I wanna make love to you.
Not the love that races to the end
But the love that fills the sky
At dusk,
Or that dwells deep within the hearts
Of Canadian geese in flight.
I want to make love to you
Like the lazy sunshine
That kisses with closed eyes
In the middle of a green grass field
With bees drunkily stumbling by
On sweet mother Gaia’s nectar.
I want to make love to you
So that you feel the ocean rise
And swell
And lightly float around
From pink-red starfish tides
And the slow rush
Of retreating and surfaced seaweed
That entangles your every sense
As you submit to its enveloping wetness.
I want to make love to you there
Where sheets become props
And danger lurks within our eyes
Like phantoms who’ve been hiding
For generations.
I want to be there with you
For when you play lightly the strings
Of your most sensitive song
I shall be listening
So intent on your tune.
Tag: sheet
Seed (day 2940)
Welcome to an ancient seed
Lost into a diagram
Sold into a paradigm
That missed one houndred marks.
So then the ancient seed becomes
Lost into translation,
A whisper of diagnosis
Spread out onto sheets.
Then when all is lost,
When all notes are acquired
Seed will grow, continually,
No matter stretch of road.
Not Forgotten Blank Pages of Notebooks (day 2702)
Though a design been made
She walked away
Rode the early train beyond
Sleeping city limits been had
Of her dear lover’s abode
She watched the skyline
Grow so gold
Missing not a ray
That shone right through
Triple glazed
Windows of her steel steed
Tears had formed
Of condensate
Rolling down the glass
Reminding her
To borrow time
Upon her sheets
A rhyme.
Dirt Bag in Sunglasses (day 2437)
I’m a dirt bag in sunglasses
With my mind in a castle
Watching the sunrise
Crystal bottle of gin
Too many memories
I’d forgotten to renew
Washed off in tap water
Read it all by candlelight
And a mattress with a bed sheet.
Promised Sea (day 2260)
My silence awaits kindess of
Ten thousand open sails
Journey to a mountain top
In depths of an ancient sea
While o’r each wooden rail
I send my unwritten sheets
That blow away promises made
In a forest made of sleeves.
Softly Cried the Orchid (day 2189)
My shallow scoop has left graceful dents
Upon the eves of my tomorrow;
Pondering a moment here leaves me
Wishing I hadn’t left my tear
So delicately upon your shoulder.
I grew an orchid that cried so softly
When the rhythm of the moon filled
Each crystal chalice with translucent waves
Softly swirling in my hand
Wishing I wasn’t so damn ready.
And as I watched the sun gallop
Over the Eastern horizon from my chair,
I hummed a tune in my favorite key of D
So low it had rumblings of a tumbling dream
Which pressed me between cold sheets for another day to begin.
I Said Goodbye / Floated On (day 2154)
You know you were my everything
I tied two knots to secure
I had clouds in every step
And then I floated on.
You became a ghost of everything
I saw your shadows down the hall
I closed each book with tear stained sheets
And then I sang my song.
You let me handle everything
I knew it was your way
I signed my life upon the dotted line
And to you I said goodbye.
You now have yourself everything
I see your stones and leather shine
I broke away and floated on
And now you don’t have me.
Sheets and Tables (day 1938)
So then it opened
And all blasphemies
And horrors
Were spilled out
Upon sheets and tables
That forevermore
Reeked of lost innocence
Crunched by time’s cloth
Please Remember Me (day 1845)
Please remember me,
I didn’t dream happily
And hold small tokens
And watch butterflies
And catch fireflies
And memorize good songs
And delicately embrace my heart
And clean sheets
And Sunday saunter
And leave exposed
Delicate parts of my soul
To be forgotten
Amidst tomorrow’s dreams.
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?