9 Love Poems – 9

Bring me the night and you, and I need little more,
For nothing else intoxicates like this:
A realm of learnings, carried by uncommon core;
The many-volumed novel in a kiss

The lingering, a candle slow to burn the wick;
The curvature that’s well known to the touch —
The slightest little turn that finally does the trick,
The final gear that doesn’t need the clutch

A night and you, it’s all and it is everything:
A time for hearts to find the extra beats —
The sunrise waits to see what wonders we will bring,
A paradise of tangling and sheets

  Our wine is so much more than just a fancy cup:
  For where the night gives off, we’re only starting up

Old Poem, Age 21

 When love first breaks
 Like dawn across the sky,
 Your heart fills up
 And all the old fears die

 And every cold
 And lonely day recedes,
 Within the ground
 Are planted golden seeds --

 When love first breaks
 Like shattered porcelain,
 The heart lies broken,
 Filled with fears again

 The cold returns
 To fill us from inside:
 As 'neath the snow
 Lie nascent trees that died

The Days of Life

The days of life come few and fast:
 we feel, we fight, we sleep, we try --
But there's no anodyne of hope
 to give us strength to glimpse the sky

Behind the sludge we paste upon
 our eyes, with all we read into
Our sagging minds. For what is time
 that we should fill it up with

 what is true?

Weatherbeaten

The wind and rain have seasons
 where they will work their ways;
They wear us down, eventually,
 But it is no disgrace

To live the years, and show the years,
 for as time goes, we follow --
And there's a peace that comes at last,
 when we are still

 and hollow

Where It All Leads

The day has come; I wander off to think.
My purpose has been accidental, and
A change is coming; I am on the brink
Of being somewhere I don't don't understand.

The years like track that's led me to this place.
December coming, ghostly falls the snow:
Do I keep going, with no place to go?
My markers gone, and I cannot retrace

The signs I used follow ere the days
I worked. Employment's supposed to be phase,
And not identity, and yet I find
I stumble now, and wander, cold and blind.

  Where it all leads I really cannot say,
  Or what will come, now finally comes the day.