What if you were here today?



Cupid at the Masked Ball
by Franz Von Stuck

What if you were here today?

Would quavering voice or a salty stray tear betray?

Hands, would you shake or shiver?

Lips, I would forbid you to quiver

I would hope to appear as a strong, unbroken stone

Though cold-hard down to my core; so very much alone

I would have you see me standing up – my posture straight and tall

Not knowing how you had crushed me – or how far I once did fall

What if you were here today?

You would see the mask I wear each day

Covering my visage with an inscrutable disguise

Concealing my most painful scars - created by your lies  

Waiting for a Spark

Never at a loss

For words - wit - repartee

I stand before you

Struggling to communicate

Desire inexpressible

My voice has failed

Its rasping croak betrays

Fear choked throat so parched

Disobedient wooden tongue

Stubborn, unmoving stump

Better a letter

Elegant prose relating

All which fills my heart

But the words fall off the page

Spilled cascading waterfall

Stricken to muteness

My hand is still – pen is dry

I’ve become a lump of coal

Dumb idle slab hunkered down

‘Til passion’s flare ignites me

Little White Lies

Little white lies
Lies of omission
How hard I work to justify
My suppression of the facts
Dilution of the truth

I am half convinced
That my lack of candor
Is sparing you
Feelings of hurt - betrayal
How,
I do wonder,
Could truth told with a loving heart
A gentle, caring tongue
Ever bring harm?
… Yet, I know it can

So many “truths”
That would mercilessly chop - drop
Felling ... like a tree
The life and heart
Of someone dear

Better to carry
This crushing guilt
Reality's burden
Unspoken
Than to break your heart
By uttering a word

It was a Humpty Dumpty Day

Two dimensional

You thought me

Flat as paper

So you put me in the pile to be discarded

Ran me through the shredder

Making confetti out of me

Tiny unrecognizable pieces

Of the woman I once was

Broken down

Down and broken
Broken up

It was a Humpty Dumpty day

When you threw me away

It didn’t take all the King’s horses

Or all the King’s men

To put me back together again
Fragile - fragments

For I picked myself up 

Slowly, surely I did mend

Now I claim joy

The pain you've inflicted
Has come to an end

Bluebird

Tempo increases

That little jolt of my heart

Wakens tiny finches

Fluttering against my ribs

How I wish they were bluebirds

Moving me to happiness

Empty attraction

Perjures my mind with a lie

My heart does not love

Nor can I make it do so

I wish I were a bluebird 

To far rainbow's end
I would take wing and fly
Such a joyous place
Where tears come from laughing
And there is no reason to cry

Electronii

What would I do without this small box with tiny keys?

Would I read a book in the sun or enjoy the ocean's breeze?

Perhaps I’d walk the dog or to housework I would tend

Compose a letter, weed the garden or dine with my best friend

“Keeping in touch” through technology – feels as if something has died

Instead of being liberated, I am somehow unnaturally tied

To electronic gadgetry-widgetry-wizardry, however large or small

Electronii plural-portable ever with me; I won’t miss a text or call

The paranoia of being unreachable - part of our cold new world, so brave

Begs the question, which must be asked … are we now master or slave?

In the Tall Grass

You have been warned
Yet you are unheeding - unbelieving

Of your need to back away

To retreat … cautiously

To leave, quietly taking the measure of

Every movement you make

In the presence of such a

Wild, unpredictable animal 

As the lioness quietly growls her intentions
Here, in the tall grass

I 

Until now

A peace loving person

Have forgiven you seventy-times-seven

For your trespasses against me

I

Have now witnessed your harming ways

Evil deeds - Maiming words

Wrought against someone innocent

Whom I do so dearly love

You
Mistook my polite tolerance of you
As a sign of my weakness
A grave misjudgement
You
Are a bully - nothing more than a petty tyrant
Showing no mercy for those whom you victimize
Therefore, I will be merciless

I am unafraid

So ready am I

Trembling with anticipation
Spoiling for the fight I know is coming

I will face you

Call you out – challenge you

We shall battle to the death

I will call a spade a spade

For that is the shovel with which

You wanted to bury me and mine …

Is it not?

The lioness who lives within has been set free

She whose basic instict is to protect her own

Can not be recalled, once released

You

Will be obliterated

Not a trace of you shall remain in this place

Poised

Coiled like a spring - ready to attack

Silently, patiently - I wait here for you in the tall grass
A bit closer now … yes, come closer
The stench of your fear hangs in the stagnant air 

My power surges through my every molecule

Striking 
As a bolt of lightening

Deftly dealing the killing blow

My furious roar of ferocity
The last earthly sound that you hear

Silence ... then relief
For you are gone - will harm no other
My clan now safe
Still, I shall keep watch a while longer
Lone vigilant sentinel
Here, in the tall grass

This Man ... Este Hombre

Passionate Latino ways

Fair skinned Americano

Spanish, his mother tongue

Light-blue-eyed gringo

Since a babe

Growing wild

On an equatorial mountain

Like his rainforest beloved

Mellow cadenced speech recalls

Softly strummed strings

Of guitars accompanying

Lyrically poetic songs

Sung by sunny breezes

On the rich coast
- La Costa Rica -

Between two seas

This man ... Este hombre

Caught - trapped

In between

Starkly different cultures

As a man without a country

Whose Spanglish ideas

Blunt a sense of belonging

In either familiar latitude 

Too Latin to be American

Too American to be Latin

He yearns to be home

With no rest for his longing