Trust.
That elusive thing.
That joy-Spring given,
that promise made.
when words pass your lips,
and I, like a fool,
take you in.
You know I want to believe,
these human needs?
Friendship,
Trust,
and Hope eternal.
Past recalled,
knowing I should not..
Liken to cat-fishing,
friendship-mocked.
wishing, holding,
watchful all-along.
and trust,
like light on the horizon,
rainbow after rain,
promises made.
sliding sand,
beach battered
words.
Trust, but wait..
Trust, but watch.
Trust, but hope.
friendship won't be announced
like a call to dinner
no it will slip through the tracks,
on a bridge for trains long abandoned..
like sunlight through a grate.
It'll seep into the cracks,
down the deep well,
like a long-distance flood.
It'll mix into the dark
and let that ink bleed away..
tap-out the sadness
that's kept company all the days.
friendship happens
like the breeze that has blown
away a favorite hat.
that secret laugh that only
is known what it means,
all is well.. no need to tell.
no need to speak..
Just let it happen if it's wanted.
wake up in that light, let it shine
deep in the gutters of the soul.
and brighten things up around here.
friendship wont' be announced.
find it good,
spinning words
into story
story into langue..
words of history
and of community.
spreading emotion
through the text.
forming connections
from spirit and heart
family and tongue.
with bended knee
we sit in shadows
watching as the world walks by,
heads down,
eyes transfixed,
wires dangle from ears,
and screens glow..
the random scream,
a few laughs and
squeaking wheels
as carts pulled behind,
pass by.
i watch you walking,
serious and tired.
an exhausted smile
on your face.. pushing,
no, pulling..
another saunter along.
everyone has a place
to go,
a place to be.. quickly.
i watch and wait and while
the hour goes.. reading
everything
in your body language and
hope to give encouragement..
and pass my day,
give a smile back to me,
once you've made it
your own.
Will you
remember me
when all the days go by?
While I wait
for you.
Through rainy days,
and
sun-dappled green
wind-wrested mornings..
I breathe the sigh,
and wonder why
I should wait
but willing,
I do.
Because.
I hope for you.
If I can't be pretty,
let me be worthwhile.
let me be a part of this,
the circle of your smiles.
Let me be filled with
your goodwill and your joy.
let me know you in
conversation,
even discreetly,
but personably,
deserving your esteem.
If I can't be pretty,
let me (at least) be worthwhile.
09 July 2016
edited & posted
11 July 2016
for you,
i would do most anything.
just to spend time.
to talk
or see your face,
to be with you,
within the circle
of your grace.
i would keep my hands
to myself
always,
so as not to hug,
or hold or scare you,
dear to me that you are.
i would keep my place.
if you would have the time.
Patience,
to call you mine
if only
for those short,
infrequent times.
Even if you don't,
I love you just the same.
I see you
in your flaws,
your pale perfection
and intellect.
I see your bright-eyed
wonder
and smile.
I see the glow you hold,
and only want to
circumnavigate,
or at least to live
within the orbit
of your presence
as you travel through.
My sun is always shining
brightly upon you,
and radiating
and reflecting,
absorbing..
the perfect un-perfectness
this.
that glow that is very just you.
I live for moments,
the many days,
where the earth aligns
just right, the tilt..
your hello like waves,
your smile like a welcome shore,
your words are like hope
I bundle within
with string
and joy
and light.
and even if you
actually have rejected me,
Oh, but I love you just the same.
so close.
to touch,
within reach.
but here,
i keep my hands
to myself.
want.
stretching upward
arms wide
reach outward,
hands grasp
out..
the desire to touch
your mouth.
your face, so close..
admiring
the bend of your arm,
the curve of a thigh,
your knee,
calves tight..
or the foot
and its ankle,
(its perfect companion..)
all within reach
but so far,
the blood
flows
only through me,
to all points beyond,
my nerves awake,
and heat
to my face.
i keep my hands
to myself.
