Category Archives: Love Quips

The Things She Does Not Know

Originally written on August 8, 2016.

There is a woman. A strong, beautiful woman who knows so many things.

She knows the passion of her heart. She offers it in her words and shares it in her eyes. She stands tall against the tide of time, softly protesting the sincerity of her truth while gently holding onto the sanctity of her innocence. What a marvel she is, a candle held against the new-moon sky, a note written on a sheet of paper that completes a maestro’s symphony.

She knows the strength of her weathered mind. No force of nature bends her knee, no ill-intentioned heart corrupts her sweet intentions.  She’s ridden the mighty waves of the past, and has yet to surrender to the shore. A humbled man cannot know such things as she, he can only try fathom this wonder that stands before him.

Yet, for all the things she knows, there are many things she doesn’t.

She doesn’t know I sit in wondrous silence, basking in her light. She doesn’t know I see her nestled perfectly on a distant horizon, rising gently with the songbirds, reminding so many a new day has dawned. She doesn’t know that I exist, for I am but a star on the other side of her own rising sun, unseen in the light, anonymous in the blue-and-orange hued morning sky.

She’ll doesn’t know how the wonders of the world are lost to me when she stands before them. She doesn’t know how all else is forgotten when she smiles, and how I’ll never be able to explain the reasons why.

She doesn’t know how hard it is for me to catch a breath when she shares herself, or how I force myself to forget her in the placeholders that I find. She doesn’t know so many things, but I know one. She exists. That hope, that wonderful feeling discovered in what seems like an insane notion of my mind, may be the only gift she ever gives me.

A gift she has no idea she’s given. A light she has no idea she’s shared. These things she may never know, but she doesn’t have to. Sometimes that is just the way things are meant to be.


A Goodnight Wish

I want to say goodnight to you in the way my heart prescribes. The way I always should. The way I always will.

Look at me, my love. Hold my hand. Kiss me in the way you want, demand from me all that you may need. Do not hesitate to issue such commands, and never forget the moments I could only pray for this kiss, and all those times I stared at my empty hand, wishing yours was there.

Let me love you back, in the way my heart demands of me. Let me hold you tightly in the flickering flame of our candle, following the music of our souls while reminding you that once you needed me and did not know it, and once you called for me and did not know my name.

Put your head on my shoulder, the shoulder that would carry you through hell if need be. Fall into my arms, the arms that were made strong to hold you steady when your knees buckle in the night. Taste my lips, the once uncertain lips which have now met their destiny.

Hear my words, words seldom issued in this man’s life, oaths uttered to you as a vehicle of truth, and nothing more. Hear my silence, the subtle gaps left between the gasps of our ecstasy. Lend your ear to my chest, place your hand over my heart, to feel the strength of all I am, and all I am willing to give to you.

Each night I close my eyes knowing their opening is not guaranteed. Each night my final words will be those promises once made to you in my solitary darkness, and they will be whispered in your ear before we sleep. Should these be my final words, I will have lived my life to the summit, and will have departed knowing I have fulfilled my greatest dream.

Now, I will find my night’s cocoon, climb into it…and say you name one last time today. It will be my goodnight wish that I have a chance to say it again tomorrow.

Goodnight, sweet love…

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When There Is Nothing I Can Do

We all know the feeling. We see her, our knees crumble. We hear her voice, our hearts begin to race. She fills our minds with her thoughts, her fears, and her dreams. She occupies our thoughts, inspires our intentions, and raises our frequency to levels we rarely see.

We all know her. She is beautiful, and her eyes make us swoon even as we try to keep our composure. Her mouth makes just the right curves when she smiles, and her image sends us flying into the outer edges of our Universe. She sets the bar, and we will always seek to meet it.

I know her well. I’ve talked to her countless times about many things, some meaningful and some benign. She’s inspired words I’ve etched words into the fabric of my day, and give life to inspiration that have brought many to tears of joy. My god, there is so much life to knowing her, and so much a truth to the utter sense of all she is.

Yet, there is nothing I can do.

Sure, I could be the bad ass in the room and feign indignation. I could act like I don’t care, that the moments we share have only the slightest meeting. I could tune down my intensity, resist my own desire, and pretend that her wine has a bitter taste, and her words a shallow impression.

That’s silly. There’s nothing I can do.

I could be “the man”, and act like she doesn’t matter the way she does. I could hold back on the strings of truth I send in her direction, the pearls of wisdom I give her as a gift when we converse. I could do so many things…

…and then I realize, there is nothing I can do.

