it was you who were poetry,
to me.
when i did not put pen to the page,
it was my fingers that would etch sonnets
across your shoulders, down your back.
my eyes would see the meter
of my affections, reflected in you.
my love,
as if
spoken softly, with voice lit by candle lite,
or boastfully in auditoriums in public address.
it was the haiku on your lips,
soft, warm, and lingering
or sharp, biting, and frenzied
where i could pick passion
from your breath, alluring and foreign.
for it was you, for whom i would keep the hours, of
lamplite and lovers, to practice this, this beauty of
the heart, spoken with the body, the eyes, in concert.
written for you and
i alone.
it was you who are
poetry
to
me.

i wonder if all backs are the same, if they

have that gentle, curve leading up to long necks of swans etched in marble

so that my hands feel like those of creation whilst i run my fingers

'neath satin sheets and kiss the contours of heaven.

i hope, would have to imagine so,

tis that that drives our hearts, stirs the stary nebula of passion

and desire

it was after dinner one nite,

we had gone for drinks and the lite touched your skin gently

as it always did.

we sat at the bar

the tea lites licked the inside

of the glass while we talked and talked.

your hand would brush my knee and you lips my ear.

the music was not that loud.

we left the as the crowd came in from the nite

down the alley we ducked and stole a few breaths from one

another beneath the theatre marquee.

driving home you were quiet, brushing your hand cross my neck,

just watching, smiling as i excitedly ramble and fidget with

the radio, watch the road.

we sat on your couch, your legs cross mine,head on my shoulder pointing, narrating, looking at photos, memories

of when you were a little girl, it was then, it struck me.

the love that i had for you, it came from the look you would give me

secretly with everyone was watching.

it was the child in you, that little girl. it was the innocence , the happiness

of a child in

the beauty of you.

incase anyone is interested there is a written post below the lovely halloween action pic.....brian as andre the giant, his lovely girlfriend meghan bringin the hulkamania to the scene and of course me, your very own eric "codyp" as the rowdy one!

hola people. great weekend. great great weekend. the weather, the activities. so firday i went to happy hour at tiki bar (2 buck miller lites all day everyday) for a while with my pal meghan. had some beers and made names for random people. the bartend was dubbed mc titwitch. she had her tits pushed up to a crazy position, and looked like a witch. hence the name. then there was mc rotten ass, some guy who kept sharting himself. just plain rude, especially for happy hour. so i left there and went to a friends house for scrabble and wine and a fire in the fireplace, first of the season. that was ok for a while, but then my friend and his girlfriend got in a fight, like fucking clockwork. so they went to bed fighting and i played with itunes and fell asleep. woke up and came home, watched notre dame play and win! on saturday and then saturday nite hogan, the giant and i (piper) had another costume party to go to. but we sucked and didn't get dressed up. i felt bad cause the girl whose house it was went all out. it was fun. danced on a table with some girl i just met. well im lying. i have met her before, and we just eneded up hangin out and chatting the whole nite. sunday i woke up and felt like i got ran over by a train a few times. didn't get the girls number, but thats ok. i see her around a lot. best part of the weekend was i had a "blind" date on sunday nite and it rocked. my friend meghan's sister knows this girl from her gym and called meg one morning to see if i was single. so then they set to plotting. the girl was willing to give me her number through the go betweens, and so i called. our first convo was 2 hours. i hate the phone. not a big phone talker. let alone someone i don't know and never met. it went well, so we set a date for sunday nite. meet up for a drink, chat, if it bombs, it bombs, if not well go with whatever comes. it was good because she doesn't live in long beach or anywhere immediately around here. she lives at home about 20 min away. thats good cause if it just goes friends, or nowhere at all, we wont see one another. anyways. so we met at croxleys ale house at 8, and left around 12:30. they were closing up cause it was sunday and we were the only two people left besides employees. it was cool we had a couple beers and just talked about a lot of random stuff. really cute girl. freckles on her nose (big sucker for the irish girls with the freckles) blonde hair (never go for blonds, but its more dirty than blonde) and strikingly beautiful eyes. they are a greenish colour. her smile is lovely, and her laugh is nice too. of course i was witty and charming so she was laughing most of the nite. hahaha...no real awkward silences at all. which was nice. there was a moment of awkwardness when we were parting ways...we both stood there and i was like shit, well ill do something, so i gave her a hug. and we both said we wanted to see each other again. of course i got the text 15 min later....i kinda knew...well no, i was hoping it was coming. the weather has given me an overload of ideas for writing, but i have just been to lazy to sit down and put it on paper. i don't know why, just is that way. i miss haikusters wisdom

