Long Whittles Poems

You know, it is rather difficult to discuss mental health  
The simile of the racing thoughts is a swift flight 
Swift, and Intrepid like an Arabian horse,  
Sometimes, too hard to decipher, even....

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Am I the only one to think
that a kite is such a sad thing?

Flimsy...frail...
never really free,
forever tied to a string

Yes, it can soar indeed,
so high, with the wind taking it places,
almost making it forget,
just enjoying...

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Buried deep between the cracks,
a photograph from yesterday,
I hold it now, within my hand,
as if between the hills and hollows
a childhood bond that we once borrowed
can take me back to days of old 

Who am...

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Argentina's son, a lineage to immigrants
shaped by boyhood aspirations 
diminutive left foot striker
taunted "dwarf" in childhood 
his growth hormone deficiency 
              ...

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The old man still burns wood in his fireplace 
But he doesn’t cut it from the forest anymore 
He buys it from a friend of a friend of his 
And they stack it outside his...

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~ for Sami ~


oh ...
a pity, that …
such sweet sadness, yours
my lovely lass, lost ...
do not let your lip tremble so ...
it was not made for such iniquity
it was not shaped to
sublime bow-like grace to
be...

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it   hangs over her bed

              s
            w
  ...

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the tempered veil of years with a weave of sweet and sour
can be lavish like the pleasurable return of good deeds
take what you learn from sky high places
       ...

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Am I the Eve in your garden
The offer of forbidden fruit
Or is it my imagination
Tossed out like yesterday’s news

Am I the taste of desire
Still burning on your lips
When you try to sleep at night
And into...

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The cedar dock splinters out to the moon's shine
Like the second hand ticking along
A white-faced clock
Drawing in loose boats and green moths
To its sweep of time

Is there any difference
Between those little dots of cabin lights
Strung...

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Following the homeward trail by heart
Carefully eluding every puddle
My footsteps start to quicken
Knowing soon the path would part 

Forewarned to never venture near
 The fork leading to his lair
Oh, the lure of the forbidden
Curiosity whittles...

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They shared their wine in grief to hear
The homage of the day
One giant dead, all others cast in fear
Their mischief moon gray
Spun and weave each spite with venom
For I the acme, and the languished sum.

What...

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It's fall and trees are turning brown,
they beat small and swirl in the air,
wavy, curly, crimson, blonde, bare.

Life's gold ring slightly free to drown,
around a bright world went dull gray,
in hope of having one more...

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Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.

In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.

The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A...

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Bedsprings crochet bones together.
His back is sutured to gripes
stitched to gummy joints.

In the toilet, avoiding the mirror,
humming softly,
shunning conversation with himself -
the ceiling drips a sump of memories.

The park --- Frances revolves confused.
"I don't understand."
A...

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Eve dresses the night to Dawn's scorn



At the other side of midnight awaits Dawn
Watching over the night waiting for her turn
Dawn whittles the time for Eve to begone

Moon and stars dance to night's drawn
Eve's presence...

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Hours nibble at a back strain.
Tenuous strings were pulled
lifting water bottles.
You wonder how weak and fragile
you are. How vulnerable to 
these ancient red tides within
that can bend your iron like plasticine,
turn you into a crooked...

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I don’t want to die,
the spring doves cried.

Down the streets and coffee shops
each step in the pavement whittles it down

bit by bit. I don’t want
to die, the flyers say,

through ten layers of
broken staples, of

missing pets....

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Souls standing in line
As the world pulls out its knife
To whittle them down 
Carve up their lives

Does it have an idea
An insatiable need
As it keeps whittling
On them endlessly

You do have to wonder
What it truly sees
As...

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Wings of fear flutter nightly in my heart,
a terror-taunt haunt that whittles my thought;
the brutish fist bruise-blackening heart-art -
my past-smashed man, wars in your head thought-fought.

The confidence you chip and slow-whittle;
brittle wing-white bone china hurled...

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As the queen of the night,
               the lamp blooms 
           ...

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I have never been in love
Just felt its shadow
Swaying in the moving sky

Its breath falling upon my neck
Lulling me into a false sense of security
All logic whittles down and dies

My little existence
Erupts such sorry anthems
From...

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