I can’t make her run to my open arms no matter what my version of truth may be. I can’t make her call me in the middle of the night just tell me all her pains. I can’t force her to do a fucking thing, and for that I am grateful.

You see, there is nothing I can do.

That is the way it should be. I should adore her where she is, regardless of the tears that well up within me at our distance. I should honor the spaces where she struggles, despite my want to carry her through the smoke. I should smile as I always have when she finds her loves, be there when she has her pains, and let her know that there will always be someone there when all else fails.

Wait, perhaps there is something I can do after all.

Despite my story wishing things were different, that for once a heart was in tune with mine, and that the timing was perfect for a resurrection of my hope, there is always something I can do. I can accept the pangs of hurt, of remembrance, that whittle their way through my flesh and change my point of view. My truth is not a universal one, and there is no one who need ever hold my hand.

In the meadow where I go, in the brook that bubbles by my ears as my eyes shut to see the Universe, I realize a certain truth. I am a lover. A hard-scrabbled, complex, rough around the edges lover. All that I can do has already been done, and now all I can do is, well, nothing. Except that something.


photo by: Lel4nd

Another Letter to Her

I’ve written to you a million times. Some words have made it onto stone, while others have been left in the ether, I hope blowing in the winds heading in your direction. I do not control the currents, yet the bottles I have cast into this Sea are meant for you, for the hopeful union of our time, our space, and our journeys.

Through the moments I have cared for you, my heart has been its purest. Though my secrets live and die with you, my intentions once hidden now exposed, the purity remains. Though my own insecurities echo in the chambers of my mind, my heart remains steadfast in a certainty of its own. My soul knows, and I feel no compulsion to disagree.

I can see the crumbled mountainsides of my past, the debris of time strewn all about the roads I once traveled. I can see the smoldering ruins of bridges I have burned, and of the remnants of the places I once played destroyed by the sacred winds. What I once saw as destruction I now know as rebirth. What I once thought was disastrous I now know feels beautiful. What was once death is now alive, and life itself has taken on a meaning all its own.

I tell you things I used to whisper, and I whisper things I used to keep deep within my soul. I’ve watched you through the peephole and stared at you in the sky. I’m not sure where I am going, yet I know every step along the way has led me here. I’m not sure where you are heading, but if I but have a moment’s breath to smell your fragrance, I will have lived my life for real. I will sit in that space with you, inhale your scent, and live with the memory forever.

There is a depth between us, and a depth that surrounds us. I can feel its eternal bottom, and I know the truth of this reality. What seems crazy to the mind rings true to the heart, and the chills felt  and the sighs heaved speak a language of their own. I’ve heard them, I trust them, and though my mind sounds bells of insanity, my heart beats remarkable oaths to the promise of this moment.

What am I to do but share with you this truth? Who am I to turn to when the pulsing of my heart calls your name? To which voice am I to obey, the one within my mind or the one within my heart? I want to carry you through the smoke, drive a hundred miles to change your tire, hold the space and time you need while never letting you forget the depths to which I’ve risen just to see you smile.

One day, as my hopes and dreams are played where I sit, words will be used but be unnecessary. You will feel my fingertips raise bumps upon your back, and you will know. You will feel the power of your hand in mine, and you will find the truth. You will falter and I will carry you. You will call for me and I will come. All that you have sought, that’s been seeking you, will be found in me, and I will be found within your arms.

Hopes. Dreams. The sanctuary of fools, the monument of the insane. Let me be a fool. I have nothing worth being sane for. I would rather wake to you, get your coffee, hold your face in my hands, and kiss you with the rising Sun. Sanity seems a darkness in which I’ve lived too long. I wish to walk in the light of craziness!

Yet, the reality. I sit and breath in the realm of the conscious. Yes, I will wait as I have. Yes, I will be here when your cracks are whole. You are not alone as you face those beasts, and if my blood is spilled upon the soil where we stand, a beautiful garden will be born. If the wind is taken from my sails, I will build my home upon the sea.

Goodnight, my dear. I will write to you again. I promise.




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Happy Birthday, Dear One

There was a time when you were but a hope, a dream. Some think that marriage is a sacred union, but in truth the most holy of unions is at the moment of conception, that moment when a man truly becomes one with a woman, when the hopes and dreams of two humans unite in one form all to her own.

