she walks the aisles, looking for labels new, or name: but what might seem uncommon may, tested, taste the same
They shared some barbecue and drinks
Each other to entice;
He came there with the fire,
But she came with the ice
The whole thing went as evenings will,
The stars fell on their tongues,
And all that they had lit aflame
Filled up their eyes and lungs —
But after all the smoke had cleared
A different tale was told
How she left burning with the light
And he left in
I took a girl here years ago on a date
I remember how beautiful the view was
I remember how fresh and delicious the fish was
I remember the setting sun and the ice cold beer
For the life of me
I can’t remember who the girl was
When You Get Your Chance…
When you get your chance, You fall where the pull takes you; For love is less a walk Than a waterslide When your turn comes, You give up your old rules, Because you realize you have never Really played this game before Ask your questions, But make no assumptions; Dance whenever there's music, And make new music when you need to -- Together When you get your chance, Live fully each moment, Bringing every part of you To experience the thrill of The ride
He liked her
And she liked him
She was afraid
Of being used physically
By a man
Who wasn’t really interested in her
That’s just what men do
He was afraid
Of being used emotionally
By a woman
Who wasn’t really interested in him
That’s just what women do
And they each interpreted the other’s actions
As proving their own theories
Even though they both liked each other
5 Times 4
It ended; she’d met someone else,
And I was not that broken up.
It turns out he was there, out at
A neighbor, in her old hometown,
Marine now, tall and rangy guy —
And we were friends again,
The way that goes.
I’d see her: music theory class,
Her headphones on, as
Beautiful as ever, but,
I too had felt something lacking, it was weird.
I should have moped, and raged, and stormed;
Instead, I dated someone else,
Who I liked far, far better
Relationships, like interviews
Turn into something, or they don’t.
This one lasted several months, then
Died its death, and
No one really mourned
5 Times 3
I walked into her parents’ house just
Two days after Christmas;
I’d made the strange four hour drive
To see her in that place —
Her parents were the sweetest, nicest people.
I was her “new boyfriend”
And I met fifty relatives, it felt like;
All these names and faces, it was quite bewildering.
And later, after dinner, we
Sat down beside the Christmas tree;
She told me I looked tired, and
We went up to a room
Where I would soon be sleeping.
We had never slept together;
I know it’s not that cool, but
It’s my truth, and so I tell it here.
Then when we kissed goodnight, I felt
A longing in her, something new;
I didn’t and I couldn’t guess
What she was thinking, but
I soon found out
5 Times 2
Walking by the river, down from campus, near
The aging fishing bridge, we stopped:
We hadn’t really talked yet much, and I
Was asking what her dreams were, and her plans —
She worked in radio, but not yet
How and where she planned on doing;
She was a writer, a speaker, a thinker,
Who wanted, not to conquer the world, but better it.
And as I listened, I could see
The future as she laid it out;
I probed a little: details, things
That, at that age, we talk about
And it was funny: life’s so real.
We’re all the same down underneath
The masks we wear: with hopes and fears
That differ in the details only
Yes, we’d worn masks, and hers was beauty;
Mine was weary misanthrophy
Shown false through the joy I showed
In simply making a new friend
5 Times 1
You tell me. I was nineteen,
And she was more than life itself:
I would have cut my arm off, given
All my limbs to science, just
To be beside her, everyday.
But this was not a forlorn hope:
It was fulfilled, and day on day
It just got better, better, like
A string of cool fall weather,
And it seemed my trenchant heart was set to soar.
But what — what did I know?
I was alternately, a lunatic,
And one supportive, not that bad a guy.
And who — just who was she?
What is this magic blinds us to
Exactly who the people we love are?
I know not, now, or then.
But love’s a good thing, even broken:
Even made of hope and sneakers,
Even as smile in the park
That burned my soul way into dark