The Grand Risk

And I said that if they don't
then you will
leave...
but I knew that the truth doesn't
break
down so simply,
because there
at the breaking
and in the moment of
retreat
the tale of the steps you took
and the hearts that
meet
are lost in the blur of the 
momentary.


Before the smudging
of present sufferings
there was love and
hope
smiles and
laughs
and eventually
those things that will last on
into life and memory. 
And we look back
and see
and know
it was worth it to
go past this 
flickering hesitation. 


Go past this and don't
build those comfort walls
of fluffy cells
in the cold institute of your 
self-embracing solitude. 
Go past this into that
grand risk
of a heart open to 
greater loves than this.

My Choice Draught

I’m inebriated on life

And all it has to offer

I keep taking big gulps

—Coughing, spluttering, spilling—

Rather than sips and swallows.

There is so much music

Sights, smells, things to try

Tastes to taste

Feelings to feel

Thoughts to think

There are so many books,

Sports, jobs, games, skills, responsibilities

And the people!

The people!

There are so many of them

So many of us

So many stories,

Tales of families, sorrows, joys

Of evil, good and all that’s between,

Friends, acquaintances, lovers, and all who could be...

Why is it that so few will touch my life?

So few... and so many...

I am drunk on presence

And thirsting for presence

I vacillate between extreme loneliness

And a desire for solitude

But the people

I wouldn’t give them up

I wouldn’t go sober

For while they kill me, enrage me,

Love me, challenge me, seduce me,

Question me, inform me, teach me,

Learn from me, touch me, strike me,

Enable me, analyze me, judge me,

Forgive me, kiss me, speak to me,

Destroy me and rebuild me

I know that I would not be me

Without you.

Let us get drunk on our presence

On our very being, and that being

Together.

She of the Rainbow

I dreamed of her in shades of grey

Mixed jet and pearl and slate and cream

Upon my canvass her to stay

My rainbow shade; my eye’s fair gleam

I dreamed of her in black and white

Mixed paint to stain false memory

And thought I painted all that’s bright

Not seeing my poor mimicry

I dreamed she was all framed but free

In lands not green and blue alive

Imprisoned there alone was she

In my dark head I thought she’d thrive

I dreamed in sunsets of her grace

In reds and yellows that did fade

And did not catch upon her face

That gift of glory there was laid

I dreamed in palettes overbright

But never finding the right tone

Violet, orange, pink weren’t right

They all became a monochrome

I painted dreams and nightmares too

To try and find her somewhere there

To mirror that one and only who

That did my bleary eyes ensnare

But when she walked across my way

And broke the image in my view

I saw that all my shades of grey

Were not the rainbow’s truest hues

She lived more vivid than my dream

And glittered far against my clouds

And all I brushed to me did seem

Deluding ashen shadowed shrouds

Reality is where I’ll go

To see and draw just what I know

I will not try to bring down low

The hues above in the rainbow

Solitary

I am a solitary man. Alone, trapped, with only my thoughts to keep me company.
I am a wandering soul. Traveling, tearing at roots, floating untethered.
I am the silent one. Voice boxed in my voice box. Its dark prison is my mouth and my teeth are the bars.
I graze by lives, never connecting. Lightly alighting upon many never resting, never staying.
Like a dandelion seed blown in a dry land, I wander aimless.
I want to know more than gentle passings.
I want to experience more than a light touch.
Don't we all?
We are all floating like blind fairies in a gale.
Fate's wind throws us where it will.
We brush by each other and crash into one another.
Stay.
I want you to stay.
Right here by my side.
For a minute, for an hour, for a day.
Just tell me where you are.
Show me who you are.
And I will come there and grasp you.
And maybe short roots will form.
Me to you, you to me.
And others could come.
Her to you.
Him to me.
And we could form a chain.
Not a net or web; thin and easily broken.
But a chain of lives connected, connecting.
Supporting, binding.
A chain of lives growing around the globe and filling it with hope.
I will hope.
Maybe one day we will do more than brush mutely by.

- F.L.