Mirrored Stares

Tracing constellations with our fingers

pointed up towards the twinkling sky


wishing for shooting stars to tumble down
so we could make wishes and wander


to the places where they crash landed


only to find that they have lived within us




Dreams that can't be seen, tasted, or touched


just entangled in the fibers of our hearts
each beat bringing them closer as we grow

kinder and gentler than we thought possible
as we fly kites under the shadows of the sun

tracing whispers of a love carved into stone

Knowing beauty lives behind mirrored stares

eyes meeting in the middle aligning souls

of perfect partners with their fingers interlaced

with bodies pressed together in warm embrace

knowing that a forest sometimes burns violently

only to recycle ash into mighty trees once more

Freefall

They say that true love
only comes around
once in a lifetime

but, how many lifetimes
do we live until we find
that moment where the earth
and the heavens meet under
intoxicated stares and the warm
embrace of heart pieces snapping
into place to form a complex puzzle
illustrating the perfectly told story

When the moment finds
us do we remember past lives
and lovers placing fingers
to parched lips  and then
pointing into the light

to guide us into the familiar
and the terrifying wrapped up

in a tightly knit package with a
beating heart that drums along
as we freefall into the emotions
and the memories that defy logic

Stone Bench

Sitting on a stone bench
writing into the sky
with fingers that drip with paint
in all colors that scatter
mother earth as she shelters us
and wrestles the stars in the darkest
depths of space and time

Lessons Learned in Lebanon

I've seen destruction in the ashes of a burning building
watching sacrifices go up in smoke and flame
while a she devil laughs through her sinister silence
walking out the crumbling doorway to move next door

These are lessons learned in Lebanon

I've discovered a face I never would have believed existed
not that long ago when I shared a room with something
I believed was stronger then the red cracked bricks
that were exposed to be holding up the house we built

These are lessons learned in Lebanon

I've realized that all it takes is a single moment to change
the people we thought we knew better then the back
of our own withered hands as we held them together
to pray for miracles to sprinkle the fields of uncertainty

These are lessons learned in Lebanon

I've watched as the red dress that fueled my passions
and drove my words with such hunger tore itself on thorns
made of glass in a rose bush that held the blackest flowers
destroyed by the silhouette of an insensitive selfish soul

Flawless

Your face is utter perfection
a picture so perfect that I could get lost
in between the dribble of dense dreams
and the bitterness of an expanding reality
when it hammers down with such fury

Your face is the ocean so deep
holding abundant life in the depths of eyes
beyond sublime, beyond a masterpiece
amber pools that reflect my soul back at me
when I find myself floating in a nebula

Your face is the joy that drives the beat
to a worn out heart, the survivor of battles
that left scars that have yet to fully heal
and the tug of strings to an instrument
that I have always played, but never touched

Your face is the temple that holds the secrets
of a golden goddess, and the lips crafted from
the finest silk, all the while your hair flows
in a hundred different breezes, and your ears
and nose remind me why time is precious

Your face is the warmth that soothes me
during the vivid nightmares that stalk me
as I lay awake in the shrill cold of night,
and that also greet me each morning when I
gaze upon one of God's flawless creations

Rooted

I am a product of the events that have shaped my life
molding me into a fragile figurine constantly tested
with the light blows from a hammer striking my psyche
trying to find cracks in a profound imperfect creation
letting out anger in short bursts unwisely and unfairly
as a diamond grip tried to contain a bubbling explosion

but,

I am thankful for the moments
that rattle around upstairs trying to trickle
their way downstairs in the depths of emotions
hiding under the shade of the mighty redwood
in its everlasting majestic nature rooted to the earth
never wavering its commitment to the forest

and,

I wish I could tell you how refreshing it is
to smell crisp air again in the seconds between
the breach of gold across the horizon always painting
a perfect portrait of bliss beauty and amber hopes
onto a tattered canvas of a phantom's education
firing off into the distance waiting for us to catch up

and,

I now know where the dirt strewn road leads
as I walk into the depths of a scenery I never knew
was possible, and only seen in the wisdom of elders
who walked this world trying to remind us of reflection,
radiance, and repentance in the heat of the devil
as he battles the better angels of human nature

