Thanksgiving Poem

Thanksgiving Poem, loaf of breadThis poem was written by my partner and lover of 9 years, Ralf. Though english is not his first language, he always had a way with words. (he is German) His spirit taught me so much about attitude and perseverance. He is an old soul. Though we are no longer together, I believe we still have a connection. I am honored and gratified to have been his lover. Thank you, Ralf. With love, David

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends out there. I hope you have warm, smiling eyes to gaze into and laugh with as you break bread together on this most universal of holidays.

Thanksgiving is a moment to remember
How little we can do to move the stars.
All we are and have we must surrender,
Nor is Earth less inscrutable than Mars.
Knowing this, we know the need for friends
Sharing both our pleasures and our pain,
Giving, though it may not serve their ends,
In joy the love that will our love sustain.
Very much like water in a lake,
In sum we serve as mirrors to the sky.
No one alone can heaven’s picture take.
Given friends, we know the reason why.

by Ralf

Touch My Soul

Touch my soul and it is yours.

(It is never
mine.
Fire eating
snakes nip at my nipples,
unzip my fly,
bitemy mosquito)

Take my hand.

(Filling their mouths, drinking
mother’s milk, they
queue up at my statue.)

(It is not theirs.)

Look into my eyes.

(Then
Quantum
leaps
over a hedge,
falling flat
on
my back.)

What is yours?

Kissing me is not…

…the answer.

Touch my soul and…

…it is ours.
Take your bow.

Siegfried Idyll

Riesling Grapes, Siegfried Idyll
Go and be the breeze
whispering over grassy
silk waves atop verdant,
elegant hills. Rest there
among the familiar tales
of sun ripe Riesling grapes
pearled along the plunging slopes
of castle views over river Rhine.
Go and taste the resilience
of Teutonic history, rising
and falling against the maelstrom
of Viking invaders. Go and
rebuild from scratch what you
know is good and right. Dwell in
the fecund soil of steady passion.
Find skin by the wind.
Find fruit in your heart.
Taste the lambent anodyne
smiling through
sweet, golden wine.

This goes out to my crushes. You know who you are.

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The Arch

Held as if by air
The arch falls toward
Itself in a perpetual dare
Against gravity’s weight,
Transforming that burden
Into its own stout might.

Would that democracy learned
From such converse strength.
So, backbone to backbone, barred
Over emptiness, iron will
Of truth might defy the
Abyss of political ills.