the fear of knowing
beyond feigned intrigue
when hopes drawn
become a notice
eyes have less wander
please wander through brief
know the restful days
are the least favorite
when time on my hands
leaves me obsessed
I remember now,
how I laughed and cried,
and eventually tried
to see the end of a long
one that did not contain anyone
to measure true elegance.
I recall yet, still,
in the absurdity of reason,
wondering how to fill a void
beyond this energy,
knowing yet even still,
I had no reason to be wishing so.
We form unions,
when we do,
we carefully decide upon choice,
there is that piece, that part of
the skeptic, the wanderer, the
seems always to wonder.
Is it lust,
that calls upon our definition
so powerful we with willing,
create difficult scenarios,
the sort they make movies about,
write epic literary rendezvous,
with names like Fitzgerald,
Nin, Yves, Chopin, even Oates is real.
I once knew a woman,
whom when shadows failed,
the strict sunlight of an opaque desert,
called me forward,
and with each grain of sand I might encounter,
I could clearly see,
no reminder, no parallel,
no one would ever come close,
in the affirming nature of
I came to realize truth
is a lovely complexity.
my mother would reference this place,
a sort of mental ravine,
her heart might nearly stop,
eyes would glaze?
blood flow in her feigns might suddenly,
spill into one pool of spun lethargy.
This was not a place
she liked to be,
she’d often howl at the nature
of love and all it’s failings.
yet, she never discovered a solution?
only knew when inside?
not a lesser degree of pain
could ever exist.
where my mother was always never to pull the plug,
I might decide otherwise,
though my freedom would be sought?
there leaves a ring of memory,
clinging to everyone’s personal psyche.
There is little I can do to physically fill this void,
knowing she is everywhere but here,
I can feel her, touch her sweet mystique, imagine,
yet, in the moment,
I won’t, I cannot, I, though I yearn, I want,
in the quiet of a moment, I wish I might know,
the pulse of her heart is the same as my own,
I wish when I create fantasy,
I might have the inside look, the glance, her eyes,
if I could only hold onto that passion for this waking hour.
The rush, the sweep toward my lips, the eyes that plead,
when then we meet and time does stop, our search,
our bodies in a unison that waits for direction,
yet allows soft, sensuality to carry this peace as far as we can.
It is there in the waking hour I wish only to be … with you.
If when in the distant horizon, a place familiar,
would while sandstorms erase the past,
she stands in the sunlit mecca, a spiritual muse.
His grateful demeanor, vivid eyes could see
a certain elegance that one time is lost,
today is in his heart real beyond his dreams.
Could I please offer you my kindest wishes
he did plead to the silent night sky,
I do wish to hold you in my arms and cry.
Because in love we move beyond the norm,
there is a delightful caress in my mind,
tells me she is nearby, waiting in her quiet.
I do love you he would say, as she might begin
a slow methodical step toward truth eternal.
A sweet pose, not meant for eyes,
only the girl inside may know
her heart has a quiet ache,
holds room for a soft soul.
She might wonder about life,
what is this place we all decide
matters inside ideals of desire,
knows alone better than most.
On the other side of town,
exists a confusion has a yearn,
a constant, streams connect lives
he imagines hers a lovely world.
A time ago she spoke of nature,
he will hold on forever, a sound
whistle in the twilight – –
reminders to share eternal love.
Silent is the night while we live
close to beauty, chosen elegance,
She is spiritual mystique, free,
to know surely love is a forever.
It is when I can imagine her eyes,
searching the paper, the right keystrokes,
for we are beyond the parchment,
the monitor speaks to her,
while the journey continues,
to find her soul in saying hello.
I do see tears, they are those I wish to touch,
with lips that will assure her
always the reflection is my love.
My fingertip might catch a runaway,
gather between finger and thumb
and bring this moisture to my own lips
to be with you in every aspect of my mind.
It is when the sunlight brings me to my place
this fashion of life I choose,
when waking to the moments,
as the clarity of her elegance swoons my mind.
It is then I know, her words, her beauty, her sweet
While my world begins, I am traveling with you.