clouds of hope, resurrected,
To the altar by which our two souls are connected.
Et tenant mon coeur dans tes fortes mains,
Tu m’accompagnes vers l’amour divin,
The quintessence of what true love should be,
An aspiration for all eternity,
Une tempête de chansons amoureuses, sans cesse,
Qui nous encourage, même dans la détresse.
For love is a fortress, it overcomes all fear,
A delicate bastion for our hopes so dear.
Et quand tes yeux touchent le fond de mon coeur,
Tout angoisse s’échappe, et s’enfui la douleur.
My truest friend with whom I laugh and cry,
Your love gives me wings with which I can fly.
Alors ce soir on danse la valse de nos coeurs,
Dans ce jardin céléste, plein d’amis et de fleurs,
For with your heart on my sleeve and my thoughts in your heart,
I have finally found my soul’s missing part.

You Blow Hot Air

The smoke you breathe,
It taints the air,
The words you speak,
Crude and bare.
You talk the talk
And walk the walk
But in the end, it’s you they mock.
Your smile is nice,
But insincere.
Your voice is loud,
But out of fear
Of being found out.
Insecure, you run amuck,
Through every girl that you can f***k.

You say that isn’t what you want,
And yet, that life is what you flaunt.
You act like that to fake control
Of a life that’s left you
All but whole.
And keeping up the way you do,
How to get out, you have no clue.
So on you go,
On your merry way,
Praying to Mary
For another lay.
Denying the pain you feel inside,
With no one in whom you can confide,
Until one day, when all you’ve got
Is your father’s name
And a bag of pot,
Her smile will pop into your mind,
The one who watched, your head held high,
Who cared enough for you to try
To make you stop and recognize
That, eyes wide shut, you searched for love,
And love you missed, despite its cries. 

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Until We Meet Again

A man came to see me one day.
A grim and dismal look,
And clad in gray,
He had in place of left hand a hook.

His charcoal eyes, louder than his voice,
Decreed the tragedy to befall.
Weak and cold I had no choice
But to answer his devilish call.

Limp were my limbs, my lips, cold
As November air.
My soul had been sold,
And I made ready to pay the fare.

As he drew me near
And unraveled the thin sheet of my life,
My heart soared with fear
As I thought of my wife.

I lived in a home inhabited by Faith,
Where Love nursed the young,
And kept them safe.
And in this home a song of hope was sung,

Where expectation never died,
And ambition was strong.
When I remembered this I sighed,
For I had waited so long

To see the expectations reached,
And the ambitions attained.
This longing my heart preached,
And to resist the man’s power, my mind maintained.

But hold.
For appeared there,
As the man his parchment did refold,
A nymph, almost bare.

Into a goddess he was transformèd,
Crowned with joy and a jeweled wreath.
Where once was gray, gold was in its stead,
And no longer rotten were her pearl teeth.

As I beheld the gates to paradise,
I was carried through by a beautiful melody.
Nothing more was needed to entice,
For I knew that here I was meant to be.

How long had I waited
With this story to tell,
And yet no details had faded.
The pearl, till now, still in its shell.

For I knew we would once again meet,
And become one, with one single beat.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Beloved Thief

O conspirator!
Was it plotted that thou thus take
My heart hostage?

A stealthy thief thou art,
For without skipping a beat
My heart didst thou steal.

An assassin,
Thou piercest my heart with thy gaze
And it burns stronger than Pele’s fire.

A merciless tyrant art thou,
For thou art sole master of my heart,
And with thy bountiful smile
Dost thou whip it into submission.

Star-Crossed Lovers

Star-crossed it felt, even before we met,
With human intervention to secure the debt.
I saw you first, my jaw almost dropped,
And when our eyes met, my heart must have stopped.
And time and again our eyes did meet,
In silent rendezvous beyond the streets,
Until one day the silence broke,
My heart pounding when first you spoke.
But now the silence has once again set,
And I wonder if I must simply let
It be.
I wonder if you were truly heaven-sent,
Or if I hopelessly imagined you were meant
For me.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Flicker of Hope

The flame is lit, the candle burns,
My heart on fire, it longs, it yearns.
From heartache to heartache, it flips, it turns,
Off of love it lives, and love it spurns.

That's Classic

What do you do when the novelty wears off?
What do you do when all eyes are turned forward, waiting for the next best thing?

Why do last season's Pradas not match that new dress,
But Monet's Lilies are still as admired as Jackson Pollock's mess?

Red is the new pink, pink, the new red,
The Spice Girls are gone, but there's Miley instead.

Do our fickle minds create the markets?
Or do the markets create our fickle minds?

On men and women alike lays the blame,
On the hunt for something better, always playing the game.

What do you do when you are the novelty, left behind?
What makes you a classic, a one of a kind?

Monday, May 9, 2011

The Tailor


How hard it was, so long ago,
My love for you, you did not know.
My heart, in exile, chained and bound,
Shackles of silence weighing to the ground.

In exile I waited, for your decree,
To lift my heart and set me free.
But when my solitude you did not end,
I sought another for my heart to me
nd.

Caulk and Mortar

I built you of solid stone,
And filled the holes with sweat and bone;
I built you with thought in mind,
To keep away the bumps and grind;
I built you to stop the rain
From sullying my life with pain;
I built you to close the door,
So all the hurt would be no more;
I built you with great intent
To justify the time I spent;
I built you to do your part
And seal the holes left in my heart;
But most of all,
I built you, wall,
So that next time I would not fall.