Dark You Dark (day 2751)

I wrote a poem for you
That felt like a lifetime
It wove its way through dark corners
Of suspicious bars
That looked sideways
And smelt like
The sticky lacquer
Melting off the wooden bar table.
It isn’t enough that you’re here
Vibrating like a toy sized dog
Stuck on repeat
In a cassette tape deck
That likes to eat tapes,
I want more
I want the underside of the table
That’s a garbage can
You don’t look into,
I want the sole
Of a soleless shoe,
I want the rattle in my pocket
From change at our corner store
For your mind is the darkness
I’ll stand in the dark for.

I Wrote (day 2726)

Where did you come from?
I wrote letters for years
That remained unanswered
To addresses I didn’t recognize.
Every one of them I’d sign
With my most magnificent signature
I’d spent weeks crafting.
But you remained silent,
And I remained hopeful
And you remained a mystery
That my dreams kept believing in,
Craftfully twisting into
My perfect romantic interest
Until one day, awaiting at my door
Was a letter returned
With a signature I didn’t remember
That had been marked upon a letter
I didn’t remember I wrote.

The Heart of My Song (day 2599)

Did the heart of my song
Ring out to you wrong?
Wrote it down twice
Just to make sure I’s clear,
For lost in verse
Was my biggest fear
That reached down to me
From an overhead cloud
Grabbed on, brought on the sea
Right to my heart;
So torrential soaking
Left the biggest swell
Inside my song
That rang out all night
Into a saucer holding tea
Comforting me that I am now free.

In a Letter (day 2586)

I wrote away a letter
Unmarked address with extra hope
It would find a recipient
That wished I’d be mailing soon.
In it I explained
How my heart had always felt
When I thought of her smiling
– A reason I surely had to swoon.
I explained of how the clouds looked
When I sat happy to daydream
She had sent me off with fireworks
Half way home, across Canada.
Then I signed the letter punctually
With my whole enunciated name
Ink splashed out my every hope
It would bring us to our peace.

Notes (day 2296)

On the note that I wrote
I said I wasn’t able to grow
It had two long names
I’m not about to repeat
But at the end of the letter
I had two last words
That never came out
Because I had become afraid of you
And then I left unheard
With a broom in my hand
Sweeping up each piece
That shattered as I wept
About the loss of a book
Written two pages at a time
As if it knew it’s turn
And I shall not return
For I have a note in my pocket.

Cadaverous Embrace (day 1750)

I marked my diary with a black heart yesterday,
Signalling yet another loss of a piece of me
To a lancet, delicately embraced by a cadaverous hand
Tightly hemmed in mourning lace.
Upon my wrinkly pages I wrote of lament so thick
Leaves dropped freely in my eerie breeze,
And my nigh filled dipping pen
Opulently embarking upon saintly rites
Deep into the cold moon’s full embrace,
For this unsettled heart beat thick.

Cadaverous Embrace by Ned Tobin