Closing my eyes against this real light,
I see warm red through my eyelids
And if I stretch my hand out blind like this
I can imagine caressing your face,
Turning your chin up to taste your full lips
And the salt tang of the sea
That has faerie dusted them.
Hanging out in trees and lagoons;
Spray-painting abandoned concrete;
Stacking records on the autoplay spindle
And rearranging my room
To the crackle of spinning vinyl;
Romping pell-mell over islands
Chased by hunter dogs and fat wild boars;
Floods of experience wrapped in whispers of red hair,
The clickety-clack of eight wheels and nine inch nails.
I know that my every effort to erase what we’ve done
Has come to naught but a floodgate
Open wide of oh my god
I never forgot, only forgot to remember.
Posts Tagged ‘Kiss’
Floodgate
Posted: February 14, 2002 in PoetryTags: Boar, Dog, Eight, Eye, Faerie, God, Island, Kiss, Laura, Light, Nine, Records, Red, Salt, Sea, Tree, Vinyl
Introducing the Muse
Posted: December 7, 1994 in PoetryTags: Beauty, Drum, Eye, Flesh, Flowers, Heart, Kiss, Magic, Soul, Sound, Spell, Spirit
I wonder, as the Poet,
if you care what I say here;
these words may only be
patterns or statistics to you.
The appreciation is when organs move
— some passing of spirit
through your flesh,
a Magick spell which,
uttered, or even read,
evokes a thump on the heart-drum or
a tangle of the air in your lungs.
When the eyes are slightly moistened
beyond necessity or that which can be played off,
when the lips subconsciously part or move with the sound
as if to kiss the flowering thoughts,
to sip from the cup of each syllable
— then the letters become words,
translated back into ideas,
reconstructed in a different mind,
personalized to a different environment
— accurately speculated back to
the willpower of imagination that birthed the poem.
My Muse:
she is a bashful widow who hangs her veils thick,
like laundry on a street with no electricity.
A glimpse of the rare beauty,
your eyes to her holiness,
always too quick for detail, yet
that soul-string hums
with some instinctual empathy.
I tend to stutter during introductions
because I never get it just right.
Living a Steady Tautness
Posted: February 12, 1994 in PoetryTags: Beautiful, Coffee, Kiss, Mind, Sleep, Time, Water
Sort of a beautiful frantic hustle
Trying to be effortless;
Carrying motion into motion
From mailbox to appointment
To bank to work to a kiss.
At home to sleep to wake early,
Relax for a moment,
Gather those thoughts,
Hands around a cup of coffee,
Half-finished for a lack of time.
A free moment should show productivity
At least on paper;
Never allow for slack of mind
Because any lack of tension
Leads to play in the rigging
Which must be taken in later —
Running a watertight ship
Is a stair of preventative steps
To make living a steady tautness,
And dying a deserved rest.
For Dawn
Posted: November 24, 1993 in PoetryTags: Bed, Blanket, Blue, Dawn, Eye, Kiss, Love, Shoes, Sky, Smile
I know I could live
without you here,
but it wouldn’t be something
I’d choose.
My bed is empty;
I’m tired and lonely,
my blankets worn
like the soles of shoes.
I miss you madly,
your cotton kisses,
your blushing smile,
and sea-blue eyes.
Only when you
return to love me
will I enjoy these blue skies.
we write poems when our tongues tie
together in my mouth, behind your lips;
unspoken words like unnoticed snow
in the shade of a tree in the high mountains.
when the dew-drops poise
on blades of grass I like to
wait until they fall
before I kiss your smooth brow
when I must wake you from sleep.
I want to keep you forever, Fa –
you are a reminder of
my wonderful history with her
and you have never changed.
you, covered in lasting kisses,
big blue eyes made of waves
and ocean breadths –
you know where my spoon ring went.
Imitation of Jazzie B from Soul II Soul
Posted: January 18, 1993 in PoetryTags: Blue, Clock, Eye, Kiss, Love, Rock, Shoes, Song, Storm, Window
check this out:
I keep on moving don’t stop the clock
I can’t keep on without the tick-tock so I
I walk on, rock on, keeping my shoes on
I hear you sigh and sing the blues on the corner
by the storefront windows. I stop and I listen.
I remember us doing some kissin’
but I cannot live as I was doing:
chasing you around, forgiving, boo-hooing.
roads are there to walk and choices abound
I know I’ll see you around town because
I still love you just as much as ever
I miss your clear eyes and your stormy weather.
a piano reminds me of a lonely day song
that I played for all the times that I know I’ve been wrong,
but I change my tune to keep you grooving,
and like Soul II Soul I gotta keep on moving.
if you come to me,
I will be whatever you need.
I will kiss your tears,
I will be your strength,
you just need to call on me.
I can’t tell you
what the answers will be,
but I’ll hold you tight
against all your fears,
you just need to call on me.
I was born
playing racquetball
against a page like this.
sometimes this was all
I had to do
to keep myself warm
in the nighttime of the fall,
in the yonder of the blue
when there wasn’t you
to kiss.
I wiped the spittle
from the side of my mouth.
