Tag Archives: Affection

When the gusts of Winter left our teeth to chatter
A friend revived us with the warmth of laughter.
When all else failed and oblivion reared its head
A friend’s devotion kept our spirits high instead.
When life’s terrain grew too rough to traverse
A friend was always there, for better or for worse…

Originally written for a good friend, I share this piece with the world.

He sometimes finds it unbearable to rise from slumber

Knowing well the thoughts concealed at night

Wipe the sandman from their eyes to cumber

A man who asks if love for him will ever reignite

Waiting for the answer the man crawls out of bed

Succumbs as the bombardment of her memory

Ricochets relentlessly around his drooping head.

And the man waits, only to hear a Songbird’s melody.








It’s early Fall, a morning streaked with overcast clouds and a slight fog just burning off into atomic form. It’s a calm morning, no wind to speak of, no whisper of wisdom to give a sign of anything to come; my favorite. It let me think freely with my head on the passenger window peering into an apparent Mobius strip; everything the same as it was before. The same action seekers soaring down the lane on their fixies, same freshie’s starting high school over-dressed, same jocks pushing around the unfortunate few (happy it wasn’t me), same stoners with the same spaced out expressions, same shit different day; I just hope something will happen. Some change of color, or brightness or transparency… whatever; a break in the strip. A change in my life, I need. What it is I’m looking for? I haven’t a clue.

Then I heard my dad shout something from the driver’s seat. His name is Bill. The guy’s got a hair trigger.

Whoa! How is she not freezing?! Look at those shorts. Daisy dukes in October? Uh-uh.” He sighed, shaking his head like any disapproving parent. “Kids these days.”

Wait, who?…” I said, intrigued.

I glanced to my left where he was pointing. I saw her walking across the street towards the school; beige shorts (Not actual Daisy Duke length. Not even jean material. I questioned Bill’s knowledge of The Duke Family), a white blouse underneath a navy blue pea-coat , fair skin, and a gorgeous shade of wavy brown locks slinking past her shoulders. The pure sight of this specter would make even Aphrodite stare in awe.

She carried herself effortlessly. Unlike all of the dreary faces around us, bitten by the cold, tired from a homework load they still aren’t quite accustomed to; she stood tall, unafraid of what High School meant to most teens; a veritable prison. I tell you, she could have fallen down from heaven for all I know. It raised the question; are angels real? Then of course YOU may be asking other questions like… “Is this guy insane?” “Is he on medication?”

Answer to both; technically I’m not insane, but my shrink likes to keep the visits weekly, and my medication on a strict schedule. It’s a long story, for another time.

I thought about the time I’ve spent in Sunday School learning about Heaven, Hell and the power of prayer. Those countless hours learning biblical mantras and eating Styrofoam wafers may have finally paid off. Maybe prayers do get answered once in a while. Or maybe I’ve just been shown the epitome of the female body, only to never see it again. I can’t even fathom the cruelty of that. 

Apparently I was staring away slack-jawed because Bill was trying to get my attention…

Hey, hey. earth to Gerry, come in Gerry” he snapped his fingers in front of me. My daydream interrupted.

Um… yeah, weird. Never saw her before.” Smooth Gerry, real smooth. Bill grinned but kept driving.

My eyes traced her path. I really had no idea who she was but she couldn’t be a ghost; we both saw her and she didn’t appear to be floating in mid-air. Is God trying to tell me something? Is she some holy messenger here to lift my cursed love-life? If so, some instructions would be mighty helpful big guy! I looked to the sky.

No answer; what a damn surprise.

My dad pulled into the parking lot as the girl was walking toward the administrative office and she looked my way; we met eyes for a moment. She smiled, I felt weird. I think I smiled back. I can’t be sure. My facial movements were foreign to me in that space of time. I wanted to be sick, but at the same time I wanted to dance and sing and write mushy poetry for her.