so close.
create
this lesson.
to not be ashamed.
to not live
without.
to not fear me,
or love or
what it can gain.
creating a path.
to carry you along.
to not be without,
to be good to
myself.
to love free,
and open communicate
simple talk,
simple want,
simple virtue,
and to complete.
to be whole,
instead of this
part.
created in duress,
because I know not.
clearing this mess
i call my life..
it's not only you.
it's just my fixes..
for blue sky view.
focusing inward,
the turns got dark..
constructing a path,
removing the stress.
keeping the good,
and grateful to know,
(including you)
disentangle the guilt,
keeping the clean
keeping the love;
building a dream.
changing my life,
becoming what i should.
love.
all stop;
exiting through,
hate leaving you!
the time ends quite quick,
time until we meet again
unknown, the interval passes.
precious want and impatience felt.
(assuming I did this right, should be accompanying number of syllables per line..)
what i could do
with
those missed views!
the shots i
could
take.
my eyes are not
yours,
you shoot,
but
you don't shoot
like me..
the things i see!
the way the
sky
hits
ground,
the angle..
that light sound.
the way red
meets brown.
no
light
meter,
no firing flash.
no need.
let the sun
do its
work..
let the night
drip sex
and the fog smoke.
let people touch..
let light
enter
the iris
and the moment
pass..
let me look,
and let you see.
let us both
make a memory.
oh,
what i could do,
if i had that chance.
pretty
the picture
but lost the moment,
if we don't
advocate
for our own
desires.
still the water
dripping in the basin..
still the showers
pounding at the door..
silence the waves,
cool the steam,
warm the air..
let nothing move.
let nothing speak.
practical silence..
and the beating heart.
peace.
I say I'm sorry because I'm supposed to be..
I wasn't supposed to be here.
I should have been buried
in someone's backyard like an old bone.
I say I'm sorry because I'm supposed to be..
I should have been drowned in a tub..
or thrown down the stairs.. (that's what she did.)
or just left out in the cold to die.
I say I'm sorry because I'm supposed to..
I should have just killed myself
when I had the chance, but I didn't.
I don't want to leave a mess,
or inconvenience anyone, or put anyone out.
I say I'm sorry because I'm supposed to be..
I'm an inconvenience to the world.
People are busy and don't have time.
People have lives.. not mine.
I say I'm sorry because I'm supposed to be.
I don't express myself right & get confusing.
If I don't know an answer, that's OK..
don't bother people, they are busy.
I have nothing today.. so it's a reworked poem.. (because everything I write is awful..) This one from 1989.. one of a very few of my own poems I have mostly memorized..
To Melt (To Say I am Hooked)
the words, they stumble
from my lips.
the words, they form..
not too quick.
i lack the art
to express myself,
to tell you how i feel.
to say i like you,
(i like you a lot!)
you do me over,
with just one look.
and i melt like butter
from head to hips
(to toe..)
i melt. to say i am hooked.
Sensibility
Alas: love..
when my head
catches up
with my heart.
Oh! the dam burst!
Oh! the weeping!
the despair.
Oh! the love that
can not be
shouted!
can not be shared
right now..
can not be given but
quietly.
through
silent meditation
and hope.
through kind
thoughts
and wishes.
through
silent energy
poured forth
in waves of muse..
through skies of
blue
and teary, gray-clouded,
splattering
thunder-rattling rain!
restless
night wandering..
floor pacing
contemplating
friendship
hoping,
helpful wanting to be..
of service to you.
a cup.
a hand.
a foot.
a friend..
a heart on mend.
(reworked poem)
Today. Not Yesterday.
Today.
Not Yesterday.
(though
such an
amazing Person
still.)
The Person
I see
before me now,
is the one whom
in my thoughts
dwell.
The path you
travel,
makes you
who you are
now.
The many
experiences
that
shaped you,
and makes you
so fine.
the Person
I want
so much
to know..
your
every
brilliant facet!
to hold
in my hand
your beautiful
sparkle;
and always within
your presence..