Like some tiny pebble, you were created. There you were, a bundle of humanity exploding within the womb. Like a dim light soon to be a rising sun, you sat in active stillness waiting for your moment. Like some wonderful promise made to the Universe, you became something from nothing, a universe all your own.

Like some enormous stone splashing into a finite sea, you were born. A tiny spark became a big bang, and the world was given a glimpse into what was to be. A dream was born into a babe, a babe into a woman, a woman into something poorly defined by words.

The words “happy birthday” are, to some, offered in passing to note the day you were born. I wish to offer them intently in honor to the dream, the promise, and the reality of you. You are heart that bleeds into the ether, onto paper, and into my heart. You are a kindred spirit in the creativity of beautiful things, a passionate soul given life in a beautiful form, and a wonderful human being set forth on a beautiful journey.

So, “Happy Birthday”, and thank you for being born. Thank you for living, for your experience, and your future. Thank you for the gifts you give the world, for the little one who graces your own life in a way you share, and for the happiness you bring so many. Thank you for your service to others, and for bathing us in that splash that was your arrival.

With much love, I offer you this piece of me, to that piece of you that knows.


So, Together We…

I sit in stillness, allowing what comes to come. Finally, a phrase sets in like a mantra I’ve been longing to hear.

What do I see before me,
In those calming seas of blue?
Some angel came to sign a song,
A song that we both knew.

So together we…

Wait, this is such a foreign concept to the soul confined to solitude. Awash in a sea of people, bathed in the unique bonds of friendships and the sordid details of a single man, I’ve stood confined to my own brand of solitude. I’ve put my toes in many wonderful ponds, and basked brilliantly in many beautiful sunrises, yet alone I lay dreaming of a day when the whisper is real, and the feint breathing I hear is something other than my cat daring me not to move.

So, together we what?

Do we  hold hands and skip down the weathered path, singing that song only the two of us know? Do we kiss passionately as the evening falls, awaking early to repeat the messages of the night before while ushering in a brand new day? What is it we do, or should I never ask the question?

I struggle to make no assumptions, though the timely visions come rushing in my head. I’ve made that agreement, the one that bears no expectations nor grants any assumptions, so where do those visions come from? Spliced together like a long-lost movie, I see the very things I’ve sought take form from the very moment I saw her face splashed wonderfully across the ether.

I sit with this vision, passing no judgment except the smile broadcast brightly on my face. This is no assumption, and I am creating no expectation. I simply see what is there, and what is there is the answer to the questions I’ve been asking, told to me in the manner that I’ve seen most things of beauty. I don’t create as others do, or so I’ve been told. I simply see, and hear, and translate things that others may not see. What I see here is all that’s I’ve ever seen, save the mist now taking form in a manner of truth I can only sit back and observe.

I feel a wave lap lovingly on my beating heart, its spray gently washing my skin and its chill reminding me of how beautiful this contrast is. I can feel the goose bumps rise all over my naked form, touching me in places I’m rarely touched, in a certain way absent from the journey I’ve been walking. My spine straightens on cue, and my crown reaches for the spaces where I’ve always felt her touch, where I’ve always heard her voice.

Beneath me, rises an objection. Fear, that snake whose head I’ve often tried to crush, speaks.

“Are you sure? What tales of truth can your spirit tell to prove such insanity?”

“Please,” speaks my heart, “let this cup pass. Yet, let thy will be done.”

The Master simply sits, and the feeling I have learned to trust remains.

“So sure am I,” said the Master to his heart, “that I have swam across an ocean and moved a million stars just to find a space to meet her.”

“So sure am I,” said the Master to his fear, “that I have borne a thousand scars and carried a heavy cross just to hear her sing one word.”

A tear rolls down my face, the light is born within me. Uncertain of nothing but the moment, expecting nothing but the present, and assuming nothing but the wave that bathes my soul, I stand in peace before my altar.

So together we will walk, in the way that we shall walk. Together we will see, in the way our souls will see. Together we will feel, in the way that open hearts will feel. There is nothing else we ever need do.

photo by: Dino ahmad ali

The Simplicity of Such a Complexity (Letter to Her)

I have seen the future…and behold those pools of blue, the sultry waves of your smile, the nestled heart I feel beat in our tightest embrace.

There are no missions left to the simple man. I see, with as much simplicity as I can muster, the complexity of emotions when in the grasp your beautiful gaze. There, the purpose of a life reborn into simple terms takes a turn. There, a man finds himself, renewed with a vigor and a purpose, one that requires he love a woman regardless of the outcome.

