What is life that we should live it?
What is suffering that we should bear it?
The crow walks along on a long wire
And stares at me as if acknowledging my pain;
The heavens open and release a frightful,
And thunderous rain—
My god, what a glorious wonder;
On sentimental midnight talks of love
Hearts are torn asunder—
Am I not worthy?
Am I not a man who has sought peace
On mornings early?
The frightful thoughts invade and subdue—
In my hour of panic I see intimate visions of you;
You were my world and my only love—
Pure and incorruptible;
You brought from within me a lost smile,
And took away all my troubles—
The harshness of life cares not about
The matters of love and of the heart;
I am lost in desolation and utter dryness—
I am a man in need of water, whispering
Strange utterances and stumbling aimlessly
In the wilderness.
Who will hear my cry?
In our moments of turmoil on somber nights
My love, you would cry;
My angel, let us together release our hurt and pain.
For your hurt is my hurt, and your sorrow my sorrow.
I dreamed of you in rows of
Lavender, fuchsia, purple, yellow and blue.
I had seen you my angel coming from the heavens
To resurrect me from the death of melancholy,
And lonely despair;
Your gleaming white wings spread and comforted me.
In your warmth I was wrapped up—
The potency of your love healed me;
Your smile and laughter brought me back to life;
The indescribable feelings that I feel
Rise up within my spirit tonight—
If you only knew my heart still belonged to you;
If you could only see my desires deep within …
I love you;
I long for you.
-
-
In weeping I have found my strength;
In suffering I have found my endurance.
The world may burn
but my feet shall not be scorched.
Like seagrass I will move to and fro
in violent tides but shall be at peace.
In my weariness I will remember
The comfort of my mother;
In my darkness I will unrepentantly
And angrily curse the name of my father.
I shall be uninhibited; I will not be contained;
I shall not be swayed;
Like a giant oak tree I shall stand
Alone in sprawling glory.
I will not wither, but thrive.
I will not fold, but flourish.
Precious memories will sustain me,
And the love in my heart shall nourish me.
Vile words and bad intentions
Shall not prevail against me.
I am a mangrove forest anchored in deep waters.
Like the Harpy Eagle,
I will be extremely focused and resolved.
I will not be shaken;
I shall not be bound. -
For lost loves and broken hearts
For the sufferers and torn apart
For wonderful dreams and peaceful streams
For the intimate moments we hold sacred in our memory
For the survivors
For the resilience of depressed single mothers
For the hopes and dreams of loving fathers
For the time you told me I was a good son
For the time I told you I loved you more than anything in this world
For Julia, Alvara, Herminio, Viveca, Howard, and Esmeralda
For making me a drink and sharing a cigarette with me when I was in tears
For loving me for the time you did
For the love I poured out unconditionally to all I’ve loved
For Sandy and the time we rode the 2 train to Grand Concourse
For summers in New York
For the pizza shop around the corner from Burke Avenue that sold the best slices
For my grandmother
For my mother
For the promise I swore to myself at an early age not to be a non-existent father
For the first time I told you I loved you, and meant it with all my heart
For understanding and genuine compassion
For the anguished who think they can’t hold on any longer but always find a way out
For those who are gone and dearly beloved, whose memories will live on forever
For Irish coffees at any time of day and good cigars
For the lonely and the pursuit of genuine love
For the tired and weary who take long rides on city buses to make a living
For the victims of abuse
For the homeless who quietly cry in dark abandoned buildings in sleeping bags on cold nights
For all of us. -
As the small
Yellow pills wear off
Thus begins his
Descent into hell. -
Kiss me and move my spirit;
I love you with a love I can hardly fathom.
Move my heart in winter’s tempest
And touch my soul on warm summer nights.
The heavens know I would die for you;
Together we have walked the path of love and sorrow;
You are my angel —
Your white wings are spread and I am comforted;
Only you know my hurt and my deep pain.
Caress my face and bring me back to life.
If I should die, let me die telling you that I love you;
Your tears of joy move me to emotion,
And we cry together.
Let us not be separated in this life or the next;
Neither strife, nor blight, nor hardship, nor suffering,
Nor whispers, nor lies,
nor the cast of unapproving eyes ever separate us.
Ours is a marriage of the heart and soul;
We look into each other’s eyes,
And our vows are exchanged in silent intimacy,
And everlasting passion.
We are our own rings;
We are our own symbols of love.
Let us lie together and please each other
Without inhibition and with extreme intent;
Your beauty is akin to a flawless natural blue diamond;
I will savor the rareness of you. Forever I love you. -
The last tear is shed. Wide eyes stare but see nothingness. Her makeup is perfect; her eyes, a beautiful shade of green. Lush long golden brown hair hangs off the back of a chair like a beautiful waterfall; a beautiful and solemn song plays in the background but she cannot hear it. The complexity of her, the potency of her love, her intricacies …
Hear their love for you in their weeping and the stories they tell of you. Hear them whisper your name in the twilight and in the darkness of night. Hear the songs sung about your many exploits, and about your wonderful spirit. You are indelible upon them; you are sealed upon their memory.
The beauty of you … my god, the beauty of you.
You live; you yet live.
-
Dark stillness abounds but still restful sleep seems to evade.
Tears run on soft pillows; the agony of the dark early morning
inflicts even more anxiety than the night before. Light is sought
but dark curtains are drawn to shield the eyes from the pain of
slow adjustment. Weary eyes have become accustomed to
the darkness. The years of praying no longer suffice. An existence
is what is left … he wants to live again … he wants to touch the sky.The darkness plagues unmercifully and darkens dreams.
The suffering increases slowly year after year. The seasons come
and go, and he has forgotten his age. Turmoil is made manifest
in the frailty of his body. He remembers the comfort of his mother,
and yearns for her presence; to comfort himself he whispers
her favorite hymns. He’s become a vampire that wants embrace
the light again, but will the light accept him or confine him to
eternal darkness? He takes a shower to start the day. -
See me now.
See me in my wretchedness;
See me in my pain.
See the eyes that have seen struggle,
And the nights of dark rain.
See me in my anxiety;
See me in my tears;
See the toll of heavy burdens
I have carried over the years.
See the life that is within me;
See the deep hurt that I carry daily.
See me in tattered clothes on the street
Begging passersby for money.
See me in abject poverty;
See my illness that is invisible to many.
See me sleeping on church steps in the winter;
See me wishing for peace and eternal slumber.
See my hopes and see my dreams;
See me in linen white
Resurrected in light by a peaceful stream. -
In your eyes I wanted to be a good son. In my eyes you were a god.
In a sea of black a young boy sits quietly in solid oak church pews.
Young eyes stare at stillness as it lies. The agony of reality encompasses
Like tall waves in dark seas.
In that moment your last words are remembered:“You are a good son”
Tears fall.
-
In the spring I dreamt of you;
Summer came and I fell in love with you;
By the fall I would have died for you.
I swore on the heavens and the angels
That my heart belonged to you.
In the darkest tunnel my light would have found you;
If only we could have made it through the winter.
Intimate Compositions 