A day of bright

On a good day, I have less to write about. Because, truly, pain and desire are the potent mixture that fuels my poetry.

But on these days of contentment, I find my mind slipping to the thought of you. Whomever, you may be. Whether I’ve met you or not. Just the thought that these are the times I want to share. The darker times I need. These are the times I want. If the difference is clear.

Today is a day in the sun. A few hours of good. I wish I could share them with you in my arms.

What sleeps may dream

Give this wavering line
This movement of sand
This sharp
This soft latex
Breathing in like summer wine
Summer dies in slow gasps
While winter builds piece on piece
Tell me your thoughts
Invite me into your memory
Summer shudders
Winter takes its first step
Take my hand
And dance
….
And wake

The past speaks and shapes

Could be the light but I shine too narrow
only to the few do I burn
all else know me for darkness
bit and piece, all slip shadow
one to hold, one to kiss, one to love
Or arm in arm strike pose
But know me for a thieves lantern
Hooded and focused
Spilling not wide but focused
And each to each
One moment in sorrow and another
Spend joy
Spinning between grace and oblivion
Consumed by swift and sweet
Heart slows
Beats pound and breath comes languid
Hold you tight
But watch you slip free my grasp
These faultlines
Taste terrible freedom
Better to dream
Than live in forever
In your normal life

What I want more than anything

What I want more than anything is you.
Have we met?
Am I waiting for you or you for me?
If you know, tell me. I dislike waiting.
I’m looking but not looking.
Not seeking but open.
Not persuing, except in dreams, and how to tell one dream from reality.
I can feel you in the world or is that my heart beating, resonating to a frequency you feel as shivers down your spine?
Have we spoken and I or you said something in our head which, if said aloud would have made all the difference?
Is it better to speak as if there is no tomorrow that matters excepting those seconds that pass while in your heart?
This eyeless sense of love moves me like a blind cave fish seeking warmth.
Or am I merely deluded, and is the delusion that love exists and waits for a word mere delusion or a hope?
And is a hope better than the truth of lonely nights?

Minutes, wind and wistful

Heat slips into veins
Heart beating in time with the trickle pulse
Of desulatory wind
Welcome arms as old lovers
Embrace to catch the sun

Light shivers and moans
Bare skin burn
Thrust hopeful into embrace of day

Foreknowledge speaks the coming night
Tears break ranks
Falling to the thirsty earth

Moon and stars rise
High waters drown the light
And I
Forgotten
Sleep
Bereft of touch

What’s born in darkness sometimes finds the light

Bathe me in the glimmering dark
A breath
Away
From death

Sing me your praises of fallen nights
A drink
Away
From drowning

Kiss me your kindness
A dance
Away
From waking

These dreams I’ve lost to living
These words rasp out a life
Trouble chase but I’m not running
I’ll wield the blade of strife

What do you say…

What do you say when all the words have been said
When the sound of your footsteps walking away seem to echo

What do you say when you are still hopeless, still deeply, deliciously, precariously, in love.

When you tell them every day but only in your head because they are gone but in a maybe temporary way and your heart can’t let go.

What do you say?

Love is a conundrum, a puzzle I can’t solve, a path you cannot walk alone.

Are you so present in my head because of my feelings? Is it metaphysical and our tie is feeding back to me your feelings? Are we just fools? Me for loving, you for silence?

Or am I only allowing the deep river of my feelings to cloud what is real?