Poetry

26

11:42 PM

Words
that fly from fingertips
so easily sent into the world
without fear of regret
until I do

Words
held captive in the silence of fear
lips sealed shut
the moment passed by
the deepest longing denied

Words
that could break the spell 
if only allowed
and release my pounding heart from prison
just by the saying

Why must one rise on one's own two feet in order to stand?
Cannot I just say the words and be set free?

Poetry

Never

12:46 AM

I'm in love with a ghost.

The ghost of a past I never knew, and a summer we never spent together.

When we never held each other tight in the tall grass,
and watched the clouds above our heads.
When you never kissed my lips until they bled,
and held my hand until our fingers caught flame.
When the wind never whipped my hair out the window of your Chevrolet,
and the sun never burned the skin upon my bare shoulders.
When your eyes never smiled,
and your laughter never filled the four walls of my bedroom.

And my heart never beat faster than yours.

And I never loved.
And I never lived.
And the ghosts never haunted me.

Poetry

An old poem on a day of new snow...

11:27 AM

The snow fell while I slept,
Caressed the pane,
Cried my name
With tiny flakes of winter's flame
And through the fissures crept.

The snow fell while I slept,
And yet unseen
It met each dream
And painted it a frosty scene
As down the blizzard swept.

The snow fell while I slept.
The world bathed white
Through all the night
And blinded eyes by morning light
In wafting, wondrous depth.

Poetry

The Angel On My Doorstep

12:25 AM

There is an angel on my doorstep;
Bare feet in newly fallen snow;
Eyes, grey like storm clouds, dark rimmed with sleeplessness.
Hands warm despite their paleness,
Holding my heart,
And I can hear the sounds of violins.

My daily visitor,
Brief but regular,
Until I could not imagine each morning without her.
There is a comfort in sameness, even if it is imagined.
Celestial beings can touch the souls of mortals,
But they must pay the highest price.

Sudden vacancy.
Silence,
As if the love of humankind was too much.
I did not mean to drive her away.
If she only knew the emptiness,
Without the burning of her fingertips.

I am aged.
This is the last of my mornings.
The angel's empty footprints are on my doorstep,
Perfect in the mound of white.
The human heart beats warmer one final time.
The violins start to play.

Poetry

This Means War

11:54 PM

Moments.
Unable to be recounted.
And yet I do.

Like a golden film of yesteryear it plays before me.

The time when your eyes were so close
To mine
That our souls kissed
And in that instant
                                         I became a sunrise.

Two hands.
Accidental.
Nothing that means anything.
And yet it is all.

When such things transpire who can fight the fates?

It is useless,
But still I strive.
I surrender,
But I will not be beaten.

                                         There is more than just eternal happiness.