Longest July

Empty arms hold a world

defined by memories and explored

inside of a dreamplace.

There,

where vanity answers no valiant question

but family yet holds,

inspiring moments grow wings.

Also,

it will fly past along side them

if Love is not King and Keyring.

For this fare

guilt is an aftertaste.

However savored

the clench and chew

is only, was only

shallow.

The summer

and with the sea

have taught me this.

In spurts it sprays;

misting its forgiveness in fragrance.

The lofts

of Discipline and Faith

hold my charge

Steady at the helm

beneath a high moon

headed home.

What It'll Do

Looking for letters. First names. Because writing is too sacred for sinful hands. A moments redemption cost more than a moments attention.

So he’s talking now. Because I’ve nothing to say, And silence won’t suffice.

Words themselves die on ice, and breathe fire. So I cover my mouth when I caugh.

Poets are prisoners. Their cells the wide walls of Babylon blank and deep. Their lives are prayers heard only inside dreams keep. And they find solace in the journey to and from sleep.

A world within a few cubic feet, and all but no release. Water for wellness. Quarters for brand coffee, and whiskey to pay the devils toll. Prideful and assumptive. Lost in control.

Story teller story teller, ain’t you got no role to play? Ain’t you got no hole to lay? I’ll take it! And he stole the day. Smoothe into the dirt, like a mole in clay.

Pay no mind, ‘less my pockets get to jingle a little bit, or find and cue the cumbersome to tickle your pickle dick. So funky sweet how the fabricated air skeets on ya face. It can be arranged, this kind of meet and greet. And the keyboard doesn’t even have buttons to delete. But when it’s all over, better hold on to that receipt.

One said love is for those that believe in it. Yet what of those in which love believes? Hunts and tracks down sure as it breathes. Steals without warning with its band of honorable thieves. Thrives in the lives of the trees and the green leaves. Needs not permission to move. Claims any and everyone it shall so chose. Even those with woes, and who owes of the blues. It catches them toos.

Corners will shrink to fit the ego of man.

His world will break as he’s allowed his spirit to be. His Earth will forsake him as he did her.

The MasterTeacher does not offer pardon for the vengeful. It is not available to the disobedient.

Hear yourself. Heal yourself through humility.

Yet time is an illusion, and my watch a prism.

Find me lose me. Sweep me keep me.

Suai & Moscatel

Sweet ferment ravish

Tongue lavish that turns the lights off

Then I go down

All the way

to the switchboard to turn them back on

Careful though, for how long

Mole over the left, right?

That night

sitting in a glimpse of the moon

I was her first

Lips as grapes, I remember the taste

We sat

Black and white we'd face

All a distant fragrant memory

reliving itself in a dream

Hair sprawled out beneath me

Long brown lashes beseech me

to do the same

Lioness be tame

I know your name

Set my loins aflame but

never shall I proclaim

as others have of your fame

Nor you of mine

But hold I in your mind forever

As was my destiny

to give to you

Which mystery shall be solved

before my heart has resolved?

Yet another beauty

for my eyes to fall for

that makes my wrist

crawl on all fours

She with dark and light in spite

or her who's seen me since then

and steals me at night

when my sight is set

on seeing more than wrong or right?

Bent, knelt down

and delivered to her

as I did on her first

Sweetness to greet my thirst, or worse

My, what's written

and yet lies on lines

Basting as I'm tasting

such damn good wine

In Love With and Without You: Scene

“Didn’t I say I was tired of looking up and seeing that you’d written some song or poem or piece about me? It’s getting old Michael.”

“You did. And yea, I know. But so…what? Because you asked nicely I’m supposed to stop being inspired by you??”

“ (lol) YES!!”

“(heh)…guess that’d make it a whole lot easier…for YOU huh?”

“Well it sure wouldn’t hurt!”

“(lol) It’d hurt me! I’ve tried,… To actively NOT think or write or sketch about you. I’ve managed a good deal of success with that too! It definitely helped me to open my creative mind back up to the world outside of romantic love and what that can inspire and bring out of me.”

“…and that’s exactly what I’d love to see you do more of! Sure a girl loves to be the subject of a song two, but I don’t wanna see you waisting your talent on me….Not that the stuff you’ve written about me is a waiste :) …But your perspective needs to be articulated on everything you can! Not just love.”

“I know. I know. And I’m working on it. Promise. ‘workin on it!’ (lol)”

“Plus, you’re gonna look up and be real sad when you finally realize it’s over, and you’ve done all this stuff about one person that you’re not even with. One person? ONE subject!? C’mon! what kind of resume will that read like? You wanna be well rounded so that the love pieces will stand out!”

“(lol) Why do I feel like this is all a ploy to ensure that the stuff I’ve done on you will remain the greatest of it’s kind? What are you REALLY up to huh??”

“Heh…Me?!? YOU’RE the Master Manipulator remember!? (lol)”

“….You know I hate that shit.”

