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It’s raining…
let’s have a threesome!
You, me and Clive Christian
in the back row of the Capitol.

Give me exactly seventeen deep breaths
against the nape of your neck –
that forbidden space
seen by all who meet you,
but known by me alone.

Ronnie’s boy;
or the girl scooping popcorn,
they don’t know the scratch of your stubble.
They’re not held captive by the mineness
of iris and amber.

So, take your seat
away from the smudged reflection of tail-lights,
away from the scent of petrichor and noodles,
and allow me aspiration.

Come, Lover,
let’s have a threesome!
You, me and Clive Christian,
in the back row of the Capitol.

This poem first appeared in the Tales of Dominion Road anthology.

Grab my hand and take me somewhere new,
For my broken heart aches for deliverance,
For I am dying to feel your sweet embrace.
Kiss me beneath the blood-tinted skies,
As the world seems to be crashing down.
I need you more than you will ever know.
I need you to undress my deepest fears.

Hold me close, let your warmth melt my pain,
As we dance in the shadows of forgotten dreams.
Whisper softly, tell me it’s all right,
That we can rebuild what’s been torn apart,
With every breath, with every touch,
Revive my spirit with your gentle love.

Take me to a place where time stands still,
Where our souls can intertwine and heal.
In your eyes, I see a future bright,
A beacon of hope in the darkest night.
Wrap me in your arms, let the world fade away,
In this moment, let’s create our own forever.

For in your embrace, I find my home,
A sanctuary where my heart can roam.
Your love is the light that guides my way,
Through the stormy nights and the weary days.
So, take my hand and don’t let go,
Together we’ll face whatever comes, just so.

For I am yours, and you are mine,
In this dance of life, our hearts align.
Kiss me beneath the blood-tinted skies,
As the world rebuilds around us, anew.
I need you more than you will ever know,
I need you to undress my deepest fears,
And in your love, find solace, true and clear.

swallow me
put your lips to
my skin
soothe your
sandpaper
throat

wet your tongue
with mine
sip from my
eternal pool
at midnight

let me drip down
your face and
rinse your brain
with something
cold and
fresh

think of me
when you
smell the ocean
when spray
kisses your face
asks you to
come home

by the sea
bottles sink
bodies float
on bubbles that
hold the secrets
we share
when we
can’t sleep

we drift
beyond the shallows
let your mind reach
foreign isles and
deep lagoons
lose your bearings
for a moment
drink

tides will always
pull us in and
lead us home

you’re right:

i never dreamed of this and
it took me too many years to
find the words to say it.

you: the wet door jamb to which partial leaves cling.
you: every pinon pine i’ll ever smell again until i die.

i told you to turn my ashes into a tree but knew
you wouldn’t be around to uphold my being eternal.

you: the cloudless white desert,
the last night on land,
the tallest tree on the planet.

I’ve heard about love in a poem,
I’ve heard about love in a song.
I wish I knew how to love,
Because I’ve been doing it all wrong.

What is love?
Where does it go when it’s gone?
Have I missed love?
Was it there all along?

I know anger dissipates like steam in the air,
If managed properly, it won’t leave your knuckles bare.
A broken heart heals if given time,
But it seems that rule doesn’t work for mine.
Sadness, too, they say, will fade,
Along with helplessness and being afraid.
A cut bleeds, but stops with pressure,
And won’t get infected if taking the right measure.

Is love meant to disappear?
Is it meant never to return?
Does it lie somewhere dormant?
Is it waiting to be earned?

I’ve read that there are many types of love,
But only one of them is true,
When you find true love,
It will come without a clue.
Before you find true love,
There are trials to get through,

And if you really want to find true love,
Here’s what I wish I knew:

First, you must get past heartbreak,
Trust that you’ll make it through.
Endure the love that’s fake,
And the tears that will ensue.
Learn from every mistake,
Or the mistakes will accrue.
If you learn to be patient and wait,
One day, true love will find you.

I had only read about love in a poem,
Only heard about love in a song.
Now I know how to love,
Because I’ve learned from doing it all wrong.

I want to sleep.
My eyes droop and fail to stay open.
Their weight is more than my will to be awake can battle
I want to curl into the ever-warm cloud
That is my bed when you are in it.