The Giver

I tried to be the giver and be true to a selfness nature

so I opened my heart and I allowed a canary to perch

in the most vulnerable of spots, and I whistled along

as she sung her song at the break of each dawn

I guess what I fed her wasn't enough, so she flew

up and away into the breaching sun ever bright

ever punishing with its warmth, never eternal

only found in cycles of cosmic calendars

I tried, I really did to admit my flaws as a person

calling out to the bird to return, and perch once more

but self awareness wasn't enough so the perch lay empty

devoid of any song and siren with a scar yet to heal

So I give myself to the future of my progress

always shifting always in motion working for colors

that have yet to be named, but found in northern lights

walking the desert with the intent to find simple treasures

If

If you were to put the cold moon in my left hand
and place the burning sun in my right hand
I would find myself balanced between madness
and the strange feeling of a broken heart
trying to piece itself together with twigs and twine

Volcano

I walked with a swagger like no other
thinking that nothing could break
the bond we had forged through the years

I guess I failed the college course on love
because sometimes it does take it's toll
in the nastiest of mud slinging and punches

So the walk was abruptly reduced to a slow limp
leaving a near cripple trying to cleverly outrun
the violent eruption of a once dormant volcano

I guess the cave that appeared in my path
was only temporary shelter from the destruction
that our minds and mouths tried to warn us of

The cripple became a paralysis of the heart
as it beat out night terrors that cause cold sweats
and dreams that always end in confusion

Simple Men, Fallen Angels

Fire bleeds out manifesting itself inside such simple men

but there is nothing simple about a damaged broken soul

trying to find the picture frames void of any glass

that now lay scattered and shattered around memories

that were once the sweetest nectar, but have become ash

Tears pour from the faces of blind children left behind

in the burnt forests of their simple mountain home

while a dark dragon breaches the sky lighting

love and redemption with the fury of a thousand suns

reducing the beating heart to a stone that cannot be carved

Lightening flashes across the sky as a storm brews

churning the ocean into a vicious pattern of mighty waves

that try to reach the moon and hold her in their embrace

whispering fables and fantasies that we use to believe

as children hiding under the covers afraid of monsters

Sadness grows in a garden that was once abundantly green

with songs of emotions so true to their deeply buried roots

that entire orchestras could play them forever and never hear

a single sound that emitted from the hands of perfection

that could only be compared to one of God's fallen angels

Needle and Thread

I walked the earth
with anger in my heart
like a deep splinter
puncturing the very vessel
that held my love for life

I was leaking unaware
that I was losing myself
drop by drop as I spilled
onto the surface of the sun

I tried to patch myself up
with a ragged cloth and tin foil
but failed utterly in the act
almost bleeding out into the ocean

I walked the earth
until I found a true doctor
able to take needle and thread
to patch the painful rips
and return emotions to perch

White

365 days ago the landscape was white
covered in thick snow soaked in passion
waiting for the bass to strike our cores
shaking worries and doubts from hearts

We held hands and laughed with the night
as it slowly crept into such old friendships
like a perfect joke told hundreds of times
but never losing it's charm or it's warmth

We danced and two stepped as the lights
moved with our breath and synchronized
beating hearts telling a never-ending story
where an angel lifted a battered soldier

365 days ago we carefully explored Earth
finding her deepest points and highest ridges
with eyes wide open and tears of happiness
watering the gardens of our old souls in love

Maya

You are unconditional love at its finest
and it pours from your little face freely
reflected in loving eyes as you approach
with spirits held high and a heart wide open

You are joy when life batters us with tears
always warm and eager to embrace
with such energy that fills empty cups
until we can drink no more and smile

You are the companion we all hope for
a loyal and unflinching friend in dark hours
with a stare that can melt winter's frost
to bare new flowers in springs birth

You are a gift sought out and delivered
with paws perfectly placed on our souls
and kisses that break iron forged gates
leaving cuddles to soothe fresh sorrows

You are the symbol of a dream so deep
caught between your tail and playful barks
mixed with cherished walks to remind us
that a king is nothing without his queen

- For Maya (Happy 2nd Birthday. I miss you.)

