Tag Archives: Friendship

Calling The Name of the Stars

Daisie is asleep upstairs on the couch,
wrapped in the pale blue, flowery comforter,
hopefully dreaming of beautiful things
beyond this broken world.
I try to put into to words, tools so
obtuse and transitory, the feelings
I have for her, my closest friend,
and the solace we’ve carved out here.
Head stills swims from the wine we shared
as we sat on the roof, calling the names of
the stars, and talking about all that was
going to come to be, hoping we’ve escaped pain.
Morning comes, and I give her that soft
and swallowing comforter, the biggest, fluffiest
pillow, and tell her to sleep well, to dream well,
as the sun came up, and we had no where to be.
In the downstairs room, my little office for writing
and her treasure and knick knacks to come today
for her bedroom on the third floor, with the window
that welcomes the sun every morning.
Been through hell, been swallowed by the beast,
but we’ve put miles and distance between those days,
and time, and we’ve found a solace in this house,
on a quiet street, and in each other, true and sacred friends.
May our world begin again. May we be wild children again.

Happy Birthday

It’s almost spring, a chill in the air,
but the sky is bright again,
and the first buds are on the trees.
It’s my birthday.
I ride my bicycle by the canals.
I’m going to my friends house.
She has a present for  me.
It’s my birthday.
She’ll wrap it in pretty paper.
She’ll wrap it in a big, red bow.
The present chosen with care.
It’s my birthday.
She’ll be waiting for me.
She’ll be smiles and love.
She’ll wear that teal dress.
It’s my birthday.
And we’ll share a cupcake.
Sit and watch tulips sway.
We’ll talk, enjoy each other’s company.
It’s my birthday.
It’ll be a perfect day.

Hope. A Wedding Dress

A gone to seed part of town,
by the water tower and interstate.
Thrift store beneath the overpass,
spend afternoons, our little money.
We made wonders of these scraps,
we made our light from these rags.
We found treasures of The Word there,
and we found a place to be as one.
One day, you found a wedding dress,
pure white and chintzy lace, faux pearls.
You came out of the dressing room,
looking like an angel, most wonderful girl.
Always said, you’d never marry,
never had a family, never lead that kind of life.
Seeing you there, I wanted you to be wrong,
for it to be you and me and on my wedding day.
And the years have passed, and I’m not young,
and you were taken from us, ripped from us.
You never married, and neither have I, will I.
The winter is just a reminder of light passing by.
I remember you, in that wedding dress, so bright.
Smiling, so happy, so lost in some dream, of hope.
It wasn’t our wedding day, and the world’s moved on.
But I remember, waiting for the hammer to fall.

Patience With Soothsayers

“Back home is a shithole, but it’s my shithole!” Gabby says.

“This place isn’t kind to me, I’ll go back to the winter I know”


A rainy Tuesday, not sure if winter or spring or nothing at all.

Where can you go? Where can you live? Where dreams grow?


Gabby smiles and I tell her a joke, make her smile for a moment.

I like to make her laugh, to chase away some shadows, sorrows.


Keep hoping the sky will open, and either God or a comet will come.

Either we put the brokenness behind us, or no more false hope tomorrows.


Gabby is a star, and I am star, but we’re suns once eclipsed by the moon.

Light casts shadows across home, unearthly light that lingers in prayers.


I drink my beer, I watch a game on one of the TVs, and enjoy her company.

Passing as she heads north, I south, having lost all patience with soothsayers.

Epicurus Garden

The little garden park, right at first light.
It’s cool, it’s quiet, they’re all still asleep.
I have a bottle of red wine for us to share.
I have all day to spend here with you.
 When are you going to come?
 The night becoming day, becoming a promise.
It’s been so long since I slept well, missing you.
The hours we’d fill with laughter and big plans
are quiet, and I’m buckling beneath their weight.
 When are you going to come?
 The angels on their pin, the demons stalking us,
the right and true path, for us, for our broken race,
the heavens that waited for the brave and faithful,
the passions we’d use to burn down every fucking star.
 When are you going to come?
 The day wears on. The wine is warm. The sun is harsh.
Some much noise. So many people. So much crowding me.
I’ll wait until the sun falls away, I’ll wait until midnight.
I can’t face these things alone. I can’t be alone in this town.
 When are you going to come?

Sway Dance

The lights are low, the mirror ball sparkles,
we’re both dizzy headed from the wine.
She is a blushing bride, all in satin and lace,
and I know, that now she can never be mine.
 Friends all our lives, and I foolishly fell for her,
when we were king and queen of the tawny plain.
Friends we did stay, and I’m so happy for her today.
But it’s all changing, our paths split now in twain.
 And, the end of the ceremony, deep into morning,
a sentimental ballad comes on, and we sway together.
Sway like middle schoolers at our first dance, laughing,
and this is her last morning of innocence, Queen of the Heather.
 The song ends, I bow, she curtseys, a count to his queen,
and she goes to back her man, takes his hand, kisses him so.
I fell in love with her, but friendship is treasure enough
and I’m happy for her, and it’s time to part, to her life go.
 A bottle of wine I drink from as I sit outside, the summer night
full of a spell only the thankful and sorrowful can feel.
Morning light will be the weight of the world, without her at all,
but maybe it’s a new beginning for me too, giving fate a spin at the wheel.

