dominic-james-mildago
American
I write novels on a old Oliveetti Lettera 25 but I write poetry on the side. Writing is more than a passion for me its a lifestyle, career, and a part of who I am. I see my world through metaphors and similes, protagonists and antagonists, plots and schemes. The greatest fiction is the truth disguised as lies.
I won’t make the same mistake.
Not again.
I won’t let this slip away.
Not like last time.
Failing to realize what I could have
become.
What we could have been.
But that was a different place,
a different time.
I cannot take the wonderings,
the what if’s,
the uncountable dreams,
of what could be.
Because I don’t love her like I loved you.
But I’m willing to try.
Even for a month.
Or less.
But I cannot try.
I may have failed,
100 times before this.
But if I, if we, succeed.
Then it all would be worth it.
Because I am not a coward.
I am whatever I deem myself worthy.
And I deserve this.
And I deem myself worthy of courage.
But most of all.
I not only want you.
I need you.
And this time.
You will know.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 12:05 PM UTC
I met an angel,
last night.
She was crying.
Not for herself.
But those she cared for.
Why must you cry?
For someone so
beautiful,
never should shed such a
powerful water.
No man under the sun
deserves you.
For even if you
don’t believe it,
you are an angel.
And you’ll
never know how
honored I am
to have you as
a friend.
Never allow
someone to tell you
otherwise.
For you are,
beautiful,
wonderful,
amazing,
and most of all...
the greatest friend I could
and will ever have.
And (you’ll probably never know this)
I love you.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
I often wonder,
how
your hair smells,
your skin against mine,
your head resting on my rising chest,
your heart beating with mine,
in the morning next to me.
Would you smile?
Would you make eye contact?
Would you kiss me?
Would you be there?
When I’d wake up next to you.
Would
We be tangled up,
on your bed (or mine),
together like one.
When we’d get up,
I’d make us breakfast
or lunch.
You’d stand behind me,
afraid I’d burn it,
with your arms around me.
I would concentrate on cooking,
but you’d try so hard to distract me
when I’d turn away from the stove.
Maybe.
We wouldn’t.
Because.
I’d wonder.
I’d dream.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 5:39 PM UTC
The first dictator,
the founder.
The blood of a would be
god.
But all this mighty knowledge
is meaningless.
With you here.
And me in Roma,
44 B.C.
But I am here.
Next to you,
and you’ll never know.
How I think about the
war in my mind
with the space
between you and me.
But thus is my curse.
Stuck at the strategy table.
Moving the dark pieces in an
attempt to bring
you
closer
to me.
I wish I was Caesar,
or Augustus,
or Alexander.
So my battle plans
could be as sound,
could be as powerful,
could be as triumphant.
So I could conquer this intolerable space.
To touch your face,
To kiss your lips,
To press my body against yours,
To feel our hearts touch.
But it will never happen.
For fortune favors the bold.
And I like Cassius:
I am a coward.
But maybe one day
I’ll be Caesar.
And you’ll be mine.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
Do it for me,
God,
do it for me.
The lost lamb,
the prodigal son,
the sleeping servant.
Do it for the wrong,
in my life,
that I’ve caused,
that I created,
that I regret.
Do it for the right,
the smiles,
the laughs,
the advice.
Help him,
be what he needs.
Help her,
understand what he is.
Take away all the good in mine,
so they can have something I will...
Never.
Give them peace.
Give them love.
Give them each other.
If you can do that.
Maybe then...
I will have served a purpose.
I will have been a bringer of life.
I will have understood.
Maybe then...
I will be free.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 10:34 AM UTC
She was built,
shorter than the other buildings,
but stands just as tall.
She was designed to be
thinner,
as it would just fit.
Her long winding curves,
stretching lusciously
into the great blue sky.
Sabatino,
or what I like to,
call her:
Kelsey.
Her smile a grin
of reflective bright
sunlight.
This was how she was modeled,
crafted with the finest:
Marble,
Steel,
Wood,
and Stone.
As if Michelangelo
or Da Vinci,
came back to chisel this
monument to beauty.
Not because they can,
because they must.
I may walk past this building
everyday,
on my way to work,
coffee,
school.
But one day,
I will christen the lips
of her sounding entrance.
That day I
will be as tall as her.
A titan of concrete,
of steel.
A titan that controls my
imagination,
time,
and heart.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 10:33 AM UTC
I just know
I am mad
crazy
daft
trying so
hard
to understand
the whole
when
I should just
care about
the details
especially
those things
that only
matter
to
my heart
and
my happiness
because
that's what really
counts
in the end
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:26 PM UTC
Listen
to me
I am an old man
rigid
and
fixed
stuck in the way
I have
always
done
and you
broke that
down
from being
one
type
to being full
of life and energy
to be a tired bitter old man
into a mad man lost without his box
because I don't need all of time and space
when I smile
because
of
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:26 PM UTC
It was impossible
simply
utterly
impossible
I had held my heart
back
so long
processing
my emotions through
long
logical
outlines
Trying to take in account
everything that
could
would
happen
making contingencies
for contingencies
setting thousands of
plans into motion
preventing consequences
before they happen
and it was annoying
but it was how I was
built
complex
intertwining
impossibilities
with sheer will
but what you said
was impossible
but you
bridged
that
gap
with a simple
question
and
I couldn't say no
even if it was
impossible
I've done it before
I did it
again
and for
once
I shut up
my mind
and
I
kissed you
the impossible
achieved
and now
that I've
done
the impossible
I know
I am
Mighty
and its not that
scary
because its
not impossible
anymore
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC
I dream
not of wealth
or fame
but of you
and me
my hand
following your soft
jawline
guiding you
closer to me
my digits wrap around
and stop
but you grow closer
still
Your eyes
close
mine as well
and it is then
when your lips
touch mine
I feel your palm
holding my chest
this is my heart
run rampant
as I try to take
back control
from it wanting
that what I must
patiently wait
and
earn it
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:25 PM UTC