If only tulips sang to me
As I was falling asleep
Like every single sparkling star
Sitting up so high.
If only rainbows
Were every thought I’d have
My mind would be forever sweet
And every hour would be afresh
From every morning shower.
If every rabbit that nibbled grass
Was my closest friend around
What conversations we’d both have
As we hobbled along our path.
If every river swept my troubles
Far away to sea
I’d be a sailor high up my mast
What liberty a man can be
Climbing up to thee.
Category: love
Betwixt Breaths (day 1849)
We are all lonesome lovers
Shivering in and amidst breaths of lovers,
Shaking cobwebs that illuminate
Brief moments of terror and grasping
In a way that never quite becomes us.
Yet laughter sounds cheerful,
Spells swirl betwixt elated breaths
And night dies down
Into faint yellow spotlights
That ominously glow to remind us
It’s not yet morning.
And in a moment he heard her speak
And night did come alive!
All around was sparkling truths
That moaned against the moon,
While pixies danced and ran around
A beaming fire in play,
And there, as it was,
Made just for us to touch,
Warmth of everlast did lay,
Till morning had its way.
Slender Daggers (day 1841)
I want a girl who wears black eye liner
As thick as her lipstick, black.
Who wears emotional sleeves in
Long, slender daggers
Piercing my emotional state
With a heart so green
I have a hard time understanding
Where my ideas have gone
In a heart, forever long
And edging ever closer to my slender daggers.
Sweat Tea (day 1840)
Into my sweet tea
I felt there was an empty spoon
And you came along so soft
To help me with my sugar,
And here your golden laughter
Took a shining to my smile –
A power I was helpless to,
A Queen in a beggars hand.
And if my sorrow had a strength
It would be a sweetened song,
It would be so round it had no edge
And sugar would be my pun
For my sweet tea is clearly running low
And my spoon has turned to fun.
This is Not A Scar (day 1833)
My heart is clear
Running through air
Upon soft land
Through thick brush.
Calm your flutter,
Sweet thoughts, afar,
Time exposes
And this is not a scar.
Summer’s Butterfly (day 1832)
If for a moment your breath should be
Delicate, as summer’s butterfly floats
Then my mind should wander free
Upon full mountains of your slopes.
For blossom precludes summer’s growth,
Where upon our butterfly soaks
In unrelenting glow of Helios,
There, ’tis there I am to live
To cast my heavens stroke in soil
Upon our warmed hearth of serenity.
You’re My Only One (day 1830)
Brushed it off
I’m coming home
You knew it was
My remaining heart
Sold my stars
For another dance
My gray fingers
First romance
Gasping I
Looked into the sun
Twenty eyes
You’re my only one
Beautiful People (day 1824)
Why are people so beautiful?
Some days the ruin of my heart
Lingers upon my tongue
And touches my nose with the faintest scent
Of midsummer’s rain.
I cannot handle this pain
In the easiest of ways,
Waiting for my touch to return
And senses to die down.
For I am only a man,
Saddened by a never ending toil of life
To which I patch holes
With beautiful people in my heart.
Dreaming (day 1810)
You don’t understand the envelope of my heart
You never did.
You grabbed hold
Of little pieces
I had never used before.
That held me dreaming
Because I am a dreamer
Dreaming my damnedest truths.
Buy your grabbing on to,
Was your dreaming of, too;
I, wild as beasts held
Flickering of hope
On the heaviest and darkest of nights
Finding cold love
In the season of heat.
Be My Lover (day 1805)
Why can’t you be my lover?
Why cant skies call us
Hand in hand
On a lazy Sunday
From beneath checkered sheets
And last nights crumbs?
Why can’t your body tangle
Wrap the heart of my smile
So tightly in a slow gaze kind of way?
Why can’t a sidewalk be
Our waltz through a park
Hand in hand and stopping
To watch two swans bathe themselves?
Why can’t our tub be lit by candles
With a glass of wine to share
From a lazy notebook dream
On a midnight kind of Saturday?
Why can’t our every day
Hold our dreams just so,
Where routine is charming and light
And the tips of your fingers
Remind me of the frost on morning’s flowers?
Why can’t we share memories,
In a caravan of love?