Yes, I’ve seen the future, one possible outcome of a million potential stories. I’ve walked with you, hand-in-hand, over a million miles in my mind. I’ve kissed you throughout eternity in my dreams. I’ve held you countless minutes through countless storms and awesome sunny days in my heart. Most of all I’ve given you all you need and you, in turn, have shown me all I could ever be.

There I am…a misty form in one of many dreams, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck as your body surrenders into me. There I am…a man who has finally been realized in a one, true love. There I am…a simply man lost in hopeless complexity, or a complex man lost in absolute simplicity.

My life has never been one of shortcuts, of easy routes to the top of anything. So I wait, hoping beyond hope that you’ll finally lean your head against my shoulder, look up at me, and know you are right where you belong.

That’s all. A simple request in a complex world. A simple union of two hearts, of two blocks of marble molded into pieces that fit by the complexities of time and experience. We can share a simple kiss. A simple word. A simple, light touch in just the right place. The simplicity of all I’ll ever need to know.

Things like that seem so simple, but can be so complex. Things like that end up being so complex, but end up so simple. It all works out, the way it should, in its time. Yet, I’ll love you just the same. I’ll seek the best for you. I’ll carry you anytime you need to be carried.

That’s love, as I see it.

Until You Ring Again (A Poem)

Like I was some forgotten beginning to a long story,
A footnote, an unheard plea.
A long forgotten memory.

Her voice...
Like an echo returning to its home,
I smile, awakened in this time.
Such music, I know her somewhere else.

I know her...
Somewhere else beyond this earthly bound,
I feel her in the mist
In the sweet scent of springtime fields.

I've felt her...
Somewhere between my first life and my last
She's been the constant,
The very nectar that brings me home.

And in the darkness of absence,
A light, her sweet sound,
Jars me back to life,
Although she seems resistant to such things.

So an empty drop of sweat,
A silent moan, a long-lost whisper,
A forgotten time brought to the living
Once again...

I falter, 
Wanting to hear her song, 
Wanting more in a pitch she will not sing,
I feign tone deafness in this folly.

So, I say hello
In each and every goodbye,
I know somewhere there is love beyond the stars
A ringing truth in every heartbeat.

Until you ring again...
May my heart sing true your name,
My mind bring blue to this sunny sky,
My body stay strong to its course.


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A Testament to You (A Sweet Awakening)

∞ Love [15/52]My breath is still gone, having escaped my body at the very sight of you…

Yes, I’m captured, bewildered, sunken in the sweet sands of adoration. I’ve fallen, softly landing on the ground at your feet, looking up as if gazing at the Sun, blinded by the light of something so very special. As I stand, my feet embrace the soft ground where you stand, and I know I am where I am supposed to be.

It’s not new. This energy has coursed through my body each and every time I’ve seen you. Every new moment is a testament to something I can’t explain, something I can’t describe. Waves of emotion cascade over my powerful form, taking the energy of time and experience and replacing it with something so much stronger, so much different. It’s as if I am remembering a lifetime I can’t recollect, living a dream that I know I’ve had before, yet can’t remember when.

I study the lonely clouds that swoon in the dark blue sky. I feel the light summer breeze tickle me, and share a moment with the Sun as it warms me with its touch. I feel alive in this moment, soaking in the power of each second, the potential of each minute, and the glory of each hour. I look up, again, in the direction my heart demands and there you are, smiling, reminding me of something I have no real memory of.

But the feeling…it’s there, and it’s real. 

I don’t know where it came from. I have no idea why it’s here. I just know it is very real, and the more present I get in the moment the more real it becomes. I don’t care about man-made obstacles. I don’t care about the rules others have written. I don’t care what “comfortable” feels like. I just know what is there, what is here, and I know I have very little control over its demands. It leads, and I must follow.

So, if you will have me I will take you. I will stroke your hair with loving hands. I will kiss your lips with an eager mouth. I will taste your body with unequaled desire. I will love you until you are spent, and then love you some more. Then I will lay with you, in the completeness of a harvest moon, and I will hear your words, embrace your thoughts, and absorb ever morsel of you that is offered.

I will see you naked and unashamed, and you will feel desire only insatiable emotion can provide. You will dance in the memory we share to a song we’ve written long ago until the moment picks us up again. Then, our sweat will again mix, our sounds echo through the empty caverns of our lives. You will know the liberation of a love that goes beyond our flesh, and you will fly in the realization that the wind loves you, and only embraces you to lift you upwards.