“I know. That’s why I said it. Besides, I’m still not quite over you lying to me for the better part of a year. I really did feel like you completely mind fucked me man. Like, it’s all still pretty sick that you were even able to do that. Let alone to me, the one you claimed to love oh so much. Love doesn’t do what you’ve done. And don’t bring up all the shit I’ve done. None of that justifies your lies. I was always honest with you. However ugly the truth was, at least you got it up front. Wish I could say the same for you..wha…Why are you smiling!?!?”

“….Cause…You’re really cute when you get to monologing about how shitty a guy I am. Especially when I already know all that you’re gonna say. You get yourself worked up so easily. It’s the cutest thing.”

“….I’m serious Michael!...”

“Wha!?...No seriously, you think I don’t know?? Why do you think I went outta my way to try and come clean!? It doesn’t feel good knowing how deep I went with it all. And frankly…I’m still dealing. Today.”

“Why? I forgave you didn’t I?? …Let it go. You shouldn’t walk around with that on your spirit.”

“But I do.”

“Well don’t. I mean, move on man! Go date! Swoon! Get laid! Write about it! You’re free! No strings. No…girl hundreds of miles away to feel obligated to call or be faithful, but not really, to. You’ve got a lot of good going for you. Go enjoy yourself!”

“You think I haven’t been doing all those things?? I have. I told you. I was actively moving on, and it was working well enough….But you don’t just wake up one day and DECIDE you’re ‘over’ someone. There is no such thing as falling out of love. Not if it’s true! …..There’s BEING in love, and then there’s KNOWING you’re in love. And neither of those necessarily require the participation of two people! Which is why all those guys from back in the day wrote about unrequited love, cause they ass was in love alone!....S’gotta be a sad state of affairs. I mean, I can’t really identify with that tho…”

“ heh. Oh really!??”

“Drop it! Just cause you wish you didn’t love me doesn’t make saying you don’t any less false.”

“Sure I love you Michael. I’ll always love you. Just like I’ll always love David, and Marcell, and-”

“-Fuck them, and fuck that. Don’t even give me that shit. You know what I mean.”

“(lol) For all you know I could be in a committed relationship, and you’re sittin’ real high thinkin’ you know somethin’ about what I’M feeling.”

“Well…Are you?....In a relationship I mean?”

“Hmph…never know.”

“See!? THAT’S the shit I’m talkin about! Cause even if you are, you’re still here with me eating this up. ‘Oh he’s so pathetic! Why won’t he just get over it! I wonder what he’ll say next…”

“What if I just enjoyed flirting, eh? Wasn’t it you who always told me flirting can be sooo innocent?”

“…Yea ok. You got it.”

“Michael, listen. I’ve told you, I forgave you. Really. It hurts sometimes when I think of what could’ve been and all we did to mess that up…well, well mostly what you did….but it’s cool. I’m cool. And you’ll be too. I’ve said it and I’ll say it again. I have no intention of being with you again.”

“…Well, what ‘you’ are you talking about, cuz…ya know I’m a different me than I was even just twenty minutes ago, ya know?? I mean, Neo wasn’t the one till the END of the movie when he could see the numbers in the air n’ shit?....JESUS didn’t even start telling people he was Christ till his ministry, and that didn’t begin till he was like thirty som’n!.....Not trying to liken myself to Jesus or some futuristic digital world war savior, but, I mean…you know what I’m saying (lol)….What if it IS you, and if it IS me, it’s just that our time hasn’t come yet?”

“….That’s kind of far-fetched, don’t you think?”

“Not really…”

“Hmph……Peace Michael. Take care of yourself.”

“….Pray for me!?”

“God can hear you just fine.”

“Does that mean you won’t pray for me??”

“No.”

“….(then what does she mean!??...)”

Pride Before the Fall: Short Story to Preface the Scene

…The waking moments that greet our young LoverThinker on this day remain full. Of the recollecting of the dreams he’s just returned from. The Boat and the sea on all sides where his little sister vacationed with a cad. The Gotham skylight window of a top floor hotel room, where he and his father fired round after round at floating perpetrators fleeing the wrath of the righteous. The Forest pathways that hid the desperation of his thievery. Yet in a minutes worth of blinking and bathing in the breath of a new day, all that captivated him were the words that he could not yet discern to have really been a mistake to have typed during that select conversation the day before.

He could not have known, nor did he expect that she would be available to chat when he and his companion made their somewhat religious trip to the internet café up the hill and around the corner. On the walk his thoughts wandered. Would they make it to the beach again soon? For the sun was high and hot that day and he could feel his skin under the sweat browning yet. Going on a tour of the cedars riding ATV’s seemed like the most appropriate thrill to spend some cash on, but how could he convince his pretty patron of that much when her spirits were leaking in limbo? Her beauty accounts only for so much, but it sure helped days go by faster. Casual conversation continued in spite of his ambitions, and soon screens saw them sit.