Sick Day Saturday

Rainy day. A cold, winter Saturday.
A chill in my skin, even as I cook her
my special recipe chicken noodle soup.
 I look at the wet and mud, muted color.
It feel so much more real to me now,
not like the lush summers of youth.
 I ladle out the soup, trapping lots of
chicken, my girlfriend loves the chicken,
and the fat egg noodles.
 Bowl on plate, spoon in bowl,
walking carefully to where she
lays on the couch.
 My breath catches, seeing her,
my lover, my woman, still a dreamer
of fantastic worlds.
 Wrapped in a blue blanket, wearing
her favorite hoodie, nose all the way
in an old Mighty Maid comic, from long ago.
 She’s kept something I’ve lost, an innocence,
a purity and hope, a belief in a better world
and the holiness of our heroes.
 Mighty Maid, like when we were young,
and she’s get a piece of that girl inside her,
where I’m just bitter, waiting for the fall.
 Like a sick day from school, curled up on
the couch, wrapped in the armor of blankets,
lost in dream worlds, fantastic places.
 So lost in the world beyond her, so ready to fly.
I watch her for a moment, just entranced by her,
her sweetness, her angelic light.
 She looks up, smiles, puts down the comic as I
place the steaming hot soup on the coffee table.
I kiss her head, her cheek, her cute little nose.
 She smiles, and starts to eat the chicken soup.
We talk, about the high and perfect days past,
about what we plan to do, once married, on our own.
 She curls up to nap, and I kiss her cheek, see her smile.
I go back to the kitchen to clean up, and see the sun coming,
and for a moment, for my lover, I believe in the light.

Emily Jean

It’s late September. We’re passing a bottle of wine late at night.
Sitting on a worn out couch outside her apartment, talking about life.
Red wine leads to red thoughts, of what comes when death finds us,
and what will be left of us as this world burns away sweetness for a laugh,
of what could last for all time.
 A bottle finished, another opened. We don’t realize where this will lead.
Just something to soothe broken hearts, make us feel light and full of dreams.
Her man left her. I’m facing the loss of someone dear. The stars gave us no names.
We’re both lonely and raw and just trying to hold onto warmth as winter comes.
We get drunk. We always get drunk.
 She ends up asleep on my shoulder, asleep, troubled and at peace.
Both bottles of wine empty at my feet. Her rust colored hair bleeds
the death of sweetness, of hope, down my chest. Another wound.
Buzzed, full of dreams, way too horny, I watch the sky, counting her breathes
and counting the stars, and giving up on the tenderness of the moon.

Walled Garden

A crack in the tenemant wall
I would disappear through,
come to this walled in garden
and play all day with you.
So many games and adventures to play
down by the cool waters.
Sitting hand in hand with you,
one of the Tsar’s many daughters.
The sun was honey in your hair
and the glimmer in your eye.
With you all was well,
I never had any need to cry.
As the sun fell I’d kiss your cheek
and go back through the wall
to the angry words and harsh things,
the corruption that held that life in thrall.
But I’d always return to you again,
and we grew as angels in the light.
Without a thought we’d nap in the sun,
as I held you so close and tight.
Yet even in our walled garden time did pass
and soldier’s of red did come.
Forced to know of he forbidden tree we were
by their cruelty’s bitter sum.
But I held close to you, I stayed near,
as the rifles were fired.
For being with you in the garden
had been all I ever desired.

The Girl I Always Knew

Long summer day, spent in each other’s company.
Sit on the shore, sharing beers, and some more laughs.
My head against yours as the sun cedes to the stars.
All these years, all these troubles, all these crazy times.
So close to losing you once, to letting this little world burn.
But here we are now forever, here we are until the end.
You’ve got your man and you’ve got your kids.
I’ve got a place in your heart, and by your side too.
I’ve got my own little world, full of stars and the endless sky.
As the night falls I kiss your head, squeeze your shoulders.
The day is over, the night is long, and I must go my own way.
I know I’m always welcome here, here with you.
I dream of perverse heavens and enticing hells,
I dream of black clover and lost causes and infernal crusades.
The world goes on, and I lose myself in my broken mind.
I’ll always love you, sweetheart, but you have your own heaven.
But you’ll always stand at my side, always welcome me in.
Goodnight and may you ever be shining like the sun,
Goodnight, and may I find the way back to where it all began.
Goodnight, until morning and paradise comes.