So, please jump. Let go and fall. I will catch you, and your landing will be glorious. Rest your head on my shoulder when the tired times come. Hold my hand when the idea rushes into your mind. Kiss me when you need to taste your lover, and then take me to the gates of ecstasy. There, will break those gates to pieces, and share the spoils of sweet surrender with the stars that guide us.

You ask me what I see. I see the power of happenstance. The power of possibility presenting itself like an unopened flower in the fields where you stand. I see the shedding of mortal ideas, replaced with the shroud of divine immortality. I see a tree not knowing itself until it touches the Earth, a bird not knowing who it is until it finally jumps and kisses the sky. I see you, smiling in a way that innocently sets my body on fire.

I feel you in my embrace, held tightly by arms made strong by time and powerful by desire. I feel you sink into me and let go, knowing that what is wrong to man is right by something much, much smarter. I feel you take me in your hands and guide me in, and I feel you filled with something only I can give and only you can take. I feel your flood of fulfillment, the release of my intention, and a sweet awakening showing itself in a bluer sky, a softer flame, and a harder stone on which we carve our names.

There we are…perhaps. One of a million possibilities, one straw in a haystack of potential. I can hold that single strand of hope tightly, or let it go in the winds that surround me. Either is a testament to you, and either is worth the risk of being wrong.

Wrong. I laugh at the suggestion. To which mind will I bow to that suggestion? To the one who clamors for security in an illusion? The one that creates rules to keep a beloved in a cage? Or the one that roams free among the imprisoned?

I like the rules of the rule-less, those who are built around a sense of discipline where words are never spoken and time is not a guide. Can’t we make a home there? Can’t we roam those spaces together, devoting ourselves to an inner truth not written by the hands of other men?

In the truest sense freedom is a testament to you. In the sacred sense liberation is the sweetest of awakenings. Taste it, live it, and never wear those chains again.

photos by: &

Smile, Please Smile

In the throes of some created despair, I watch her struggle. She is oblivious to the world around her, absorbed in the essence of suffering and living the lie so completely that all joy has escaped her face.

That beautiful face. I can image her smiling, and I can imagine my own smile in return. I can see her eyes light up with passion, and feel my own response as her full lips turn upward in the moment. I can almost hear her laugh like a song sung in forever’s chorus…

“Please, beautiful lady, smile. Find it, please, let it out. It’s all going to be fine, I promise.”

“You have no idea what I am going through,” I hear her respond.

“I know. I can’t imagine what it is that would keep that smile from rising. I can’t fathom the pressure that turns diamond into coal, that creates powder out of the strongest rock.”

“Don’t start with me,” I hear her say. “You can’t understand, you don’t know me.”

“I do know you,” I reply. “I’ve seen you dancing in vast fields of joy, playing with the flowers that light up the soil like stars in the sky. I’ve heard you laughing at the nothingness you’ve sought, felt you surrender to the dew that wipes the day’s dust from your feet. I’ve seen you tend to your wounds, and I’ve felt you make your way toward the Sun as it makes its way across your longing sky.

I’ve seen your prayers turn your knees red with angry retaliation. I’ve heard your sobs in the darkness of night, and I’ve felt your body heaving under the strain of really nothing at all. I’ve felt your tears run down my back in our embrace, and I’ve felt you leave a million times before this moment.”

“But…but I’ve never met you…”

“I’ve met you a thousand times in your dreams. I’ve seen you grasp at the enormity of what you see as failure, and I’ve seen you run toward the storm rather than face the uncertainty of sweet aloneness. I’ve watched you shackle your ankles to certain doom, and I’ve watched you clip your wings instead of using them to fly. Freedom scares you, and owning yourself in ways beyond the teachings of your masters makes you insane with fear. You fear losing the knife more than you fear the pain of cutting yourself.”

“How? You don’t know…,” her voice trailing off into some thought she would not share.

“You are me, sweet lady. I am you. Our fingers play the same strings, our voices lift up the same notes. I don’t know you as much as I know me.”

Then a kiss. A sweet, gentle kiss. Strong arms hold the fragile, powerful legs support the crumbling. Love is found in not knowing who has the strength, or who is the one falling to pieces. They are interchangeable and neither knows itself outside the fact that both stay standing, or both stumble, almost at the same time.

“Goodbye, beautiful lady. Hold me dear until we meet again, in some other form, in some other way. Please, I beg of you, smile. Just find something in your soul that sets your face ablaze. Go there, and fly.”


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