2002Jan12 (Poem)
[no date]

Musical vibrations of organic rhythm
Not the hum of diesel engined
Where is my love?
Tribal chanting and primal sex
Who is my love?
Is the distant call so far away that
I have tuned out her screaming now?
Does she know I am waiting?
Is she looking?
I cannot search anymore. I saw her
In everyone. I rode the train to
Hell and back, legs clacking as I tripped
Over the ties that bound me to the
Earth. I’ve heard the sounds of metal
Grinding into dirt and pressure
Valves releasing – not at all like
The gasp that will escape her
Lips when I touch her or the
Silent friction of two bodies
Lubricated by sweat. I am stopped, now
Standing, tired of losing what I
Have for what I want and still not
Having her. I am looking up, now.
I stare at the clouds where the sound
Of falling rain is made. I gaze
At the stars that seem to somehow
Coax the crickets out of hiding.
And I see the moon that calls out the
Whole orchestra of nature. Is she
Up there? Does she hear my heart
Pounding, the drums of thunder coming,
The hope in spoken words meant to
Conjure up her loving? Does she hear me?
Does she hear me. Is she listening?
I break down the peacefulness, start
A fire, create explosion after
Explosion – running home with one
Foot after another stomping on the
Ground like a toddler trying to
Say I want you to catch me. I
Need attention. Now! I speed up
Until I’m exhausted and try to sleep
To the gentle song of unfulfilled passion,
Quietly sobbing please.