Hide-and-Seek

I lose myself in the night sky.

It's something about the shy constellations,

Even as they hide behind the city lights.

Maybe they enjoy the chase.

Maybe its fun for them

To play hide-and-seek?

I loved that game as a child.

Summers even before I knew what summer was

Spent running through a park near my house,

Dad counting to a hundred near the tall palm tree.

I look for a corner in the picnic area

Near the old stone barbeques.

… Four, Five...

But I have a hard time finding a good place to hide.

… Eight, Nine...

I see a good spot, but it's too small

And I just don't fit in.

… Twelve, Thirteen...

So excited.

Manic, frenzied in my search.

Still no good hideouts.

… Fifteen, Sixteen...

I see the perfect place

At the intersection of an aging oak

And one of the stone barbecues:

Just there, an indent large enough,

Perfect for me.

… Eighteen, One Hundred! Ready or not, here I come!

What?

Already?

Too late: 

He sees me, and I run away.

I feel him catching up to me.

Cheater! You didn't count a hundred!

Didn't you hear? I counted one hundred alright.

He catches up to me, tags me.

Can it be my turn now?

Nope, it's getting late. Time to take you back to your mom's.

Aww!

Don't worry. There's always another day.

But there isn't.

There aren't, there weren't, enough days.

Maybe that's how the stars feel.

So they can go ahead and hide as long as they want.

They have time.

Never Empty

My hollow heart collapsing under pressure

And behind my eyes a fuzzy lightness.

Holding my mind bound, a hostage

And it wants to fade away, fly away.

I fight the feeling, focusing, focus

And I just fall through holes in the mesh.

No tether binds me here.

Life is a bottle in a void:

Pulled in every direction,

Stretched thin,

Kept whole by inertia.

Inertia isn't forever.

Inertia yields to pressure.

Inertia isn't forever.

Inertia falls away.

But I press back on the void

And I force it back, and I hold myself together

And I don't need inertia.

Life is change,

Life is destruction,

Life pares away the weaknesses

And leaves strengths tested.

Life is energy,

Life is movement,

Life is everything.

Nothing else matters.

I am alive. 

Airplane engines roar;
the air is crisp and fresh and clean
on the beach
and the industrial noise is easy to ignore
in favor of the ocean's calming music:
soft and periodic and mellifluous,
though, perhaps, tainted by the jet high above.

Tired

So much for sleep!
As I spend another night
Looking through books and thoughts,
Lost in the miles of my mental mazes,
Lips turned down, a small frown,
Yawn- browse the web,
Eyes sagging tired,
Drag to bed...
Sleep.

Monday Dream

In my dream

I saw my mom’s old Landlord,

A relic of younger days.

Memory furnished a lucid picture

Of His careworn face

And fatherly demeanor,

The towering height that

Only children see.

He shone with a splendid radiance

And I wanted both

To look away

And look forever.

He was crying
With His hands outstretched,

And looking down I saw

In my hands

An orb of blue and green.

“May I have it back?” He asked,

His voice silent yet intoned

In the reflections in His eyes

And in the recesses of my mind.

I looked at it and looked at Him

And looked away

And though I felt the orb

Lose weight

And harden against my hands,

I made up my mind

And I shook my head

And then I said:

“No.”

Sky

In the night sky,
a green tint to the stars
and their light
shines through the haze.
 
Spinning like a top,
the dizzy stars a spiral of movement
and they whirl,
so busy on their nowhere paths.
 
Whirl, whirl, whirl
and I fall down to watch them
and they don't mind
me watching.
 
A bright star-
my eyes entranced-
and it loops
across the sky,
different from the others
somehow.

Rainy Night

the rain falls in heavy sheets
and on the pavement beats and beats,
and soaks into my hair and clothes
until, weighed-down, I wander home,
where waiting for me is no fire
but only the incessant desire
to fly like rain out of the clouds 
and floating down, cover like a shroud
the city streets where raindrops run
until brought up by the midday sun.