Tag: lgbtwriters

Blue Moss Floating Atop Fine Rock Floors

You enter the white city through double doors

On blue moss floating atop fine rock floors.

Gilded wings gliding along gilded winds

When pink skies settle dancing ‘round the bend. 

Smoke gathers out of your mouth as you breathe 

To ease fierce fears fretting that love may leave. 

For fine rocks aren’t solid enough to hold 

Your feet when fleets of waves clash upon the fold. 

When touch is scarce while scares abound in heaps,

Battalions of sorrow as bards prayed heed. 

While you try to hide from plain sight to weep,

There is no escape from eyes though they sleep. 

So out in fog and waiting for the morn

To once again wash what’s feared to mourn.

Tears fall one and two and in the moment, all;

Hoping when the sun shines, you wake to my call. 

---

Blue Moss Floating Atop Fine Rock Floors

March 14, 2023

Onuk Island, Balabac, Palawan, Philippines

Through the Curtains at the Edge of the Universe

I poked my head through the curtains at the edge of the universe and gazed at the nothingness comprised of the microcapsules in which every breath I’ve taken in the past is stored. Invisible to my wondering eyes, weightless, yet tangible. I heard their whispers in the void and found each inaudible save for the words I’ve uttered out of love. And I wondered how many seconds in my roughly 650,000 borrowed hours are left to create more audible whispers before I return to particles at the end of it. 

And in the nothingness, I felt a pair of eyes looking back at me, telling me I didn’t get it all wrong. For somewhere in the now, I’ve peeked into the soul inside them and held it with warmth. That I didn’t waste it all on spite and pain and bitterness. And the wind blew with remnants of every kiss we’ve shared and how they showed me the world past its plainness. 

I wish to take lighter breaths though I know they will inevitably heave with weight at times. But with you around, it is as though they rise and fall effortlessly through it all. 

As I pondered I felt each breath upon exhale being trapped within the void. And I withdrew my head from the curtains, content knowing that it was enough to imagine what life might be beyond the horizon. For here is where we took those breaths…together. No matter the distance in between. 

Through the Curtains at the Edge of the Universe

February 25, 2023

Through This Next Ride Around the Sun

If we turn the Earth
a revolution backward,
we will find ourselves
gazing at the first daylight,
exchanging our first hellos,
unawares
of the several more
we would exchange each day
forward.
And here we are
on the 366th day
of good mornings,
taking us back
to when the skies opened up
their graces upon us.

---

The stars shone fiercely
at the close;
they’ve been watching over us
since.
A sparkle
for every kiss; “Good night.
I will see you when the sun
shines.”
And it reflects in your eyes;
a twinkle so sweet
in noontime kisses
and afternoon snuggles,
turning tears into crystals
we wear as charms
on our skins.

---

That if we so much as step
under shadows,
they can’t but fly
back into the depths
of the well
where they belong.
As this little ball,
the pale blue dot
we call home,
resumes its rotation,
I extend my hand once again.
Will you hold me
through this next ride
around the sun?
Together. Onwards.

---

Through This Next Ride Around the Sun
January 1, 2023

Hallways and Tollways

I want to take you 

back to the beginning,

to when I first held your hand

and kissed you nervously

in that little room

that served as our gateway

to our garden

where we’d disappear time and again

each time our eyes meet. 

And even now,

it still opens up for us,

growing new leaves and blossoms

in places we never thought

could still expand

the way our hearts do for each other. 

---

I will see you in the hallway

of our next abode

where we’d set up tollways

to collect kisses as we pass

each other by.

There will be singing and dancing

the way we did under the moon

to that song’s soulful tune. 

Hold on to me

because I will fly us

to where we shared 

our first cup of coffee

on that hot day,

today as we celebrate

a new moon cycle together. 

---

Come with me;

I will take you inside

the pages

of the first words I wrote for you,

and let me inscribe them

in your heart this time

in ink as old as the moment

I first dreamt of your eyes.

Read them again

next time you’re alone

in a hallway we haven’t both

walked together. 

For I will be there

setting up tollways

when you turn the corner. 

---

Hallways and Tollways

November 1, 2022

A Chariot in the Night

Maybe somewhere
there’s a version of me
that has wings for arms.
Maybe I own a chariot
I can fly in the night
to take us to the clouds
while the world sleeps
and asks nothing of us.

---

In that world
I can whistle to command
the storms
back to the heavens
and fall as little drops
of dew
to cool us from hot weather.
There’d be no floods
for they will recede
before they rise
when they hear my voice
and cower
forever to the seas.

---

And all that color
your thoughts black
will dissolve at my touch
back into the void
where their screams die
and come back as pretty tunes
to make you smile.
But I have none such power
and my voice often sounds
a whisper too meek
to dare to speak.

---

I have only dreams
to wander
where I’m half as strong
as I aspire.
I stand a mere hopeful
in a world where I
can offer nothing grand.
But my hopes spring
from truth
that it’s you I keep
in the innermost depths
of my heart.

---

With I can go
the distance,
a million lifetimes over
and over
to see my journey with you
through.

---

A Chariot in the Night
August 16, 2022

Next Time the Roses Bloom

I miss the scent
of a thousand roses
that bursts from the wall
in your presence,
the warmth
of crackling fire
while rain pours outside
when I hold you
close
until
we’re an atom apart,
breathing
from each other’s mouths,
and the constellations
inside us
warping to burst
together.

---

I miss the glow
of your cheeks
when you see me pass
from one corner
of the room
to another,
sneaking in a kiss
I can’t help but ask
before I walk past,
and coming back for more
until we’re lost
under the blankets
again,
while the world spins
mindlessly
around us,
until we resurface.

---

But hold me
close
in your dreams.
I will step
out of the cloudlands
into your waking world
soon after
I collect the words
I’ve been stitching together
from my heart
that I may offer you
a humble revière
of all the sweet nothings
we’ve exchanged
and will again
next time the roses
bloom.

---

Next Time the Roses Bloom
July 12, 2022