Caprice

each breeze
cut across
the blade edge
of your heart

and
moved
some internal
mechanism

I could never
fathom;

you were born
in a city
of windmills.

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Fish

Oceans of thought swirl
Beneath an eclipsed moon
The fisherman in his boat
Draws them out, one by one

Night-Shift Dad

Father, my father
Was a man of shadows
Who woke in the day when I was away
And who never shared our evening time meals
While I dreamed, he slotted and sorted
While I explored, he was a boulder lying,
A hard form beneath the coverlet.
I never knew him
Until he was old and gray,
Lame and wanting so much
For someone to talk to.

Psyche

Hidden lives like icebergs
Are hard to excavate
One might cause an avalanche
Or drown in the blue sea

Strangers on the Same Road

All people have gaps in their knowledge
But usually attribute that ignorance to others
And think that they, themselves, cannot be understood
But once they realize we are all similar
In our permutations of differences
They also realize those voids are meant to be filled
By the meeting of others

Baring the Soul

Self-evisceration by telling the horrible truths
Of oneself, hoping the listening party
Will understand that the hurtful actions
Do not come out of malice or indulgent pity
Euphoric to let go, outgrow the chains
But at the same time, hollowed out
Punctured into Swiss cheese
Circular tears in the aftermath

Communication

In the silent waiting time
One must trust of good intentions
And greet the guest with courtesy and respect

In between the lines of unsaid things
It does great harm to project insecurities
And lay foundation to an anger that is not there

Be truthful and give explanation to yourself
Even if none is given to you
But understand that all words hold the curse of Babel

Grief

Making sense of one’s emotions
The twisted conundrums of why
I thought the crying ceased yesterday
But today brings fresh thoughts and tears

Grandfather

You have always treated me well and kindly
And spoiled me with the love that might have been your mother’s
Before you were spirited away from a revolution
And became a beggar teacher with a young wife
And crossed the seas to skin your knuckles
Trying to become a chef where the demands cut
You raw to the blood beneath
And froze your heart to two wayward sons
One too slow and heartbreaking to watch
And the other one too clever
With a memory too long, holding grudges
But you have always treated me kindly
And I will embrace you and dot your wrinkled face
With kisses, because for all your faults
I love you