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Saturday, November 16, 2013

I Remember

I remember the first time I saw your tiger eyes,

it was a December night with light snow.

There was chamomile tea;

instrumental music on the sound system.

Books all around. Such a homey picture.

And then I saw you, your eyes took me

to nebulai expanding, new planets coalescing

being terra-formed, amoebas sparking

and dividing somewhere. In my heart

unexpectedly there was dimensional portal that took us to quarks

building new solar systems; a new universe, a new reality

that I have never slipped from; my discorporate soul

orbiting around you. I remember your arms,

that first touch set a nebulae in my loins,

one that keeps reaching out to you

to merge; my hands through the years

keep reaching out to your hands,

even when the distance is now too great. Your touch

sets exploding super novas behind my eyes; a well

of stabilizing gravity within my heart, and in your presence

I coalesce from dark matter to solid. You

are my Higg's Boson and I keep searching for you

since then. Will keep searching for you. My heart

stays optimistic; you see

it never slipped.


Nov 2, 2013

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Waiting to Be Picked Up

I am the wrong vessel

for your hands;

I am too porous now,

fine line cracks have developed

from dropping too many times.

I carry the sweet wine you seek

but by the time you chose to drink

it has filtered out,

leaving only residue;

you waited too many times.

And like before, you blame the object;

this inanimate container that only wanted

your arms,your lips. I held

the sweet wine you wanted

that would have slacked your thirst

any time.


Nov 14, 2013

This was a November Poem-A-Day prompt.

Eight Months Later

Eight Months Later

This would be easier if we were friends;

I wouldn't have to fight your absence,

only have to resist touching you -

I lay in my silent bed

curled up around a pillow -

a child missing some one -

I should get up start the day;

the room is silent too,

the world is silent and waiting -

Why can't we be friends?

I want to be friends

or at least appear to be.


Nov 1 2013

Look At Me

Look At Me

I know you think of me as a snake waiting to strike
But I have no teeth
and am covered with fur.

I know you think of me as a book easily taken off a shelf
But I am a rare first edition
and very few can see my worth.

I know you think me colored as winter red
but I am purple, each shade
pouring toward you.

I know you think of me as risk
But I am a stable plateau,
offering shade in the desert.

All I am
is wanting you
to think of me.

Oct 24, 2013

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Borne Fruit

I can feel the muscles and tendon

peeling off my heart,

like an orange;

fingers digging in,

scrapping off the white of the rind.

The snapping off and losing

feels like there is blood oozing

from every raw abrasion.

Perhaps this is how skin is turned into leather;

the chemical burns,

the scraping,

the drying out,

chewing it again so it is pliable -

soft again as if not dead.

I don't want to say your name out loud anymore;

I'm struggling dealing with the damage that ensues.

Each time I think of you,

there is a dull plunk, as something pulls away;

my heart, this pulpy mess,

misses you.


Nov 13, 2013