so now I have begun to really flirt with you,

not just playing

the way I usually do

with those I know who will not take me seriously,

because it's just for fun-

just to help me feel that I am still alive.

These carefully selected women are kind,

compassionate partners

who sense the truth about me

even though most others have a very different impression-

because at the end of the day,

in the dark of the night

I am

all

alone.

And that is what I've said I wanted-

AND NEEDED

because there was really nothing left

to offer another

or

almost nothing.

The cumulative effects

of the last few times around

have more or less finished me off.

There's only a small flicker of hope

that still remains

and once in a while,

against my better judgment and logic

it does on its own begin to respond

to someone,

usually someone who seems “safe”

because they are far away

or for some other reason which renders them impossible

and therefore not actually available,

but of course

it often turns out

that even then, they were not so safe after all

but everything usually tends to run its course,

with me quite predictably

crashing

and

burning

and

aching with just the right amount of sadness

to write a new series of poems and chapters for

one my own never ending stories

Low Tide Desparados,

Tsunami Surfers

or

Lost And Found In A Kayak.

It might be important to say that

with the exception of one person

none of them intended to do me in.

They never tried to do the damage

they ended up doing.

I don't feel like a victim.

It's just what happened.

Perhaps it's part of the grand plan-

to help me become a better

and even more prolific poet.

At certain points in time

writing my reflections,

my attempts to make sense of things

was all that I was able to do.

Writing at the beginning and end

of each day kept me going,

but it has at times held me prisoner.

Once I had to stop.

I was prolonging everything

and not allowing the dust to settle

or letting the wounds heal,

but most of the time

it is beneficial.

It helps me to understand.

Friends and relatives occasionally attempt

introduce me to someone they feel would be nice

for me to meet,

but most of the time

I run

because I know that I am not ready.

I don't have things together enough

in my life.

And I haven't managed to heal myself

though I have made some progress..

Some argue that the right person could help with that,

or that even the wrong person

might be better than

the way things are now.

I know

that for most people

and

even for me

at some other time

that might be true,

but not right now.

Not Now.

At this moment

I

can't

do

anything-

until I have finished writing about the ones

who have come before

about what has taken place

inside.

I'm not blaming anyone,

just trying to understand

so that

next time,

if there is a next time

I will

be a better partner

and

perhaps

be able to survive

this whole thing

of being in a relationship and still do

what I need to do for me

rather than

giving away too much.

That has been my pattern-

always trying to take care of the other person

and

forgetting about myself.

That is

what I've always done,

but

I can't do it

anymore.

Doing what I need to do

has now become

all too clear,

and essential.

It's not even a choice anymore,

but still

I don't really trust myself with women.

Maybe one day,

maybe even soon,

but

not

just

yet.

But even then,

in the case of you and I

there's still all the distance

and probably neither of us can do much to change that,

because I think we both have deep, deep roots where we are

and the others around us just couldn't bare it,

and would feel too hurt

if we weren't around.

Why am I even writing this?

Querida, Querida, Pia

I don't even know you

and yet …

It feels like I do

even from far away.

I'm not asking you to wait,

or for anything else

because that would be unfair

and even cruel.

It's Ok

if you want me to stop,

I will.

I can do that.

“Bastante” might be exactly

what you should be saying,

But I hope that

you will somehow understand,

and be able to

take things in stride

without it causing you to feel uncomfortable

or off balance.

If you are able

to accept the very little bit

that a cowboy poet can offer

(which is not much more than his songs)

because

he has not taken good care of things in his life.

He hasn't cared enough

about himself

for a long, long time,

and it shows,

but

even though he's still not ready for anything-

whenever he finds something or someone

of exceptional beauty,

he doesn't really have a choice,.

because he is a poet

He Just Needs To Write About It.

I Need To Write About You-

You ARE so beautiful

in so many different ways.

I just have to say it.

c