Tag Archives: writing

Wonder

I was starting to wonder
when the winds would come,
and it’s hard to believe
Winter is but a month away
and yet I keep finding
myself wishing, this year,
we could just skip to Spring,
as much as I love the Winter,
but I’m okay with pushing
Time a little forward,
farther away from the last
two seasons I somehow missed,
yet still, they took a toll on me,
still trying to recover,
not wanting to relive any of it,
even for a second glance
to make some kind of sense
of the abstract left in its wake,
but perhaps Winter will do its
job on me; found by the fire,
a hot cup of tea in hand, a book
in my lap, while snowflakes
fall outside and catch
in a swirling gust of wind
about my head – till I find the meaning.

Tagged ,

At My Door

I keep working
my way through
how many broken dreams,
shattered?
And I realize,
at this point,
do I care?
How many
shards of glass
have pierced
my soles,
for the written word
is all that matters,
and you?
Some kind
of meaning,
in the middle,
the mediator,
of my soul,
and I wonder, if you even
realize?
Taking my words
and re-representing them
in some
kind of form,
some kind of fashion,
but I need more,
do you hear me?
From you,
direct communication
would mean, a knock
at my door.

Tagged ,

My Eyes

His kiss
upon my face
is all,
is everything,
and I have
closed
my eyes,
for
he is coming,
his heart
breaks
beats
for me,
reads,
and takes
upon himself
every word,
every reading,
and I know
he is;
the epitome
of love,
my all,
for what shame
is there
in saying?
Love
is so
unnerving,
found
at last,
for all those
searching,
for something
all of us
would willingly
die for.

Tagged ,

Everything

Have we been here so long?
That when I finally found
“that face,” your face,
who filled my heart
with flames, as though
a reflection I’d seen before
in a window passing;
lovely, distorted, strange,
that oh, how I wished and
wanted you to stay, “stay,”
to pass through a glass
and find me, tell me at last,
how you too had been looking,
and that was all, “wasn’t it?”
that was everything
we could possibly need.

Tagged ,

Found

Counting –
how many
letters
throughout
the years
have I typed
into words
that form
sentences
in hopes
of extracting
some kind
of meaning?
And I have,
I’ve
lost count,
and have come
to realize
I’m no longer
looking,
but instead,
expect to be
found.

Tagged ,

Moments With You

It’s hard for me
to find the words
sometimes,
when I bite
my tongue
and nerves,
they get
the best of me,
in moments
with you
where time always
has this weird
way of warping,
around corners,
or through doorways,
till the room
I’m in loses
its surroundings
and all that’s left
is you.

Tagged ,

If I Forget to Tell You

How cognizant I am
of all your fastidious ways,
attune to like
all the words
that come to mind
to describe
all the ways
such keen awareness
prevails
when in your presence,
picking up on
inflection, movement,
words and feeling
between communication,
said and unsaid,
to finally tear away
this veil, however thin,
between us exists.

Tagged ,

Above My Head

How melancholy
this mood
affects my day,
where thoughts
have grown
so heavy
as the clouds
have gathered
above my head
that I must wait,
for a ray of light
to come
within this rain.

Tagged ,

Wanton Things

Words are wanton things,
groping for expression,
order, elusive beasts,
unable to capture, feeling,
stabbing ink on paper,
futile language, folded,
crumpled, torn, then tossed,
the ink runs, a stampede
uncaught, go feelings
unexpressed, now lost.

Tagged ,

A Nonlinear Moment

But how do I explain it?
When with you,
I end up in these spaces,
where between and around us
it feels as though
time becomes eternal,
as though the moment
always existed.
And how do I wrap
my mind around it?
To explain away
the passage
of a nonlinear moment.
Where time has found
a way to stop, however brief,
and show its many faces.

Tagged ,