I don’t know
If I believe in soulmates
Or fate

But if you told me
That something
Or someone
Had planned for us to meet
And made each of us
For the other

My darling I don’t know
If I would be able
To argue

You are
Everything I always dreamed of
And
Everything
I could’ve never imagined

it was much heavier than I expected
the cherry-wood box
all that's left of you
it was heavier than the news of your death
but not nearly as heavy as the loss of you
every moment you weren't there when I was a child.
you taught me a lot,
not directly,
but your absence taught me everything
about loneliness
about pretending to be strong
during my weakest times
it taught me how to do time
without expecting anyone to be there
and no one ever was
but you're finally with me,
now that you're gone.
the news of losin' you wasn't
what I expected it to be
that cherry-wood box was a lot
heavier than I thought it'd be
I wish I had a softer past
so I could cry for you
like I ought to be
but my baby, she cries for you, for me
and it helps
I miss you like I always have
it's just different now

If I could transcribe behind your eyes,
I’d see the times they’ve sunk and cried,
The shadows of pain you’ve held inside,
And all the needs you’ve been denied.

You don't speak much on heartache,
Or insecurities you can’t shake,
Breaches of trust, being treated unjust,
Are there fears left concealed, undiscussed?

If I could dive inside your lovely mind,
Swim through your veins, us intertwined,
I’d find exactly how your heart perceives,
Study the language your love receives.

Maybe it's the 'I love you's throughout the day,
Or these poems, though limited in what I can say,
Even a warm meal after work on a cold day,
Or perhaps it's those weekends we spent away.

Mapping responses to our conversations
And how you react to my love demonstrations
I’m looking for clues, all sorts of indications,
Fine tuning the way I love with my observations.

I’ll narrow in, long as you continue to share
Your reception of love–please make me aware,
For, finding your love language is all that I care,
I’ll express my love, I solemnly swear!

come to sight this site
once a fortnight,
the volume, ***,
a straight line curve, - all
fingertips to the sky appointed,
my followed favored poets get
per force, my attention immediatement!

but
costly for/to the new writers
whom with so few (‘cept Le Gomez)
panning for gold, mostly fall posthaste
to add to deep sea coral reefs below
where lower & slower is an unnoticed
state of sleep, you be the carnival barker!
or a Moses
crossing a
black letteral sea, by the hello,
repost please, the new babies,
otherwise they suffocate from
the unintended lack of oxygenation

it’s a small and costly gesture tho
$$$ free, we well risk losing the new perspective, updating jargon (parole gergali!)

we risk absence by obsolescence, if using
old software, astride our high horses,
putting our heads  up our __
in a nosebleed trivial Jeopardy stratosphere

so shrewdly share, share a link or like,
for we all would be dustbin paper, better
suited for beach bonfire shredded kindling
    if someone
had not grasped our words for even more to
love

in and out...
within seconds of time...
now... now not... now...
petals falling...
till no more...
hung...
flower...
still seen?

© 2024 Jim Davis

Derail your anxious train of thought

Open your inner spirit

And enter the dream corridor
like a leaf from a tree in its dying season

Coma come quiet
Airless linger delight

Sacrificial pasts
give you the power
to leave places

The world won't get better
but you will

if you ask me
out of the blue
i know no thoughts
i have no clue
about what all
i'm supposed to do

at any given time

after all
i've hemmed and hawed
kicked the can
but that's not all
empty handed
dropped the ball

at any given time

i've moved beyond
the does and don'ts
straight into
my needs and want's
just happy that
i've yet been caught

at any given time

I should settle for less
but nonetheless
i kind of wished
someone would like me
like i liked you

I no longer carry your marks on my collarbone,
I already stepped off of that throne;
Or did you push me?
I couldn't tell through
The field of gasoline
I found myself in.

And in this tragic end,
I prayed that I could blend,
But I suppose we can only stand,
As tall as we can bend.

I’ve lost track
Because that’s what happens
When the frequency of an event
Is high.
None were the same,
But all had the same ill intent.
Something along the lines of
This body is mine to use
You owe me this
I’ll get what I want.

The flashbacks come like waves,
Changing intensity with the moon.

Much of my life has held the essence of the moon.

I’d sit asking for guidance,
Relief, happiness, help.

It took some time,
My prayers had a way to travel.

Now I sit warmly with the moon,
Discussing how
This is my body to use
I owe myself this
I’ll get what I want.

And through gaining my power back,
The waves calm,
And I thank the moon.

The past has become scars and pains
Trapped in its bars and chains
Let's look towards the stars and move forward with what remains

the moon, shrunken, faint
as pencil, as if the wild nettles
of night carried her loads.
her glazes the raptures of
dancing stars.
her stencil mark a white crescent
leant on cloud.
the trees shudder in the
wind, break their promises,
forgive no one.  
the tide listens to her rhythms,
traps them in water, distils
her victories, unwraps the dark,
stretches it out.