Typing, he found out not long ago, felt like playing the piano, and so he enjoyed signing on and logging into the various sites where his fingers had championed user names and passwords. He jingled his digital keys not before fiddling them in his hands knowing which door each opened. Gmail. Facebook. Twitter. Blogger. YouTube. Who’d be there? Maybe someone would have replied to a message or wall posting, or commented on one of his videos, or the drawing of the girl and the flag. Most often there was none of these. Realizing and expecting this much, he spent a second being sad about it, and then reminded himself that he enjoyed being the most underrated over dog, and commenced to log in.

Gmail. Username: MyklHanna. Password: *********. Inbox: Jennifer(me) unread!? STOP! HAULT! PAUSE! DISINGAGE! SIGN OUT! His sunken stomach found its way out of his cargo shorts, and once his vision came back into focus and feeling came back into his fingers a chuckle filled the chamber of his mouth, and rolled off his tongue. What could she possibly have to say?! Why would she send him a message after all that was said in the last!? Was he really that surprised that she emailed him still!? Was he already overreacting to what was probably nothing close to being as serious as he was making it!? Then the chuckle returned. Suddenly he felt like a pale faced Keanu Reeves sitting on the olive seats in the desert of the real while the black man’s booming voice spoke humorous revelations too simple not to understand.

Twitter. Username: MyklHanna. Password: ********. “Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.” Tweet. Sign Out. He inhaled deep and quiet, and continued his log in rituals. But after retrieving what information he needed elsewhere, he returned to the inbox where the unread unexpected message awaited his reply.

And reply he did. Swiftly, and punctually, addressing each concern and query she posed to him there. There was a poignant tone in both of their texts. Very practical. And yet he’d read into what wasn’t said. Her words and requests in and of themselves spoke that she still thought fondly of him, or had some need of his help, urgent or otherwise. That this was proof that even if only a tear drop in a vile or a flasks worth of experimental data, there was a longing that existed somewhere in her being for him. And this much made him smile. But of course he could not afford to indulge in such foolish assumptions or over analyzations any longer than the time his face had already stolen. Yet no sooner did he send what he believed to be the perfect reply did moments later she’d appear like the lyric from his song still ripe in the air from being composed not two days past. His cargo shorts weren’t interested in company at that time, so his stomach just fizzed a little. Neither did his eyes nor his fingers wait for his mind to make some cold insensitive judgment call, and without delay double clicked her username next to the green circle indicating she was signed into her account as he was.

He began the dialogue in disbelief, asking if she was indeed available to chat, anticipating her signing off without reply, or in fact stating that she was not interested in a conversation with him. But it seemed she was. These anxieties did not have but a moment to fester before her small talk took him over.

They typed back and forth about the content of the email she’d just received from him, and she told him of her new musical explorations and those that assisted her. The banter slowly became more friendly and a might bit flirtatious as they inquired about and suggested attractive counterparts for each other. Yet as sex entered the dialect, he found himself apologizing for excessive questioning, as she searched, looking for more telling responses. Tipping on tightropes no lies were told, yet how much truth was revealed neither of them could truly feel. But that this was felt was the truth unspoken. The yet lingering mistrust and disgust she felt for him salivated the guilt that arose on the same tongue he skewered her with. The same hungry tongue that hadn’t yet tasted redemption.

Before he was rushed off the computer and out of the café back around the corner and down the hill, what found him is the same that woke with him today. The same that sat with him and poured into a fanciful scene he’d illustrate of he and her. One that he could picture as vividly as the green circle next to her username on yesterday. Perhaps this was his opportunity to reenact what he wished would’ve happened, or what he thought he should’ve said before he left their dialogue. Before he’d realized that the conversation became his testimony that he’d realized she’d said nothing in response to. No interruptive exclamations. No affirmations or even any comments of disdain; just a farewell. An empty and ever interpretive goodbye that cued the playback of his heart vomit.

“Don’t kid yourself for a moment…I’m still very much in love with, and without you.”

How pathetically poetic he typed these words without thinking, showing himself in a way which was of course already supremely visible. How recklessly romantic he lowered his shield to the swing of his own sword. How cheaply chivalrous was the accuracy in his profession. A prince and a pauper all in the same.

Forgetting whatever words that followed before her farewell, likely in a similar fashion as the ones that haunted him home, he found his focus enough to enjoy a meal and the laughter and good company of his beautiful companion. He dismissed her from his thoughts, and felt encouraged to continue on as if to have passed through a revolving door maybe too long before exited through to the other side. Although she’d find him in all the same places, he’d gotten accustomed to telling himself he allowed her to. And so that evening it wasn’t as difficult to sleep as one would think it’d be for our heart stricken LoverThinker. But when he woke up on today…

Holiday

"American Woman! Stay away from me! American Woman! Mama let me be!"