I really didn’t like kissing her;
she always wanted me to,
I know she did the way
she always looked into my eyes
and how she would
run up and hug me,
throwing her arms around me
to hold on – that’s all most everyone
wants is to touch someone else
and not have them flinch,
but it is hard to tell
someone you’re kissing
that they don’t know how to.
You Really Should
Posted: May 9, 1991 in PoetryTags: Bones, Dreams, Eat, Imagination, Kiss, Lightning, Naked, Time
I am here to waste your time.
come: step into my world of castles,
Legos, action figures, Transformers, things
only found in active imaginations
caged in flesh, hair, and bone.
come. follow me through idle dreams.
I am here to waste your time.
I am here to slap you with lightning.
a candy bar you know you want to eat.
never let yourself never let your S-E-L-F.
I am here to tell you what I see.
I dream. I feel. I want to tell you:
waste your time; it’s yours to waste.
come,
I am here to waste your time.
startled, surprised: it’s fun!
it’s good, so sharp, like biting your tongue.
get drunk on it, spin it around,
waste your time or don’t then.
listen to it with the volume way up.
relax. I am here to let you play my Nintendo.
yes you can. you deserve it.
you can do what you want; run naked.
make a mess. run me over with a lawnmower.
give me a big kiss. eat all of those cookies.
I am here to help you
waste your time.
ain’t nothin’ like sleepin’ butt nekid.
ain’t nothin’ like a full body stretchin’ yawn.
ain’t nothin’ like rollin’ in warm laundry.
ain’t nothin’ like a lazy day.
ain’t nothin’ finishin’ a good book.
ain’t nothin’ like likin’ yourself.
ain’t nothin’ like a good kisser.
ain’t nothin’ like funny Sunday comics.
Questions to be Asked of the Closet
Posted: February 11, 1991 in PoetryTags: Closet, Dark, Kiss, Love
it’s dark and she giggles
then tentatively whispers my name;
I stand silent
breathing hard
but oh so quiet,
covered in the blankets of darkness.
again she stretches
to call out my name,
question marks solidifying,
echoing away.
I know exactly where she is,
six inches away;
she’s reaching for me,
asking, yielding.
I could seize her throat
and crush her breath
with a lazy hand;
I could kiss her
here in the dark
and tell her that I love her.
ask the closet.
Melanicus by Phone
Posted: December 27, 1990 in PoetryTags: Blood, Friend, Girl, Hacksaw, Kiss, Lead, Melanicus, September, Smile
Yes, Melanicus came to me
With a hacksaw and my jugular vein
He said that these belonged to me
Then smiled and said my girlfriend
Kissed him just last night.
First I said thank you for my hacksaw
And apologized for his neck wound
Second, I offered him a needle and thread;
He said “I’m fine, I have already bled”.
Then I took my jugular back
Replaced the lead pipe I was using
He offered me a rusty straight razor blade
I acquiesced politely with the flourish I made
Third I said she had already told me
About your dimension adventures in the roof of your mouth
I know you back from the 24th of September
1971 – you’re my father, remember?
Why?
Why does it have to be this way?
When the fabric of my mind is beginning to fray
Like a bolt of lightning, straight from above
I ask myself, do I deserve your love?
Why?
Why is it always like this?
We laugh, we argue, we fight, we kiss.
I can’t believe it, that you really care
Almost like a game of truth or dare.
Why?
Why is it so hard to say goodbye?
You can make me laugh, you can make me cry.
It’s such a great feeling being in your arms;
Cover me, smother me, in your charms.
Why?
Why can’t I understand
That magic I feel when I hold your hand.
Like electricity through my veins
Soothing and healing my many pains.
Why?
I really believe you’re heaven sent
Hold me, love me, through and through
I’m so lucky because I have you.
Why?
But I Missed
Posted: June 23, 1987 in PoetryTags: Dark, Eye, Girl, Hell, Kiss, Laughter, Life, Love, Pain, Rain, Sea, Storm, Tears, Window
I’ll cry for her
I’ll die for her
Yet she sits there, deep in thought.
How dear she is
How near she is
But it’s all…it’s all for naught.
I can see the rain
Streak the windowpane
Like the tears glistening in her eyes
Anything I say
Makes her turn away
As she stolidly, silently cries.
But I love her so much that it hurts sometimes
For within my life she’s like a jewel that shines
And feel so useless when I see her this way
I wish there was something that I could say
Against the wall
Doing nothing at all
Thinking of her, alone in her chair
Never ending stints
Of vigilance
How much about us does she care?
What twist of fate
Does she contemplate
At times like this, that course is so easy
It must be hell
Locked up in that cell
Lost in the dark in such misery.
I’m awake all night because I love her so much
But now she cringes from the slightest touch
Oh let me guide her through these stormy seas
Let me help her, hold her, please
I will always love her
And I shall cover
My face so she can’t see my pain
She is so grim
Filled to the brim
With agony that drives her insane
She’s taken abuse
That’s much too profuse
For anybody in this world to take
And I’m not reassured
That it’s now up to her
‘Cause she has a decision to make
Won’t someone help her, don’t pass her by
This wonderful girl with the gleam in her eye
I would give up my life if hers I could save
But it’s no use putting lilies on her grave
She’s going, going, away on the sea
And I’ll never know if she ever loved me
That laughter I loved, those lips that I kissed
I tried to catch her fall
…but I missed.
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