“Waiting”

waiting

 

And there are so many things
I really should do
but to sit here
in this dark room
and write
but—
i won’t.

I don’t want to let this moment pass, to go
away
without letting it out,
spilling it on the page

and I’ll sit here
trying to be calm
but inside
my guts are twisting up

I want to leave and drive and
I have to wait here
tormented

I hear the bell outside
and awakened I am there
looking out the half-covered window
to stop
and listen

waiting, waiting, waiting
I hate to be idle—
one hour more and escape is near

 

 

 

photo credit: Gabriela Camerotti <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/50417132@N00/4688099733″>You were like a wishing well</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

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“Spoken for”

28605503240_c9d06038e2_o.jpgSpoken for…
I am the property
of the November wind
Arctic ice
the cooling creek
a moonlit mountainside
a fireside chat
in all of that,
I am made whole
the waters rush in to
invigorate my soul
the cascading hills
roll the tension out
beams of golden sun
bake in the joy
i am spoken for….

Photo credit: Photopin

Petal-covered Pout

29433056342_67f1377827_o
Skin left bitten by the boisterous, blustery day
her pretty cheeks pricked and left delicately raw,
the phantom wind left crimson upon her cheeks and lips

warmth crept in, set in
upon entering the sanctuary of her favorite spot
swirling the long robe up and out into the expanse of space within

she placed herself inside its embrace
slipped down into the hug of her most beloved chair
curled up, like a spotted cat, and wrote

with pen pressed to her petal-covered pout,
she lost herself in the tease of his smile
how long she had yearned to touch her lips to his
the waiting, the wonder, and now

only writing, only lines on the page
through the ink dotted on each piece,
she could put herself there with him

and for now,
this would suffice
to be enough

“Parts”

parts

All of these parts
I have inside
Some exposed
Others I hide

But all, it seems, are quite distressed
A wash of death,
A hectic mess

Haphazardly strewn, they are, at best
inside a body
without rest

a mind of swirls
clouds of mope
devils, danger,
fear, cut-throat

Amidst it all, a smile facade
no brick, no stone
but merely straw

loveless it seems,
weak at best
desperate to die,
a waking crest

simile. metaphor.
what all may be
a treasure trove
catastrophe.

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/23474554@N00/2873947114″>fcw</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

“Rumpus of Love”

couple-1329349_1920peer in,
peer out,
what is there?

is it you? tell me where;

sit and stay—
stay awhile.
tell me stories;
walk the mile

your eyes are warm—
they draw me near
hold me close;
be mine, sweet dear—

cotton candy clouds above
wispy, dreamy,
they’re in love

just those two,
right in our grasp
their love, like ours,
will never lapse!

oh, dreamboat!
you speed my heart;
it’s full of joy,
not torn apart

stitch by stitch,
you’ve sewn it new,
whole inside
without pure rue—

fancy, fancy
your eyes meet mine;
our souls forever
intertwine

and so it is
you now with me
our spirits reckless,
raging seas

a wave, a toss,
sweet love, we dance;
the perfect moon,
entrancing glance

i love you so!
you love me back
joyous romp
sweet attack!

buzz buzz by, firefly
your love for me
won’t be denied

and now, the night
is fully drawn;
hold me near
until the dawn.

“The One You Chose”

chose_one

And so you’ll choose her,
the one
who will
chew you up
and
spit you out,
her mouth foaming
her heart, an empty vase, flowers wilting within—
just a momentary beat with
no true sentiment
a clock without gears
just tick tick tick…

there will be no pause,
no remorse for your soul—
for you, never love,
you’re nothing but her toy
a simple trinket with which to play;
when boredom grasps her,
away you’ll be tossed

and you’ll think of me then
the one who would have loved you
exactly as you ought to be—
exactly the way you never
dreamed you deserved
you will see my face each night
inside your mind, oh the torment
for not having tried
and you will
wonder what could have been
how the world would have been
brighter,
more whole,
less of the lesser—inside you

and yet—
my never-to-be love,
I am not the one you chose

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/91695677@N00/4723657763″>I Died So I Could Haunt You</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

“Again”

love

You ever meet someone
and
their face stays there—
clinging to the depths
of your mind
And the shattered part
of your soul feels less
troubled,
less grief,
and so to be with him—
to be back where
his skin
met yours,
you let your hair fall to the table
as you press your cheek
down upon
the wood
and, with eyes closed,
you let yourself
be with him
again.

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/29370225@N03/26647758241″>venice</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;