once was and still is

i was thinking just now of ice and how
ice was water and ice is water
and
i was thinking how water
changes
from water to ice or i guess also
to water vapor but i was really
focusing on ice because
it’s winter and it’s sleeting outside.

anyway

i was thinking of how ice
is but also was water
and vice versa
as in, let’s say

i had a glass of ice cubes and
they melted
while i was out of the room and
i entered the room again and
i might say
‘huh, i had a glass of ice
and now it’s water.’

i guess what i’m saying is
i think it’s kinda neat how
a thing can remain itself
while still becoming something else.

i was probably younger than i am now

once as a child

i was walking along the shore
of a north carolina beach
and i saw a kite
someone was flying
so very very high
and i never had the
patience for kites because
once you get them up there
they just kinda stay.
there is this initial

thrill of a rising action

and then lots of

just being there.

well, i might have missed the point
because the kite
rips into the wind
the wind
and the kite
remains.

i would like to be a kite.
i have always had the rising action.
i tear myself from the earth
with the best of them.
i would like to stay afloat

roaring above at great heights.

yes.
and i will need someone
to help hold my twine
so i do not fly away
and

to brush the sand off of me

if i do get clumsy and fall.

sea level schmea level double beet level

sometimes i feel like sea level is a myth

what the hell is sea level

and why the hell does it matter

to me, i live on land,

anyway,

maybe what i mean is

whatever my level is

is you

because i am always running downhill

and the moment i level out and

feel myself calm and at home

is you.

‘i wonder if Love wears bedroom slippers in the evening’

one of the many things
difficult about writing a poem
about love is how alike
love poems look.

2nd person pronoun verb
article superlative
noun first person pronoun
adverb verb
, most likely.

i guess part of the problem
is that words on a ‘page’

be it in a book or browser tab

always look like words on a page.

and love, well
she’s a mover and a shaker.
not only does she rarely ‘look’
like love, it can often be difficult
to identify her at all.

i am changing a dirty diaper – chore
i am changing you, sweet girl,
so you don’t get a rash and because
you cannot yet do this for yourself – love

a miracle, i would say, that two things can be
one
but anyway, i’m digressing.

i want to write a poem
that shows the love i see
in you
and it is impossible.

maybe, darling, that’s because
how you love is impossible
beyond what should and should not be
as if mountains could also be
the roaring sea at the same time.

your love is a miracle
because it is who you are
it is your breath it is your skin
it is how you move, and so
you do not even realize,
i think
how powerfully you love.

anyway,

your love matters.

it matters to me,
it makes me better,
it is the kind of thing,
your love
that makes the world
well,
it is the kind of love that makes the world.

it gives me hope
everywhere else
that a love like yours
exists at all.

your love shakes the earth
with quiet steps.

i hear them
i feel them
thank you for being,

- yours.