This is What Love Looks Like

Your hand against my forehead by my temple with a cooling towel when I have a burning fever, the soft white sheets that wrap our bodies with the fragrance of tiny purple violets that grow on the rivers edge, when you look at me with inquiry and tell me I am the sweetest person you have ever known,

When you took me to the hospital to have my ankle fixed and waited there all day to take me home in the new car; after another gym incident a repeat of the hospital trip,

your coffee; your tea, and then -

On the misted waterfront by the bridge – across the Seine to the Rodin museum you took off your shirt in the rain and put it over my head like a parachute – we laughed and took partial pictures of the sculptures in the rain, drank wine, laughed some more for good measure,

Talking on the phone for an hour and a half from downstairs to up -

  

giving up days with me while I work on one art piece or another, waiting for me for whatever I want to do, when late August comes; taking me to a cooler place for work or relaxing, remembering what I have been and what I can be, with a look on your face that says surprise and (weather you believe it or not):  saying my continual, changing art and writing amaze you,

Leaving me alone and understanding

No Net 1

No net. Nine bet. Lighting a set; Poet,  

Of the et tu, wild -   yet;  Kick it!

Jammin’ with the crowd, ja – et,

Writing, writing, loud, ja

Poets in the yaya,

Clip in, slip in,

Down to the

Final,

Dot.

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Poem written from 9 syllables and 9 words, 8 syllables and 8 words = Nonet Poem

Luc Bat 1

Moment

The flowers of childhood,

Walking through woods and streams,

Footfall on cool dreams,

Apart from goods and notions,

On blue skies and devotions,

Colors, breezes, motions of trees,

The longing, just to be,

The moment of seas and wind.

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Luc Bat Poem (Vietnamese form, alternating lines of six and eight syllables)

Haibun Poem 1

Early one morning, there was a half-sphere in the sky. It was an effusion of pinks and purples fading into a light blue. This looked like an area of spray paint. To the left was a completely different exhibit, a small area of a few lined clouds. Then off to the right, was another unrelated expression of blue and white clouds, holding their shape momentarily.

within the whole

great differences exist

unlike each other

Story Violence (two you's)

I thought that the pain of leaving you,
Would have been the worst thing.

But I was wrong.

It came like another nightmare –

My right arm numbed,
Like ice ripped from a winter river.
The unthinkable, the unknowable,
Plumed far off like a tornado,
Out from the red box of hell,
Then,
Ripped through my body,
Like a raging animal,
Trying to stay alive.

But then -

Never seeing you again:

My dearest heart.