You bundle of
life!
i breath the history
i wear it like a cloak.
the harm you do;
the shame it coats..
like sludge
on the heart.
weighing down thick
the hurt you do
to your fellow man.
you have a stain,
that won't wash off.
you wear it like a badge.
I see it as an open wound.
The Invisible
I must be
invisible:
a place-holder
for the real.
I haunt the places
I walk
and hope you
will see me..
I am
aware
and
definitely
can see
you.
you exist
whole
and complete
and..
You must know
you are good.
and I am
just myself.
(which isn't
so bad given a chance..)
Late Night Again
sleep.
the world
has put a blanket
over its head..
soon
i must
but for
a short time,
then awake.
dreaming
brief.
i hope
for you..
that your
slumber
is peaceful.
and rest comes
easily to you.
oh, that you were
mine
to tell..
oh, that you were
my friend to share!
the world cracking
pain
around my heart
happy
joy
and weep-weary silence.
the
leaking!
cracking!
split!
Just to say
I love you.
be grateful
to know you.
to have release.
to know peace..
and
return in kind.
to not be afraid!
and let heart
meet mind.
to know.
for it
all to be fine.
and I am yours
in most all things..
(in time)
especially friendship.
*reworked poem
If I were a place
where would I be?
the place i came from
or this place I long to be?
The journey
isn't the destination,
the destination
isn't the place.
The adventures we have
build us,
travel makes us strong.
i could read you every day,
i could learn a phrase.
i would live on air,
i would breath your fire.
Today's Prompt.. doubles or pairs.. (which I could not honestly come up with much.)
silence is not a friend,
it's a growing hunger
and thirst.
it digs in deep..
it revels in the pain;
a seeming unending
aching for the word.
Worthy of So Much
A fool for you
perhaps.
If you asked.
I would:
take a challenge,
take your word..
I would exist
on silent crusade
and sing for you.
I would learn
a new world for you.
Not for weakness,
but for love
for friendship
that is yet to form.
even if left empty
and alone,
I would do for you.
because I judge it so
worthy of so much,
and perhaps,
if I'm lucky,
I won't be a fool
but something more.
The Things They Did
it scars the soul,
the things they did.
but we should live
and bear witness.
and bear the pain.
share the knowing.
and never forget.
and never forget.
it scars the heart
the things they did.
but we should live
and sing our songs
and dance our dance
rejoice for the joy.
but never forget.
but never forget.
when lines meet.
and intersect,
the wind plays
like a harp
across the sky.
reverberate
and jump
and Spring..
birds sing..
such
romantic things!
stormy wet fog
rising over the hills.
rainy Saturday
Berkeley..
watching
from windows..
still.
fog & light,
i imagine
far across the bay..
bridges between,
safety..
pondering the day.
1120am
I wish I could translate
the thoughts of your mind..
the way you smile,
as if sharing
your very own secret.
beauty
is something that lights
from within..
you radiate like the sun.
9 April 2015 (yes a day late)
Bridges, Rock Walls and Dams
Like birds on a wire
or lemmings on a ledge,
people peer over,
as if at a hedge.
The air is floating,
like in that dream,
where base jumpers
leap into canyons,
catching an airstream.
But me, I am grounded.
A dead weight,
I would not fly;
but sink like a
blood-filled stone.
I would not die.
I would only
break a few bones,
thus.. I would never try.
chocolate
I love you
though we've
not always seen
eye-to-eye.
the days I wanted
for you,
you made me sick.
my wheezing
tongue-swelling
attack
called me out.
there was no
point in
sneaking you in,
when you
raise the alarm
immediately.
I'm so glad
I've gotten older,
you've acclimated
to me.
now I savor you
your meltiness,
dark or milk,
or salty caramel,
sticky sweet,
you become
one with me.
that phenylalanine
rush of good
feeling
I only get from
you
(and the occasional
lemon square.)
