response

the intersection of memory and reality –

the kiss upon the neck that turns

the nerves inside the body out –

the summertime that burns the skin

and leaves the sweating soul in doubt

 

for there is folly where there’s love,

and where there’s love, there’s oft remorse –

and mem’ries don’t a pillow make

and rivers fester when you dam

the source

capital improvement

let’s invest in you and me:
loving in sincerity,
speaking what we feel and see,
drawing our own lines —

let’s invest in time and act,
resolutions made to fact,
kindness, truthfulness and fact,
sweeping all the mines

that explode when we demur –
silence when we don’t concur –
swirling feelings then we stir,
hiding behind faces —

let’s invest in building us:
aggregating hope and trust,
speaking freely as we must,
and allowing spaces —

so when days grow shorter, dimmer,
there will ever be a glimmer
of a love that still can shimmer
though of changed demeanor

capital improvement, really:
very firm (though touchy-feely)
love that’s given, taken freely,
grass that’s ever

greener

For All That Dreamers Dream

… there is a cost.

For those who know, the quiet’s like a salve;
A balm to soothe the aching, wounded soul –
A therapeutic that is there to have
Whenever life or liars leave a hole

A whole entire world of wondrous sights
Will open up for those who scale the heights –
Upon the wind of solitude to soar;
The nadir and the apex – what they’re for –

For all that dreamers dream, there is a cost:
The peace that’s needed, just to take in breath –
The separation that is part of death –
The death that is the dream forever lost

Lost everywhere, but not beyond reclaim:
For love’s a dream with wings, and knows no shame

Just Another, Love

Allow me to enumerate
Your virtues this December:
You’re better than those other girls
Whose names I can’t remember

You’re better than all Hollywood
For you are far less fakey,
Although, like California, you
Can make my whole ground quakey

You’re smarter than you’re beautiful:
But somehow, yet, I’ve found
It’s also a true statement said
The other way around

You’re strong and unpredictable,
You’re tender and yet wise;
There is a morning in your voice
And sunset in your eyes

I know I write these poems oft,
It’s just another, love —
But there was no one then, or since,
I’d rather scribble of —

For you’re the sun, the moon, the stars,
The sunshine and the rain,
And I am sorry I forgot
To put trash out

Again

A Resonance

I heard across the span of years the sea.
A younger smaller form of you-and-me:
Our latent powers weakened by the storm,
Each pressured in our ways to fold, conform —

But on that shore, we held to skin on skin,
Our bronze desire: to escape again
Into a world we hoped we could make last,
And be unchained from still more distant past.

But on the brink, a sudden hesitance;
The sea-sound of our hearts, a resonance
That echoed over shores where blue turned gray,
And blew our fragile happening

Away

Another Ex

A on again, off again, thing.

She was my longest love in many ways,
With us so often on, or off, again;
She was a part of each divergent phase
Of all the things I tried to, could’ve been

She called me once in quite a fevered state;
Her voice its magic worked on me in tolls;
I drove six hours – then we made love eight –
A fire burning on in glowing coals

But something about us just was not right.
The chemistry was there, and we could talk:
But our values were different, so in spite
Of all the good we had, I chose to walk.

We have stayed friends, and lately I can tell:
I’m just another ex to her, as well