Old Songs and Other Angels
I am quick to confess
my uncertainty in God.
In lieu of proof
I turn to what is seen, and felt.
The Sun lights my way,
Warms my skin,
And provides sustenance
While offering two visible miracles per day.
What better God could be?
What more should be asked of one?
In the absence of another
It is the sun renders a bearable world.
And when needing an Angel from this other God,
Kay, you shone the brightest in His light.
You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy…
The covers wear into their inevitable softness
Let the sheers shudder over a crying morning
Fall into a blushing night
There is someone always reaching into the center of the knot
There is a crooked finger
A scratching nail
A freckled chest takes the bullet
How could I do anything but,
I’m learning swan dives in the key of delusions on high
But there is someone many-limbed, hands outstretched
There is a net of appendages
I watch the sprouting of arms on the heart of patience
Watch the cradle of my body against concrete
Feel the statues buckle
I miss the sound of echoes
See here, how we build a tolerance
I walk, not run, from the wreckage
How could I do anything without
I drag knees to sleep inside you
You won’t have to ask
I scrape my way to roll against you
How could I do anything but,
Lace my bones into your frame
How I learn to stay
Take a Dahlia for my eternal love
Feel the same keen singing of the rain
Fall back into the flame of my desire.
Here is a Pansy because I think of you
Twirled in the wave of an autumn night
Light of the morning, the rosy dawn,
Light of my youth, through the dusky morning.
Finally, a Hawthorne because I hope one day you will love me.
Blossom, seeds planted a decade ago,
Growth and change turned into
a comfortable flow of water
Between my heart and mind,
A box of milk chocolates doesn't matter,
Neither does a balloon ride,
Or a bouquet of roses,
Love transcends man-made things,
Affection is the nail that holds
together a relationship
From the first second,
Your stars held me across our universe,
When I was drifting in the dark aimlessly.
a poem for my love
When you write a poem write one for me
My love said as I lay down on the bed
I closed my eyes to see what I could see
And visions of her danced inside my head
She's strong and brave and kind, my darling wife
She smiles and launches ships by accident
I’m blessed to be with her to share my life
A quarter of a century well spent
There’s so much more to her than meets the eye
although the eye is happily well met
She focuses on do and not on try
She understands the equity of sweat
I’m proud to be the man to hold her hand
And by my wedded bride I’ll always stand
Post-It-Note for the Queen
I love you,
more than all the words that I could ever arrange when describing my feelings for you.
I write you,
with my own red ink, into a boundless book, where every page is a new canvas for an unexplored memory that is soon to be written, and my heart is your bookmark.
I offer you,
a speechless love, where every glance I steal, is a syllable with a poetic intonation, and every touch we make is a sentence that runs on infinitely.
every open wound, my biggest fears, and reveal the deepest truths into your precious ear while you are sound asleep living in another world, where I hope, you don't forget to wear your crown.
the cure to my existential crisis
you are the breeze
that stirs the lake
of my soul,
crusted with algae
pushed into motion
by the force of you.
the mold that collects
in my corners
is scrubbed away
by your words.
you brush the dust
from my heart
and assure me
of my own existence.
and on the days
when i don't know
who i am
you assure me
that i'm exactly
what i need
any form, love
for you, my darling,
any form of love will do:
sickly sweet like cherry juice
dripping off our chins
like the words and worlds
we've always shared.
comfortingly close like raindrops
falling like sprinkles
across rooftops glittering
with afternoon sunlight.
unknowingly oblivious like eyelashes
trembling on warm cheeks
and the soft shifting of our
eyes trying to find our way in the dark.
timidly tragic, like sailboats
drifting further and further to sea,
unanchored and tiny in the
swirling and hungry waves.
finally flowering like red lilies
rainwater runoffs and
you'll find me here,
and one day maybe i'll show this for you,
if you ever change your mind about poetry.