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Tag Archives: love

Deciduous (#326)

It is easy to love a tree in Spring
Budded and budding
Showing you colors you are expecting
Or in Summer
All shade and soft smells
Or in Autumn
When they age with dignity
Trembling
With leaves dancing
Like couples who learned to waltz
50 years ago.

But in Winter?
Can you love a tree in Winter?
Overly thin
And awkwardly standing
Showing their skeleton
Like a hospital patient
With their gown unintentionally open.

The weather is cold.

The breath I have remaining
Fogs out of my mouth.

Will you love me
In this unforgiving Winter?

 
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Posted by on September 17, 2018 in new poetry

 

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Our First Night (#325)

You woke me from a dream about you
To tell me you had been dreaming about me

You would think this would make us soulmates
Or something
Already connected through the ether
Of the subconscious

And maybe we are

But I had been dreaming
Of you trapped in a black room

And you had been dreaming
Of my body separated
Into jagged pieces

 
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Posted by on September 14, 2018 in new poetry

 

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gargoyle (#320)

I will wait here for you
a statue
a gargoyle
cast in iron or stone
part of any architecture I can find.
This is how I will survive
all of the storms
I know
have destroyed your other loves.
I will watch
carefully
unblinking
as days and nights chase each other
as water of unwanted devotion
falls away from your turned-away body.

I will be patient.
I will be iron or stone.
You will always know where I am.
I’m the quiet, still thing
in the corner of your life.
Waiting for you.

 
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Posted by on February 1, 2018 in new poetry

 

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an itch of you (#318)

my past loves
were palm-tree-bending-winds
glorious-nighttime-desert-hikes-looking-for-water
diving-for-the-fallout-shelter-before-radiation-hits
loves
invigorating and scary
Look-I’m-Alive
types of loves

but I have always had an itch of you
middle of my back
can’t quite reach it
constantly there
itch of you

in the eye of a hurricane
or roaming a desert
or while a bomb was dropping
the itch was still there

I know I could have scratched it
if I really wanted to be rid of you
rubbed against a post
or bought one of those long-handled wooden claws
but part of me understood
your itch was important

and finally, now,
a wiser, surer man
I am ready to revel
in a full blown
body covering
rash of you

 
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Posted by on January 25, 2018 in new poetry

 

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July 22, 1991 (why Valentine’s Day is not February 14) (#308)

I traveled
beneath the shell
of the white chaos
of single life
searching inside for
color and
quiet
but finding neither

Cupid
(the god of fate
and second chances)
took pity on me
and shot me with his arrow
that is
you

You spoke to me
in the language of kisses
and I found
the color inside
me
and the quiet inside
you

Now I feel no need
for Valentine’s Day
because the shell
that surrounds
me
is everyday
the voice of
you

 
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Posted by on April 6, 2016 in old discoveries

 

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#294

Yesterday’s decision                     (new)

So I finally decided to go ahead
And decorate the wall
You’ve put up between us.
My mom recommended I place a ficus
Right in front of the wall
To cover it in shadow,
But, as you know,
I kill plants.
So instead I went to IKEA
And bought a couple of faux modern art prints,
Very colorful and obtuse,
To frame the corners
And I put up a couple of shelves
And filled them with knick-knacks
And pictures of our trips together
That I used to think were important.
As I was drilling in the screws
To attach the shelves
I was kind of hoping you would pound on the wall
And tell me to be quiet.
But maybe you weren’t there.
But the wall is pretty now.
It’s a focal point of my room.
I could stare at it for hours.

 
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Posted by on February 10, 2015 in new poetry

 

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#293

A simple observation               (new)

The first time teenagers hold hands
On a school trip, say,
They just seem to accidentally
Be traveling the same way
Then they are somehow next to each other
A lot
And then closer and closer
Until their hands
Are coincidentally next to their sides
And they are too close not to touch
Then entwine

They never look at each other
And don’t talk
But in walking this way
They become a couple

 
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Posted by on August 28, 2014 in new poetry

 

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