My heart can't quite configure
To keep it all or pull the trigger
My mind can't quite figure
To leave it all or to keep the pressure

Hmmm, I struggle
Nothing to see, nothing to fumble
Watch my lips as I try to mumble
You're the prize, feel the rumble!

I try I try, I cannot deny
My heart yearns for her, so much I could cry
If you could see the vision, by all means do pry
The love I'd give, so good it'll light up the sky.

Vine aquí
como escribo estas líneas,
sin idea fija:
una mezquita azul y verde,
seis minaretes truncos,
dos o tres tumbas,
memorias de un poeta santo,
los nombres de Timur y su linaje.Encontré al viento de los cien días.
Todas las noches las cubrió de arena,
acosó mi frente, me quemó los párpados.
La madrugada:
                            dispersión de pájaros
y ese rumor de agua entre piedras
que son los pasos campesinos.
(Pero el agua sabía a polvo).
Murmullos en el llano,
apariciones
                      desapariciones,
ocres torbellinos
insubstanciales como mis pensamientos.
Vueltas y vueltas
en un cuarto de hotel o en las colinas:
la tierra un cementerio de camellos
y en mis cavilaciones siempre
los mismos rostros que se desmoronan.
¿El viento, el señor de las ruinas,
es mi único maestro?
Erosiones:
el menos crece más y más.En la tumba del santo,
hondo en el árbol seco,
clavé un clavo,
                            no,
como los otros, contra el mal de ojo:
contra mí mismo.
                                  (Algo dije:
palabras que se lleva el viento).Una tarde pactaron las alturas.
Sin cambiar de lugar
                                      caminaron los chopos.
Sol en los azulejos
                                  súbitas primaveras.
En el Jardín de las Señoras
subí a la cúpula turquesa.
Minaretes tatuados de signos:
la escritura cúfica, más allá de la letra,
se volvió transparente.
No tuve la visión sin imágenes,
no vi girar las formas hasta desvanecerse
en claridad inmóvil,
el ser ya sin substancia del sufí.
No bebí plenitud en el vacío
ni vi las treinta y dos señales
del Bodisatva cuerpo de diamante.
Vi un cielo azul y todos los azules,
del blanco al verde
todo el abanico de los álamos
y sobre el pino, más aire que pájaro,
el mirlo blanquinegro.
Vi al mundo reposar en sí mismo.
Vi las apariencias.
Y llame a esa media hora:
Perfección de lo Finito.

Oh, they have them.
Yes, they have plenty.
The secrets men know about you.
But out of respect refuses to divulges them to protect you.

Yes, the secrets men know.
About your past, about your affairs.
About secrets of things, you have done.

Sure, there are some just love to blaze you.
In similar ways most women love to do.

Then when harm comes, they seek to apologize.
Sure, what done in the dark eventually come to light.
Except some never will from the secrets men know.

Poetry is as beautiful as smile of new child
As emotional as new bride

It absorbs all your sad emotions
Gives you ways to unfold new fields of life

It spreads your happiness
to make air aromatic and
fragrant

So dear keep on writing
On the slate of your life

All magic disappears
When the truth settles in
I dreamt of something fleeting
But forgot it shattered a long time ago.

I can see it in your gray eyes that we are not the same,
You have heavier steps, darker shadows, a sadder smile,
While I am benched on the sidelines, a few years too late,
And a billion lightyears away.

I cough words
onto a page,
and hold it up to the world.
They call it art, they call it poetry.

I was a footnote in her book
She was the title of mine
I wish she had stayed a while more
Maybe given me a sign
She is all my eyes let me see
Doesn't matter open or closed
I wanna write her more letters
With the sunflowers enclosed
But she asked me to go away
Asked me to break my own heart
Her words were my gospel
So I use my skin for art

Oh, noche
Mi mal es ir a tientas con alma enardecida
ciego sin lazarillo bajo el azul de enero;
mi pena estar a solas errante en el sendero;
y el peor de mis daños, no comprender la vida.

Mi mal es ir a ciegas, a solas con mi historia,
hallarme aquí sintiendo la luz que me tortura
y que este corazón es brasa transitoria
que arde en la noche pura.

Y venir sin saberlo, tal vez de algún oriente
que el alma en su ceguera vio como un espejismo,
y en ansias de la cumbre que dora un sol fulgente
ir con fatales pasos hacia el fatal abismo.

Con todo, hubiera sido quizás un noble empeño
el exaltar mi espíritu bajo la tarde ustoria
como un perfume santo…
¡Pero si el corazón es brasa transitoria!

Y sin embargo, siento como un perenne ardor
que en el combate estéril mi juventud inmola…
(¡Oh noche del camino, vasta y sola,
en medio de la muerte y del amor!)

