I watched a year swing by
without actually watching the time.
I saw almost nothing in the present.
Not my graduating joy.
Or your roses.
Or the ocean's strength.
Blind eyes that leak.
Ears that hear a moment's selection.
Hands that hold... And hold on.
A mind that locks memory at
-a landscape
-a realization
-a sound
-a feeling
-words written & read &
spoken with power,
but have seen no action.
A heart as open & warm as a box of kittens...
In the pouring sleet.
Bring the rain on,
I've been waiting for a reason to scream.
Showing posts with label sweet literary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sweet literary. Show all posts
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
A Need for Four Seasons
When the winter life rolls in, takes over,
Freezes my will to oppose it...
Your strong hands, intently holding mine
And your whisper to turn my back against the icy wind,
to look across at the warm return...
that's when I need you most.
And spring comes along,
with much rain and grey-sky,
with it's draining trenches...
But somewhere in the distance
you've pointed at some silver clouds,
you draw my hand to trace it- and
when I find it easier to laugh,
I look up to understand immediately
that this is when I need you the most.
But summer's heat does not mix
with my hair, altho the sun begs it to
be friends with long-distances kisses.
So I am bothered, sick, and
trying my hardest to
love, love, love air conditioning.
You insist that I keep dancing,
you fan me with gentle stories
to ease my many weary days.
And as I breathe easy, I fall asleep re-living
your compassion & patience;
I realize today was when I needed you most.
Then fall set in, but your hands
were tired from the year, and you would not tell me.
So I brought out a tucked-away letter,
written while I had waited up for your call one summer evening.
It read of how special you make
me feel every day of every season,
and how each one before us had been terribly incomplete.
"When you don't know what you don't have- what you don't know you ARE missing- the world can seem a felicity place. But with you, my world is brand new and I won't explore it alone."
You remembered that night,
Now your laugh lines pulled tight-
and I kissed your forehead like you
had kissed mine.
And I knew I had never needed you more.
----
xoxo, bex.
Freezes my will to oppose it...
Your strong hands, intently holding mine
And your whisper to turn my back against the icy wind,
to look across at the warm return...
that's when I need you most.
And spring comes along,
with much rain and grey-sky,
with it's draining trenches...
But somewhere in the distance
you've pointed at some silver clouds,
you draw my hand to trace it- and
when I find it easier to laugh,
I look up to understand immediately
that this is when I need you the most.
But summer's heat does not mix
with my hair, altho the sun begs it to
be friends with long-distances kisses.
So I am bothered, sick, and
trying my hardest to
love, love, love air conditioning.
You insist that I keep dancing,
you fan me with gentle stories
to ease my many weary days.
And as I breathe easy, I fall asleep re-living
your compassion & patience;
I realize today was when I needed you most.
Then fall set in, but your hands
were tired from the year, and you would not tell me.
So I brought out a tucked-away letter,
written while I had waited up for your call one summer evening.
It read of how special you make
me feel every day of every season,
and how each one before us had been terribly incomplete.
"When you don't know what you don't have- what you don't know you ARE missing- the world can seem a felicity place. But with you, my world is brand new and I won't explore it alone."
You remembered that night,
Now your laugh lines pulled tight-
and I kissed your forehead like you
had kissed mine.
And I knew I had never needed you more.
----
Labels:
beauty,
fall,
Poetism,
spring,
summer,
sweet literary,
tuesday treat,
we,
winter
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Aquamarine Nerves
Cool fingertips rest on the lap.
Unsure.
Think about it, are they shaking?
They're not moving, but are they pulsing?
He's good, but does he know?
He's breathtaking, but is he breathing?
Letter three, and twenty three... about seven or forty times a day,
it crosses, multiplying above my head.
Letters, these forms of two dimensional life,
make the heart in my body
go pitter-patter.
The heart in my body is his.
He loves it, but will he take it?
Wearing down,
the tread?
the rhythm?
the days 'til love
breaks apart every nerve you have left?
Wearing down of a smile?
Wearing down of fear?
The wearing of a smile?
The smile that renders me weak?
Blush? Melt?
Yes.
The one that creates possibility.
Accept all answers
with a nod, and a questioning smile.
I won't speak, but keep asking
with ocean eyes.
Do I wear you down?
With my letters?
With my eyes?
Or can I cook you dinner?
which is it?
xo, bex.
---------------------------------
Unsure.
Think about it, are they shaking?
They're not moving, but are they pulsing?
He's good, but does he know?
He's breathtaking, but is he breathing?
Letter three, and twenty three... about seven or forty times a day,
it crosses, multiplying above my head.
Letters, these forms of two dimensional life,
make the heart in my body
go pitter-patter.
The heart in my body is his.
He loves it, but will he take it?
Wearing down,
the tread?
the rhythm?
the days 'til love
breaks apart every nerve you have left?
Wearing down of a smile?
Wearing down of fear?
The wearing of a smile?
The smile that renders me weak?
Blush? Melt?
Yes.
The one that creates possibility.
Accept all answers
with a nod, and a questioning smile.
I won't speak, but keep asking
with ocean eyes.
Do I wear you down?
With my letters?
With my eyes?
Or can I cook you dinner?
which is it?
xo, bex.
---------------------------------
Labels:
Can't sleep,
LOVE,
Poetism,
sweet literary
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