my darling,

sleeping in this bed,

waiting until

there’s only now

and no tomorrow;

each cell

a masterpiece

of sound and I


the beauty

that has come

into my life.


Slowly, sun lifts

from eyebrow

to eyebrow,

yawns across the sky

and grants us a grin–

now tell me again

of this thing called love?

I hear you

in the night,

just as gentle

and unafraid

as you are

in the morning–

sun shining,

blades of grass

shooting upwards,

following my mind’s eye

as I send

a word of thanks

to whatever god

there is for sending

you to me.


How many steps

were taken,

books read,

conversations had

until you reached

my lips?

How many times

did we scream,


before I could

tell you,



It is always now.


It is always now

that I will love

your midnight kisses,

blush as you name

your reasons

for loving me;

now is the time

I love you

and the tongue

you use to speak,

words of rise

and triumph

and resistance

and awe.


Now is a time

for no time,

for no thing,

except our cells

lighting up,

greeting each other,


“Hello, again…”


March 8, 2018



Watching the Night

Have I ever gazed

a sight like this?

Third (fourth) floor?

Window sill?

Moon shining like a teardrop

ready to fall from above?


Well, no.

It will stay in its place.

All you must do

is spread your wings

and fly up there yourself, darling.


You have nothing to fear.


It is just a New York street,

an Upper Manhattan merengue

playing off in the distance.


What does that sound, taste, scent of doubt

have on this essence of consciousness?


We are here together, on this main stage.


It keeps turning,

we keep turning,

your mind keeps turning

let it be what it is.

Feel it.  Nod, let it go.


Patience is hidden in the smile of the moon,

offered by the silence of her sister sun

she remains, shining brighter in the darkness

and not afraid of her beauty, either.


The real miracle

is knowing how to watch the show

and not become it;

the moon does this for us every night

brushes her lips against the sky

I can see it shining–

a smile reflected in the stars.


No, I cannot see them above the diner sign

but I can hear them:

whispers of light

burning through the galaxy

reminding us

that we do not understand time, just yet.


July 12, 2016



must read

the signs


my child–

it is not every day

the sun

and moon

touch lips

and then part ways.


Do no let one

chase the other

in vain–


their footsteps

into the sky

and realize

your own emptiness,

your own infinity,

your own basic goodness

stretching out

like a smile

over the pale blue



December 26, 2015

Pen and Paper

The connection

of paper on pen

makes me want

to believe again

in life,

in love.


If two souls

can touch

so silently

and still leave

such a mark,

what is to come

of us, my dear?


I can deny fate

like sinners laugh at God;

I can wake at dawn

and see only moon, not sun.


We can wander forever,

looking for the ink–

the touch of pen on paper,

a love that saves, not sinks.


November 5, 2015

My Sister and I

A few seconds left

of number nine

waiting for now…

if it comes.

Yes, it’s here

I rush out of there

to my place,

where I can be alone-

but no,

there’s still that raincloud

above me whenever I’m there,

when the sun sets

and the moon glows

that dragon is under me.

When sunlight fills my window

she is over me;

When I am anywhere,

she’s there.

Bur if she wasn’t…

I wouldn’t.

If she disappeared in the moonlight

I’d be the cloud,

lifting her up

and although we’d be gone…

we’d be together, forever.

September, 2004
I wrote this poem in seventh grade amd recently found it in a long-lost journal.

Listen; Love

I can listen with my skin

as well as my ears,

see the stars with my pores

leaking the magic of, “I wonder

how long it will be until humans

realize they can fly?”


I’ll walk down, too.


My mind sighs to the moon

wishing that the mess in the chaos

wasn’t so easy to side with,

easing away beauty: its twilight brother.


If we are one under the same sun

do not judge me by my pigment,

make a predicament out of my future

calling me back to a place

where time was slow,

race was none,

and love was all

one listened for,

at night.


March 19, 2015