She pulled her upper lip
Down across her teeth,
Tilted back her head,
Flew her eyes at half-mast
While perfect tiny fingers worked
Brushed and swabbed,
Dressed, accentuated,
And brought to life perfection
Already there.
A powder, a crème
A special brush to apply
On her lips and brows,
And eyes that tear apart
My soul
Each time she blinks
And smiles.
How I was so startled
To find myself,
How amazed I was
To be so mesmerized,
How intrigued I was
To be so humbled,
Allowed to watch
This simple act,
Her practiced step-by-step,
Preparing for the day
While she drew me in
And gave to me a gift
Of rare and honest beauty.
And stepping back to assess
Her practiced work
Then to dress
And dash so quickly
Prepare for day’s
Each tick and tie
Remembering that there am I
Gazing while
The time draws near
When out the door
To disappear,
And once again
I am in wait
Till beauty comes
To hold me near.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
If I were to lose you,
Oh God.
If I were to lose you
I would run,
Run as fast as I could,
Until my chest gasped for air,
Until my lungs burned
And I couldn’t talk
And I would cough and wheeze
When I tried to breathe.
I would run while my aging knees
Threatened to buckle,
My shins burned, my hips failed,
Sweat pouring from everywhere
I used to be
Through the rain.
I would not stop
Until I found the forest clearing
A place where I have been
But maybe not when I was alive.
Only then,
When I got there,
I would bend over
Put my hands on my knees
And watch the sorrow drip from my face
I’d try to catch my breath;
Oh God.
I would try to catch my breath-
Breathing as deep as I could
Without coughing and gagging,
On the loss of you,
Oh God!
My eyes would burn
For my salty tears would
Never forgive me
And my shoulders would ache
From running so hard.
My head would pound
For there is no air
To let my mind spring
To where there is regret.
Each beat of my heart
Would echo in my ears and
Throb inside my temple
And I’d mistake it for yours.
I would not be distracted by the
Pine needles on the forest floor,
Nor the sound of a startled bird
While my nose would run
And each breath would
Sear at my throat
Until I coughed so hard.
I’d stand up straight
To wipe my face
And cover my eyes
But the dirt on my hands
Would blur my view
And sting and burn
While the scream from within
Me slowly builds.
I ‘d toss my head back
And look to the sky but
Will never see the sun
Through the branches
And the clouds,
And the rain
Filling my shoes.
I will think I know where I am
But in the real world
I will be so very very lost.
And I would scream!
I would scream the best I could
But only pain will be released until
My head would nearly explode,
Until my throat would bleed
And my legs could not
Hold me any longer.
I would drop to my knees
And sob.
And after a time
When quiet wins
I would hear the wind whisper
Through the branches and
The towering trees.
I would hear my heart beat,
And mistake it for yours,
Oh God.
I would feel my damp skin take a chill
From the dusky air.
I would look at my hands
Covered with mud, sweat, tears,
And imagine you,
And wait.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
I don’t want to be here
My skin is crawling up my arms and legs
And I don’t want to go home
It’s not where I belong, just so much
Of a bother, never get a word in
Edgewise or otherwise
They don’t know I am there anyway
Or at least don’t care what I say
especially when I am saying it
because there is more
important whistling and grinding
coming from somewhere else
like a flock of geese that fly out loud
beside a pair of pigeons
that never let their feet touch the ground
and melt their grandma’s heart.
But I am in the way or whatever
To be rushed home for,
To complain of missing intent
While fearful watching what to do
And simmering pots with tonight’s fare
May never seize a spark
For whatever reason promised
But never fulfilled.
Its not so bad, though as I figure out
the solace that I seek is not subject to asking
since breaking away is breaking up
the layers of ice, frigid but constant,
paved so thick and remembered over time,
the flexed muscles of commitment still
hold the ice against a stone and steel dam.
So do not weep for me, I sharpened
My own skates and pulled the laces tight,
And figured the difference between now
And then will be what it will be and I again
Will watch the water and chunks of ice
Flow under the bridge to spread out over the
Delta with only the gigantic machines of
Man and time to alter their stone carved path.
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
The lines that contain her face
Turn to smoke
And gently float
To mix with the sky and disappear.
While delicious scent,
The sweet perfume of her breath
And her tussled hair
Grows lighter and softer and paler til gone.
The sweetest taste I’ve known,
That of her laughing kiss,
Is now replaced with dry cracked lips
Who reminisce
Of a darting dancing passionate tongue.
Her dark eyes blur, her shining smile fades,
My memories drift to old love letters on yellowed pages,
Where yearning prose once begged and borrowed
And hopeful hearts dreamed of tomorrow.
I watch my hands grow old and lined
Forgetting now what laid beneath
When press to silk or bare skin shared
While shoulders touched and travels fared.
But as strong as ever remains behind
The beating in my chest,
The muscles on my face
That produce a fleshy smile,
The worn out insides of my eyelids
Where I search for her
As I tumble into the canyons of sleep,
And wait for her face, her scent, her eyes, her kiss
To keep me until daylight’s break.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC