the one sole source of truth

the things that i don’t know add up.

i must in humbleness unlearn
the many tropes i thought i knew
that were just lies, self-serving –

but not in silence to remain.

although i might be fearful that
i have not found the one sole source
among truth’s many flavors that
are now my heart unnerving –

for have i truly known
the weight of care
that others bear?

it seems unlikely, where i sit.

for truth, like peppers, has
its many shades, varieties, and purposes –

and i cannot remove myself
from the perspective which
defines the learner

this slow burner

this world-weary, bleary eyed, wage-earner

Oh, Love…

Oh, love, I’ve seen you autumn days
When hearts were less recalcitrant,
As leaves blew by in careless tumbles,
Lifted by the wind

Oh, love, I’ve seen you pensive, when
The heart grew fuller than the frame
Containing who and what we are,
These cans in which we’re tinned

For seldom truth we speak, although,
We claim to seek it all the time;
We vow it is our sacred right,
The one thing we would die for –

But as the rustling leaves blow by,
Our precious goals all go awry;
For what we’d have, we take as naught,
And shrink from what we’d try for

Oh, love, how do we lift this veil?
This covering of toil and stress?
I’d give you all I’ll ever have,
Except for my own selfishness

I’d hold you precious, all the time,
Except for my own



she’s lodged and stuck within his brain –
he cannot get out her out –
he knows it’s madness – folly – and
he curses at the day that he was born —

he runs at 4 am, and tries to sweat her out,
to breathe her gone,
but still she’s there, in elegance,
a brand that burns into his head,
a fire blazing in the night,
unwanted thoughts in daytime, and
a hopeless sort of sadness when he’s driving

for he’s known what it is to touch
and feel and be a part, to be as one,
then be apart again – as she in coldness
lapses into feeling her non-feelings

and he would take on anyone who might be there
to drive her out, her maddening indifference –
but she won’t go
she’s lodged

and love has made of him
a fool

I Sometimes Walk

I sometimes walk towards Lord knows what
Because it’s where I’m headed;
I often fear the route I took
But still explore the dreaded,

The feared, the secret, the unknown –
These all have their allures –
For all the choices I have made
In no way me inures

To what misfortune my way waits.
This is the life we lead:
We’re driven by our opaque hearts
As much as any need

Might lead us to our destinies.
Seek not these paths to censure:
For such is human servitude,
The terms of our indenture —

We’re fated to know just enough
To know that we don’t know;
But gifted with such energy
That still we onward go

Round corners and down tunnels where
We meet our many fates —
The new experience we find
But never know awaits,

As passion fights with habit, and
We new paths will behold —
Just like the one I’m walking on
Before I get too old.

For I have no idea – I don’t.
But still, I do not balk:
For sometimes, we walk towards our dreams,
And others —
We just walk

The Covering Quilt

A girl was born, a miracle;
She grew to know the lizards and the birds
That lined the quilt with which
Her mother covered her at night

When she saw the stars, they shifted
Into the same bright menagerie;
Dreams of dancing tropical stars
Keeping her warm and safe

Her mother wore her sadness soft;
There was no father – there had never been –
And when her mother’s footsteps slowed with sorrow,
Her daughter offered her the covering quilt

Oh, let love rain down like showers of stars,
Let flocks of birds carry you to sweet peace;
Let love cover us tonight, we just-two,
And take us to where many-colored dreams
Turn tears into pools of reflected wonder