Where We Reach

by M. D. Friedman

- for Mariamne

the light of my soul

Thanks to all the artists who inspired me and graciously allowed the publication of my various representations of their work. Thank you also to the Loveland Visual Arts Commission and the Loveland Museum for permission to use my photos of public art and museum displays. Plus a special thank you to Tom Katsimpalis whose articulation of his insight into the creative process inspired “Echoes of Tom” and whose artwork inspired “We Fly.”

All Photos & Text © 2005 by M. D. Friedman

Please contact md@poetscoop.org for permission to reproduce.

Table of Contents

Section I: Threats of Love

i wish now

i wish now

i was with you

under this moon

as full as my anticipation

i want now to be

skin to skin within

your arms again

emptied of my desperation

as if our lives

between had

never happened

freed of regret

would that i could

have known then

what now i know

and we again first met

alone in this darkness

I begin to pretend

the same moon

rides your night

strong and fragile

as the eggshell

moonlight

i reach for you tonight

forgive me

I must warn you

I have been thinking of you

absorbing joy from you

breathing you in

like the sleet that glazes the petals

I am dangerous for you

you see, I keep wanting

you in the darkness

not just soul to soul
I can’t separate that other

the desire of lip to lips

that passing ache

of skin brushing skin

the lingering harmony

of the thick spring fog

nurturing the unfurling leaf

please forgive me

Variations on William Carlos Williams

Variation #1

I grasp you

like a wheel

holding on

as you turn over

and over again

as imperfect

and sweet as a plum

how I cling now

to your skin and how like you

I am shining in my tears

like a new born

dripping with the dew

of my birth

suddenly it is you

that lifts me

from this cold

dark grass

that drags me up through

the whispers of our humus

it is you here again from somewhere

that whirls me like a fragile dream

a cameo in stained glass

spinning through the clouds

into the sun-bled air

now as I let go

Variation #2

this is just to say

that what turns you

lifts me

that what you were

saving for breakfast

I have already eaten

that what matters

has past and all that is left

is an empty box

there never were

any chickens

nothing is white for long

The Question of Lovers

Walkin’ by myself I hope you understand

I just wanna be your lovin’ man

-- J. A. Lane (a.k.a. Jimmy Rogers)

these hands that peel me now

from where do they come

dry as fire

their fingers are not mine

nor their warmth yours

not any I am used to

I live in my own world now

a glistening globe of halo

each night my weather changes

as I toss, I turn, the clouds shift

like the pillows beneath my head

never quite right

I know little

of these yearnings

that strive to pull me down,

my soul in knots

cramping up in resistance

like an arthritic fist

I know little

of these reaching flames

that sear a lonely

beauty into this night

my skin hisses from the hot friction

of foreign fingers brushing over me

I know little

of the busy bakers

who kneed

my hurt out

like raw

dough

I know

these hands

all mean

well and their

hot thick touch

is meant to heal

they are all

reaching now

to bring me along

to warm me

in the fiery oven

of their caring

I pull

myself

forward

hand by hand

in a chain

of becoming

this bright night

twinkles now like

a dark eye

that flows

with fiery

tears

all around me there is a flickering light

sleep is impossible

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