The Curse

So I ask

Dear poet

What draws you to the sea?

When waves fervently kiss the wind

Do you hear colliding poetry?

All those words your fingers caressed

With hopes that your soul

Would reach out

And leak onto the world

You left in the night

To dive into

 the unknown light

How many before

And so many after

Have done the same?

So I ask

Though I think I know

It draws me too…

Perhaps in the same way

as it does you

why do I want to understand?

So that fate

doesn't grab and pull my hand?

When the dusk dips

And the night swirls

Into a sad melody

That stirs the syllables

Within my heart

And no metaphor can be

Rocked slow to sleep.

All stars start shooting

And the mad midnight

Begins brewing

There’s nothing still

To hold

No calm to float on

So I ask:

Did you feel the curses

Of crashing verses?

Did you sleepwalk in slippers

only to awaken, 

to your own cries,

so shaken

out of the depths of a nightmare

to a place

Where boldness meets fear?

Is there a map

That will take me far away from there?

To where I may overcome 

that overwhelming intensity?

Inside

Inside

Inside 

an oven closed

Baked emotions

Burned by the lack of attention

It didn’t want anyway

Now all that's left

is the taste of grey 

and the smoky odor of what the fire left

The fire

That was never dealt with

They've come to make sense

Of the ashes

But breath can not exist here

And nothing familiar

Is there to be recognized

There is nothing fancy

Floating within the cloudy room

Just smoldered dreams

On the glitter-free, 

now sparkless earth

No valuable remnants

To find the sky

And show their worth

A buried heart

Can not grow

And the one who owned it

Only wanted to give it away

Or trade it for freedom

But the heat was too much
untouchable

and it became ashes scattered

Before it met the air

It died

Without ever having lived

It’s all gone

Or is it?

Is it possible for what never was

To be gone or go?

I’d like to think so

Reminiscing

This one kind of came out like a country song...or at least that's what it sounds like in my head. :-)

Not all days and nights are right for reminiscing

But sometimes the sunset seems to know

When I miss all the ways you touched me

With just the right amount of soft and slow

and with a violent passion

you beat right into my quiescent heart

and it’s there, where you still manage to flow

Not all clouds are shaped like yesterdays

But sometimes I feel like the sky is teasing me

It’s not the blue that reminds me of you

It’s the warmth of the sun, just before it leaves me

Then I wander back into that moment

When I first met your smile

Before that, I didn’t know all that much about happy

Knowing days like that can still live

Gives me hope that I’ll see love again soon

And not just between

the setting sun and the rising moon

but  in all of the places willows won’t cry

and for far longer 

than the sun lights up the hours of June

My Gratitude

How could I feel so much

From someone that lay
so many miles away

The way he touched me

Like some kind of magic trick

No hands

Just words whispered from lips

That slipped inside my heart

Though I could not watch their movement

Still, I felt the need to kiss

Make it true

Make it love

Make it this

For as long as the clock’s hands move

And as far as ours will reach

For as long as love has nothing to prove

And life has everything to teach

I will have someone to thank

Make it live

Make it move

Make it bliss

And now I go

Toward a season undiscovered

with no layers

with no fan

with no you

no way of knowing

whether I’ll fly away

or stand

no fingertips tracing

the lifeline on my hand

Make it fate

Make it you

Make your way to me

For as long as destiny has a resting place

And desires need a soft spot to land

For as long as hearts feel the urge to race

And canyons remain wide and grand

You, my love, will have my gratitude

The Way She Came

Some may think she forgot the way she came

If she lifts her sleeves they’d see

Names of streets that stained her feet

She could recite them backwards

Picking up the rocks that trail

Back to before they became demolished dreams

A foundation settling on possibility

Nobody lives there now

So much has passed away

And yet

Still so much remains unvisited

Her thoughts the only train

That ride on the track

To the way back

Left turn at should

Right at should not

And suddenly you are

Where you were

Funny how easy it is

And how difficult it becomes

There are things that she doesn’t know

 some things she’ll never learn

And minds that can’t be untaught

she tries not to expose her wounds

and if they somehow become unveiled

she’ll hope you look away

not in dismay

but towards the reflections of denial

that she has poured

 along the way

Forget?

Never.

If only there were such things as forgetting.

Jaded souls

can’t be traded

For new 

She couldn’t be someone else

Though there were times she tried to

Until the make-up smeared

And there she was again

Left to face her face

Some may think she has forgotten

But she knows the way and she’ll never show you

She goes the same way she came

Alone.

Sometimes Life

Sometimes life

Disguises herself with dark make-up

And hail for hair

She closes the sky

And stays in for the night

puts the stars back in her jewelry case

…nobody noticed them anyway

Then she decides that she is sad

And bathes in salted tears

Refusing to drain her fears

 write her a love letter

explaining that her beauty is eternal

 and too infinite to be hidden

let her know that pretty

seems to like to rest within her dimples

sing her a song she’ll recall she loved

send her a smile she can hear in the harmony

her heart will change

like spring is every other season

and your charm will offer reason

When her eyes are too heavy

To accept the light

When her arms are too full,

 holding boulders of burdens

and pounds of pounding worry

When all that never was, is too bad

And bouts with doubts taunt

 like a sphere of nightmares recurring

When she forgets

All but the regrets…

Remind her who she is

In the beginning

 at the end

and all the time in-between

she is worth it

she is beautiful

The deepest part of everything

Surrender

When we turn ourselves in

Like prisoners to the night...

Long forgotten

but not for good,

the summers  bright,

we will chase the shadows

and shake them up

until they return the stolen light

We will revisit

 the blissful ignorance

of potential plight.

Catch all of the fireflies

As they form words in motion,

Dazzling taste, touch,

 sound, scent and sight.

Terms of endearment

 leaping off the tips of our tongues.

We shall put them all in a jar

like pennies saved

for a lover’s quiet thoughts

I close my eyes and whisper

 “That’s it!
That was what I needed”

Any attempt to fight or flight

Would be foolish

and undoubtedly defeated.
then all the rush

of an anticipated touch

would rise and be known

through phrases repeated

without losing their novelty

We will hide from death,

Remain untouched

by December’s frozen,

 heavy breath.

Step away,     

walk in reverse

Until things get blurry

Then fall asleep on firm plans

To someday face the worry

I Want

I want to be the poem

That no one has read aloud

 resting between lips that wait

behind a veil of fear

longing to be lifted for its first kiss with life

I want to be the poem

That finds new reasons to live

Buried within demolished sandcastles.

Surfing on forgotten summer dreams.

As bipolar as the ocean, with brief moments of calm

I don’t want to be the poet

tossing pebbles into ponds

while thinking of something else.

Although, I think it’d be sadder

 to be the unthought-of  pebble

I want to be
the poet unafraid
to dance to rhythms true

Salsa with the sun

And save a waltz for the moon

I want to have something to say

And then say something

And then read the words back

Through another’s eyes

And know that I am not lost...