rain in santa cruz

my wife and i recently took a much overdue vacation to santa cruz. this is a poem about that trip.

The rain hits the roof of this strange home

and I lie,

listening,

still, and crooked around

your feverish dreams my love.

 

Is this healing and hurting;

healing?

hurting?

 

...and I am

once again helpless

to do anything but wait,

and stay,

and plant kisses and almost touches

to your mutinous body.

 

Mother nature sings in fog-colored tones.

My prayers strip naked and spoon with your bones.

There is a peace that only pain can bring

as persistent as the precipitation flecking

against glass so clean it is creepily non-existent.

 

There is beauty in the long drawn breath

That is the eloquence of hope…

the intake of silence;

where Tibetan textures weave

weariness, whimsy, and wisdom into

laughs of late night lunacy.

 

Love is not always a gilded thing.

It is rust and charcoal sky kisses;

the talent to tell when to talk and not touch,

when to summon blackbirds on the keyboard

of midnight,

and when poetry can reach between the

pressure points

like fault line maps submerged in champagne.

 

Sometimes just the act of breathing and being

still

beside you is the most powerful promise

my heart can make.

 

The certainty that rain cycles;

that all is music and madness,

and that I will never leave

or forsake you.

 

Tomorrow the sun will glint off the

wharf whipped waves

and we'll eat the best prawns in the world

and watch seagulls take siestas.

 

The pain receding like noon-tide,

We will walk and make conversation with

Sea lions; capturing their lordly laughs

with your camera and the resolution of memory.

 

We'll shrug our shadows to the shore

as lingering clouds play voyeur to our

retreat back to the routine

of our familiar apartment.

Reviews

[Emily B]

tears, you brought me to tears, sometimes I wonder what love looks like, I'm amazed at your words

[Hedra Helix]

Wow dude! Thanks so much for making me owe you a visit this is gooorgeous! this part is f****n flawless, I'm jealous!

"Mother nature sings in fog-colored tones.
My prayers strip naked and spoon with your bones.
There is a peace that only pain can bring
as persistent as the precipitation flecking
against glass so clean it is creepily non-existent.

There is beauty in the long drawn breath
That is the eloquence of hope…
the intake of silence;
where Tibetan textures weave
weariness, whimsy, and wisdom into
laughs of late night lunacy.

Love is not always a gilded thing.
It is rust and charcoal sky kisses;
the talent to tell when to talk and not touch,
when to summon blackbirds on the keyboard
of midnight,
and when poetry can reach between the
pressure points
like fault line maps submerged in champagne.

Sometimes just the act of breathing and being
still
beside you is the most powerful promise
my heart can make."

Wow... again just rereading that. I think its because you were talking so sanely of your truth, though, with the pain there I hope it is fiction. I repeat, I hope parts are fiction, I hope its all just brilliance, or the ability to ghost and record through other peoples, older neighbors, lives...or something.

Anyway, beautiful. Beautiful.

[Robin]

excellent writing !

[holly]

The are phrases in this poem that are verbally seductive: "My prayers strip naked and spoon with your bones", "sometimes just the act of breathing and being
still beside you is the most powerful promise
my heart can make." The simplicity of the words only emphasizes the longing and powerlessness you are painting. Very nice read - thanks for that.

[Gandré]

I missed your poetry. As always full of powerful metaphors - which are yours! You are always your own original, you are the natural selection of talent and genuinely simple.

[April Child]

"when to summon blackbirds on the keyboard
of midnight
and when poetry can reach between the
pressure points

sometimes just the act of breathing and being
still
beside you is the most powerful promise
my heart can make."


This is beautiful, just beautiful. The connected kind of love that asks for nothing except 'being'. You really captured it here, brought tears to my eyes.