Today's Prompt (food poem)
I live without a mirror
or an honest critic.
I live without advice.
I don't know what is
preferable but I see
what others like..
you can be assured.
but I can't say that
I am any of those things,
certainly not perky or sweet
not sinewy or ethereal,
not sparkling or desired.
but I can't say I'm too hideous,
though I've seen younger days.
I react easily when engaged,
and am solid and steadfast.
I thrive in sun and wind,
and don't mind the rain,
darkness does no harm,
but only when I'm game.
No I am not a prize winner,
certainly no rose, no flower,
though my color isn't bad.
I blush when fussed over
like anyone, and grow
in your daily ardor.
instead I work within
from deep inside,
where hearts take root;
and burn with a hidden fire.
I am good company for everyone,
and will not complain
if not offered a drink..
but like a vine I wind,
and come to life in your light.
I try to be patient and quiet
and with the right attention,
hope that's what you'll desire.
Today's Prompt (aeed packets)
a janky poem a day.. this is getting hard. I don't get inspired very often so forcing me to come up with something every day just makes it worse. Blah.. and now, the "cruelest month" prompt, (are months cruel??)
A long Summer..
the cruelest time
is when we are away..
no exams to be had
but set adrift..
to make our own plans.
to stack up the books
or binge on films,
or hike up the hills!
or hunker down..
ponder death..
take a long trip
or a sleep in the sun.
clear out the gutter,
re-layer some paint..
find a hobby or
just contemplate.
don't waste time
but get things done..
today's prompt.. "the cruelest month"
I
oh I adore you..
you are beautiful
and fine.
I fill my cup
with your true kindness
and could drink you up
for all time.
II
oh when you leave
I am in such sadness,
your heart
is dearly pure.
when I am with you
comes the contentment
and I am fulfilled.
2day's prompt ("fan letter")
My brothers and myself.. Bob on the left, and Craig on the right.. one of my favorite photos of the three of us..
Type 1
"A trail of crumbs
in the garage
and on the bathroom sink.."
not from me but you.
"Where would I get the money
for "Suzy Qs"
or Hostess Pies?"
I ask but am told..
you are full of lies.
No one knows, but you,
and why should I blame
a big brother
sneaking treats..
regardless that
these feats mean death;
I used to envy you..
by the time the sickness comes
the evidence is long gone.
As for me, my lungs collapse,
the passages shrink
and like a fish out of water
I gasp, I grasp, and choke.
Asthma is no joke.
Kids like sweets;
and always found out.
today's prompt something about family.. this one about my brother Bob who passed March 2011..
ambivalence
looking forward, but
feeling sad.
wanting; not to lose..
NaPoWriMo: 30 days, 30 poems. Fortunately we're easing into it: above was my attempt at a lune, (today's prompt)
les mots (the words)
I could be trapped in a box
with you
the time spread
ahead of us
exploring
each other's tongue.
I would be brave
and say the things
trapped in my mouth
and melting like candy.
les belles paroles
trapped in my heart
aching to escape..
We read in places,
hearing stories heard before..
In this, a white space..
We know the story,
knowing it well
(without the prequels)
But what if..if you saw it all,
could you be content
to return now and to forget?
Could you go on
without knowing
any.. a thing..
about the People
that came before?
Is the story still whole?
(or only when a sum of its parts)
Are those broken pieces
still worth putting together?
What if that
broken mosaic
creates
a web of confusion and
frustration
even when complete..
where lies
pieces of unknowable facts?
and what if the past is full
of ugliness
and nothing good?
Nothing good.
Two-faced: the white space kills
the songs and stories
drowned out, die.
questions unanswered.
sigh
and moan,
"Why would we want to know,
other than
to understand?"
Do we need to understand,
if the understanding
is nothing
but pain
and frustration?
and here we wait,
in this questioning place.
Do we need to know?
Am I any less broken if I know?