You see it all the time
Poems strung out on pain
Shooting up words
destroying refrains
People disguised in their disguise
Pontificating truth in fact lies
Will we be dressed in black tie upon the death as we say adios , goodbye ?
Make this coda dance as the music reaches the sky

Une joie éclate en trois
Temps mesuré de la lyre
Une joie éclate au bois
Que je ne saurais pas dire
Tournez têtes Tournez rires
Pour l'amour de qui
Pour l'amour de quoi

Pour l'amour de moi.

I wake up with only darkness
around me, all this blackness
...No way out and all alone,
I hear a sound in the silence,
so soft that it disappeared.... Disappeared… Disappeared..

So I heard the echo of my voice,
resounding in the sound
of my deepest cry.
What is my name,
what are my desires?
Am I here in an existence,
or am I gone, in hell,
or in heaven underneath the sky.

All these questions, so many,
every day. And I get no answers,
because here in the darkness,
I can’t find another way.

Star-crossed lovers,
underneath the covers,
Bound to unraveling discoveries
Gazing at the stars, glaring at one another.

Are you happy
I'm satisfied
Ain't no arms
On my watch
I been gone
Like twelve o'clock
I'm not happy
But satisfied
Say i miss you but thinking bout you
I'm waisting time
Like twelve o noon
Go inside
Don't get fried man....
Let me go inside

you are the air
i breathe that
because i need to stay alive

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I sometimes wonder
If you remember me at all,
Beneath your stressful days
And endless nights.

Do you remember me?

I have hidden here,
Waiting
Just for you.

Because I am you.

You are not the girl I used to know,
Not the one you used to be.
But that's okay,
I have changed too.

Have we both grown by leaps and bounds?

I wish you all the best,
But please
I beg of you.

Do not forsake me.

in the mango tree
across the street

a prattle of parrots
most evenings meet

to chew the fat
and the mango sweet

with a secret cue
they screech away

then circle back
as if to say

this was the best
part of your day

En cada corazón arde una llama,
Si aún vive la ilusión y amor impera,
Pero en mi corazón desdeque te ama
Sin que viva ilusión, arde una hoguera.

Oye esta confesión; te amo con miedo,
Con el miedo del alma a tu hermosura,
Y te traigo a mis sueños y no puedo
Llevarte más allá de mi amargura.

¿Sabes lo que es vivir como yo vivo?
¿Sabes lo que es llorar sin fe ni calma?
¿Mientras se muere el corazón cautivo
Y en la cruz del dolor expira el alma?

Eres al corazón lo que a las ruinas
Son los rayos del sol esplendoroso,
Donde el reptil se arropa en las esquinas
Y se avergüenza el sol del ser hermoso.

Nunca podrás amarme aunque yo quiera,
Porque lo exige así mi suerte impía,
Y si esa misma suerte nos uniera
Tú fueras desgraciada por ser mía.

Deja que te contemple y que te adore,
Y que escuche tu voz y que te admire,
Aunque al decirte adiós, con risas llore,
Y al volvernos a ver llore y suspire.

Yo no quiero enlazar a mi destino
Tu dulce juventud de horas tranquilas,
Ni he de dar otro sol a mi camino
Que los soles que guardan tus pupilas.

Enternézcame siempre tu belleza
Aunque no me des nunca tus amores,
Y no adornes con flores tu cabeza
Pues me encelan los besos de las flores.

Siempre rubios, finísimos y bellos,
Madejas de oro, en céltica guirnalda,
Caigan flotando libres tus cabellos,
Como un manto de reina por tu espalda.

Es cielo azul el que mi amor desea,
La flor que más me encanta es siempre hermosa,
Que en tu talle gentil yo siempre vea
Tu veste tropical de azul y rosa.

Mírame con tus ojos adormidos,
Sonriéndote graciosa y dulcemente,
Y avergüenza y maldice a mis sentidos
Mostrándome el rubor sobre tu frente.

¿Yo nunca seré tuyo? ¡ay! ese día,
Oscureciera al sol duelo profundo;
Mas para ser feliz sobre este mundo
Bástame amarte sin llamarte mía.

Invariably,
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips,
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Infallibly.

In my night
terror,
I hear the pounding
of
your wings, ripping and
tearing
at my feeble heart.
It's beating,
but
barely,
bomb-blasted by your
attack.
your love is like
a stroke;
like a bloated toad.
I'm road weary,
teary-eyed like a
sunflower.
And you scream in
the darkness like
a lamb.

I long to *** in
you.
I'm like dentures
chewed on by a stray dog;
teeth missing,
jagged like a
jack-o-lantern.

Damage control is
your best bet.
I let you way too
far in.
No turning back now.
I'm like a dumb
cow led to slaughter.

I'm miles away.
You're on a
different
island.

Sadness creeps in
And keeps my warmth out
As though my internal warmth
Wanted to leave in form of tears.