Blessings

Blessings run deep in the hearts of men
who plant seeds in the damp earth
and watch over them through storms
and droughts that parch the earth bare

Blessings remain wild in the souls of children
who have innocent minds pure and perfect
always cracking smiles in wonder and bliss
in on the secret we forget as we grow older

Blessings live deep in the threads of hope
a reminder that the darkness brings dawn
even when we lose faith in ourselves
and question the pain that twists our spines

Blessings swim with the tides of beauty
ever present in the people we dearly love,
cherish, and hold close in times of need
so we never forget how fortunate we are

Where Are You (Weyneek)?

You are wherever love flows

a mother who has given everything

to provide her home grown flowers

light and shelter that is always soothing

You are wherever strength is born

inside the heart of the oldest cedar tree

with a base that no earthquake can shake

and leaves that smell of a happy home

You are wherever kindness grows

amongst the ancient stars that flicker

above the streets of Beirut with affection

and below the warmth of the Mediterranean

You are wherever beauty decides to fly

soaring through the hills and villages

of Lebanon, always returning to nest

in the lap your children once slept in

- For Aida

Bitaro

I seek the sounds of angels in an asylum

Moving pictures in a still frame capturing
intimate feelings and ragged emotions
staring into the eyes of an ancient goddess
singing the songs that once played unadultered

Youth held in the palm of a sorry giant
once so mighty and now withered to the bone
used up and hurting in the birth of winter's snow

Bitterness so sweet it flips the heart
inside, outside, always beating
toward something greater then love and life
always yearning for the gentleness
remaining behind in puddles of salty tears
only to be reborn as vibrant sunflowers

Second Chances

I was slipping into the darkness
sitting on the edge of the fence
bickering with the grinning devil and the angels
that circled my mind with hands outreached

I can't remember the conversation
but I remember the sun cracking the dark
and the sky flashed bright and bold
exposing amber eyes watching me

I remember staring lost in oblivion
and the darkness returned crushing me
under the fist of depression and despair
as I slowly sank once more into the abyss

I was lost for what felt like a century
wandering the icy cold trying to find warmth
drinking from poisoned rivers and vomiting
and the sky flashed once again bright and bold

I recall the sun breaking free of her chains
followed by the love of your smiles and touch
and the voice that guided me to the surface
as I pierced the crisp air of a new dawn

Letting Go

I am letting go
like wilted petals falling from a flower
onto the wet grass of a foggy morning

Goodbye for now
I hope your journey brings you joy
and an ever present smile

I am letting go
like the river's end falling
over the edge of life's waterfall

Goodbye in the moment
I hope you are loved with tender
feelings and gentle dances

I am letting go
because my heart loves you
like the poet loves his dreams

I, Dream

You say I do not have dreams, and that I am realist
but, nothing is further from the truth
I have always been a dreamer writing the dreams
held by my mother and carried by my father
into the space that makes up my simple heart

I dream of finding my way to the motherland
the place that birthed my father, and the adventure
of exploring India in all her exotic beauty and poverty
giving us the perspective that we need to wake up
and realize it's the poorest who carry the warmest smiles

You say that my dreams are not vivid enough for you
but maybe you haven't been paying attention
to the ink that flows from my fingers as I scribble
fears, worries, hopes, wonder, happiness, and visions
that always included you by my side, and no one else

I dream of the future, bright, content, and solid
held together by the woman I will one day marry,
the permanent home we will build for ourselves,
and the laughter of our children filling our ears
as they grow into people we can be proud of

You say I am not a dreamer, but you are mistaken
to think that dreams are of no consequence to me
when they are the very thing that has driven me
from the darkest depths of pain into the blinding light
of love, life, and legends that reside in my muse

[Sometimes dreams are for fools....]

It Might Be

Wouldn't it be nice
if the world provided each of her children
the luxuries we find in marble palaces
and on flickering movie screens

Wouldn't it be easier
if everything was handed to you
on a silver platter with a golden spoon
made of God's dreams and man's desires

Wouldn't it be simpler
if we didn't have to sweat and carve the earth
with bare hands sometimes broken and bruised
with dirty bandages holding everything together

It might be
but they say the sweetest fruit is that born
out our labor, love, and grown in a garden
fertilized by hardships, struggles, and defeats