I cowered down into my seat, lowering myself out of view; a much less frightening alternative. It was all too much; how is a teen supposed to deal with emotions he’s never felt before?! C’mon now. And are these emotions real? Or is my pecker just pinging in her direction? Bill considered this type of affection as a gateway to unplanned pregnancies and an angry baby’s mama when the papa can’t afford child-support.

Anyway, I digress.

I felt like a fool though. That is the opposite of what I need: Someone else to think I’m lame.

I took a quick peek, to see if I was in the clear. The office door was closing. I saw her figure disappear behind frosted glass; her silhouette swaying back and forth, back and forth… a lure reeling my manhood in like some weak guppy. My dreams slammed into the door as it swung shut; falling into pieces like Humpty Dumpty but with no King’s horses OR men to reassemble the mess.

Who could she be?” I mumbled to myself; louder than intended. Only now remembering where I was. Bill’s grin had widened from ear-to-ear.

Well little man, it looks like you’ll have all day to find out. Now, get out of my car and learn something useful. Women don’t appreciate a dumbass. Just ask your mother, I’ve been trying to get her to appreciate me for fifteen years.”

Yeah, thanks pops. I’ll see you later. Good luck with Mom.” I gave my eyes a nice roll. Appropriate sarcasm requires appropriate sarcastic gestures: It’s just a fact of life.

Hey now! Don’t get sore on me. I say that with love little man. Just tryin’ to wake y’up”

He smiled one of his ‘lighten up little-man’ smiles. I tried to copy and paste the expression. I probably just looked sick.

I got out of the car and glanced around like a frightened Prairie Dog just in case the specter-girl materialized behind me. She already came out of left-field once.

I was in the clear.

My dad tooted the horn as he drove his puke green (he claims it’s British racing green) ’78 Mini out of the parking lot. It drew a few snickering faces my way, a greeting almost: welcome back to high school Gerry, only three years left.

I walked on… 

So if you think you know me so well

Just say the word, send me to hell

I’ll say hello to your “one hour loves”

At least they had your hand at once


I just hoped and prayed you would

But God does not exist in worlds

Where love takes the backseat

To your callous words.


Yeah just pull that trigger from under my pillow

Watch the life bleed eyes that

Couldn’t look away even if they tried

The neighbors don’t need to hear the blast


So press that muzzle as hard as you can

Until the pillow grazes your hand

Let it rip as it sits on my temple *pow*

End the life unknown. 

Rest In Peace 🙂

Open bar, no one cards.

Drinking my sorrows

Until I’m somewhere,


… Away

In your arms

I lay embraced

Memories race.

You used to call my name

So all could hear

“Aye, Mi Gordito!”

Is here

It’s the first thing

I’d hear.

I never got to say goodbye

That day you traveled south;

Once again…

I never expected it to happen;

I hope you understand.

You’ve made that journey

A thousand times.

I’d no idea God, would make demands.

So here I am, drinking to you.

If I’m lucky, I’ll pass out in a few.

No, here come the tears,

Watch out ladies,

I’m crashing this wedding

With sorrow and beer.

I made a scene, but

I had to do it.

If I held it one more minute

I’d psychologically lose it.

Dry eyes since then

Until tonight, writing to you.

I couldn’t make it through

The first few lines

Without a good cry.

I love you.

For a special artist…

She takes root in some unknown town.

At least unknown to me.

She speaks as if a thousand muses

Invade her personal being

Oozing life and light yet,

I never quite see the same from 

still images baring her eyes.

Darkness accompanies an inferno

In disguise.

Waiting to burst through an open door.

To anywhere but her bedroom floor.

Something keeps her stagnant,

authoring lamentations galore.

She exudes an all-knowing countenance.

Still, so subtle in delivery.

That you can’t decide whether it’s an insult

Or a touch of flattery.

I don’t care to know, for

Her spoken word exceeds the value of gold

It’ll buy anyone happiness

If they truly comprehend what it is

they behold.

A treasure that’ll never grow old