When your arms pull me in
My body feels comforted and loved
Your presence brings me peace again
So I can finally rest

Without you there, the warmth is gone
It feels more like dry heat
Everything burns there, leaving me in misery
I need you to regulate the temperature

Like the forest fire needs the trees to thrive
Or how a drought needs rain to resolve
You are quiet in my hurricane
And the sun after all of my storms

So when I lay my head down
In an attempt to get some sleep
The feeling sets in, I can lay there forever
But no matter the sleep I get
I won’t be rested until you’re home again

Followin’ the day of the local fiesta
crew ‘n cat’re startled from their siesta
A snowy egret flutters in through the hatch
an’ for Woody the boatcat an easy catch

On the cabin sole this bird alights
an’ Woody’s got it in his sights
In an instant that Yankee cat’s there
givin’ this poor bird a lethal stare

With Woody’s nose inches away
the bird closes its eyes an’ begins to sway
This catbird situation’s tense
the crew’s watchin’ in great suspense

Woody kept cockroaches off the boat
chased away birds wantin’ to rest an’ float
Now the crew’s seein’ somethin’ strange occurin’
‘cause Woody the Yankee cat’s a purrin’!?

On one leg, snowy egret’s standin’ there
the other leg’s tucked away somewhere
The little bird’s head cocks to one side
the snowy egret stood there an’ died

Of what might have occurred the crew’s certain
but somehow, Woody knew this bird was hurtin’
Cause a purrin’ cat with no tail twitchin’
for a fight its not itchin’

How Woody was aware
even a guess we would not dare
But somethin’ else the crew’s not understandin’
how a bird could die an’ on one leg still be standin’?!

Dennis McGuire
From the “Ballad of Calypso”
“Rhyme of the Modern Mariner”

malcontent melodies wisp away the evening
songbirds ease the dark awake as the sun protrudes it’s covers
fallen leaves come to rest upon the dew-covered grass
and the softness of the brisk breeze invites transformation

there’s heaviness in the morning
when evening slowly blends into dawn
and the moon has once again sunk back into its shadowed escape
the earth’s sighs knock the leaves to their knees

yet after every day

they’ll fall again
and they’ll fall again
and they’ll fall again

what beauty in the strength of the morning
what beauty in beginning again

I’m Icarus, grounded in Iraq.
A thousand talents are concealed within.
I can no longer soar in this sky,
The sun, now my adversary.

Take me to England,
Where the sun’s rays fail to reach.
Here, where I belong,
In a realm devoid of room
for love, life, and free thought.

United Ideas and the realm of the mind
Have informed me, they have come to a decision.
I must depart from Iraq, or they’ll leave me behind,
In the timeless expanse of thoughtless land.

The mind is a pomegranate,
Winter waits patiently,
Bursting with fresh and juicy talents
Too new to taste.

Stab me!
You see naught but talent.
Talents torn yearn to be set free,
Too unripe to brave the sun.

The time to decide nears,
With Virgin Ideas,
We will bravely face the sun,

And the journey to England.

It’s better to test the wings
Then bury them alive.
When I reach England,
I will take flight,
Even on solid ground.

My head is strange to my body,
As if it originated from another realm.
Internal experiences,
Beyond my experiences,
Defy explanation by any eloquent speaker.

Tingling is the common song of my vivid summer,
Countless icebergs raced through my head,
What’s this frozen signify?

Where is the entrance of the sky, to have a door?
I’ve held numerous Ayahs in my hands,
With a single puff, I blow them into the atmosphere,
I weave the prays and impart them in the ears of pain,
Yet the entire sky remains sealed!

My head resembles nothing but a confine.
Countless imaginations are stifled,
Desires are restrained,
Laughter, what’s laughter?
All are in-completed,
And laid down in a bin their knees bent.

I inhale agony,
I creep my head against the wall,
A gloomy portrait emerges,
Misery noble is mine!

Like snowballs, I’ll throw unlucky,
They come back to my memories, flock flock,
Is my mind magnetic,
Or are the days merely spring?

Even the firearms fear me,
Do the bullets understand?
The gunpowder knows that:
If my head explodes, suffering spreads out in the world.

My head is entwined with agony,
Even if we endeavor to articulate this agony in a sentence,
Comma’s power cannot separate us!

The radio transmits a melody,
Its lyrics muted within me,
The Song reads tear and
Crying flows out,
It’s Ashurah in my head!

I feel my head adds problems to the earth,
I am unwilling to frame all these agonies within the context of
existence,
Yet, from the recesses a whisper, a prayer, a voice,
Reaches my ears and I hear:
“Cheer up,”

————————

*Ashura: it’s a solemn day for Shia Muslims