Absence does something to the heart,
and while you were gone,
I balanced its workings
against my forgetfulness,
lest the soft drumming memories
in my burdened chest be drilled
away as angry metal to concrete,
replete with the chiseling
of your exit.
Absence does something to the heart,
and while you were gone,
its hold would conjure the best
days against the soft rays
of sparkling hindsight,
melting away the stony corridor
lining the path between
yesterday’s reminiscent smile
and today’s familiar hurt.
Absence fondled my aching heart
while you were gone,
making a home in its chambers,
settling, cleaning, applying time
to bandage the tissue
needing healing,
and the something it did for me,
made me fonder of the freedom
you threw at my feet
once you were gone.
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 12:20 AM UTC
An old man sat slumped
on the bus stop bench
as the snow drifted
silently around him.
He waited for the familiar
screech and hiss
that would soon come
to take him home.
An old sac rolled like
tumbleweed by his resting spot,
resting atop the flakes
on the freezing ground.
It sat there and breathed
the winter wind
drawing in the sounds
of a cold winter day.
An old street light
flickered in the distance
pushing the dripping
daylight away.
Its spotlight grazed
the boots of an under-clad
young woman, shuffling
to meet the coming bus.
The old man, with a memory
of childhood days,
stuck out his tongue
to taste the falling snow.
The woman, with a memory
of leering creeps,
startled at the old
man’s gesture.
The bus pulled up,
with its halt and hiss,
waited for the young
and old to board.
The two polarized
Minds sat afar
from each other,
all the long way home.
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 7:39 PM UTC
I straightened my tie,
my noose of choice.
I surveyed the nerves,
boutonnières,
cuff links and best men
dressed then stressed
over punctuality.
**
I am late in my white dress,
my unstained reminder.
I rehearsed the vows,
poses, held my roses
and had my ladies
in waiting,
waiting.
**
I wait at the archway,
stiff, starched and
looking rented
for the occasion
**
I wait for my turn
to walk the plank,
the aisle spans oceans
and I am unsure.
**
I am unsure
but it is too late.
She sees my face and
searching behind
her veil for sympathetic
shared fear.
**
I give my father a mechanic kiss,
I twist and face my future.
**
I smile and wince,
I take her trembling hand,
I find her eyes,
I see my future.
**
I smile and wince,
He takes my trembling hand,
He finds my eyes,
I see no future.
**
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 6:34 PM UTC