odd title i guess, but i was watching the movie before i started this so there. i hope everyone is recovering from last nite's festivities. i am sure most had a good time. i did. went out as an 'ensemble' my buddy brian was andre the giant, his girlfriend was hulk hogan and i was rowdy roddy piper. lotta fun. went to a costume party and then out to the bars. it really should be halloween once every season or something. people seem to relax, open up and let their guard down. work is going really well. crazy busy. i am just trying to learn the job really well so that when the time comes, i will be able to move up. reading a separate peace right now by john knowles. one of my favorites. i have so much to say, but just don't want to write i guess. ever feel like that?

hurtling along the expressway, up from
the south shore of long island
it came into view as i ascended upon the rise
around kissena ave.
first the worlds fair, and i felt as if i could
carry the globe myself.
it was a beautiful sun day Saturday.
and the city had audrey hepburn, and
george peppard written all over it.
it is never tiring, the city, the way she looks.
timeless really.
under the river i went, popping out in the middle
of the quiet weekend noise.
Midtown never looks as good,
as it does on a beautiful fall weekend.
people strolling along the avenue, holding hands,
walking dogs, sitting, drinking coffee
morning jogs.
the pushcarts roll infront of their
vendors along the streets
and i think of pea shooters and intense battles from
a book of my childhood.
i cross the rock inbetween the hudson, the east river the long, thin finger like
rock that whitman sang his praises about so long ago.
and down beneath the other river and out into
jersey.
i leave the city behind, pressing on
into the heart of the garden state.
i day dream of love lost, and love yet
to be found. i dream of dances among
candle lit evenings, alone, the two of us.

love, it is something that is on my mind of late. finding love, losing love, it finding us when we are least expecting it. how does one measure love? is it how many mornings you wake up with your arms wrapped around someone, face buried in her beautiful hair. is it how many tears wet ones pillow in the quiet of nite after losing that person? just a quick blurt, work's going well and everything else is good, strange, on hold, in limbo.

Roger water was awesome! the show rocked. there was only one "lull" in the show i could have done with out. well i am not sure if everyone knows, but i am not a big fan of the current administration. however, when i go to a show, i don't want it shoved in my face that bush sucks. i will say he did bash ole tony blair too, but awww......michigan just picked ND....i gotta go. yeah finish the story later

i too dream of canadian nites
with the quiet hum of american radio
purring over the heaters keeping the windows
from frosting over, keeping us from seeing
our breath in the car.
we pull over to the roadside bars,
stomping our boots free of the slush and
snow, shaking the cold off
our sholders as we walk in the door,
ready to drink, and laugh
and feel the soft hips and cheeks
of rosy lipped girls. with sweet lovey doed
eyes, knowing no more, no less than we.
all ready to dance, listen to juxeboxes
belt out the tunes that are the songs
we will dance to, fall in love to,
discover the wonders of our bodies to.
maybe all in the same nite for those lucky
enough.
the wind of our youth, hitchhiking
from the coasts, cross the prairies, navigating
the mountain passes as the heavy winter
skies clear and the brown moon climbs higher in the sky
cleaning itself off, whiter than the freshly fallen snow
some stand outside watching their breath pass
in the air, cold, sharp as glass, the breath so heavy
casting a shadow neath the moonlite.
the bar door opens, closes, and the smells of smoke, beer
sweat drift slowly out on the sounds of
clinking glasses and racous laughter and bop.
the light from within is soft, muted by the dark ruddy leathers,
the heavy stained woods worn from the coat sleeves
of men stopping off on their long wild rides into frontiers of
the provinces, the west.
these canadian nites are american nites too.
the border, the only thing that seperates the people.
but it doesn't really, cause' the wind skips free, dancing the dervish
of wild lusty youth.