It must be a strong force unseen
That drives a heart to someone's poetry,

For it's not easy to spare the time,
Out of the chaotic humdrum of one's life,

To push the clutter and monotone aside
And welcome alien ideas into one's mind,

Ideas not shaped into melodious tunes,
Ideas not shaded with colours and hues,

Ideas not in a photographic frame enclosed,
Ideas not structured into the flow of prose,

Free-gushing, mischievous, some rhyming some not!
Poetic ideas are a difficult lot,

Which is why I wonder, astonished, each time
Someone sits down to explore a creation of mine,

What power was greater than all worldly realities,
That led them to my humble poetry?

Was it a soul parched of light?
Was it a heart in the throes of an endless night?

Was it the thrill of love, was it the urgency of desire?
Was it pure craving for emotion, the warmth of fire?

No greater an honour could there be,
Than having someone step into your dream,

Allowing themselves to take the expedition,
Into the unknown depths of your composition,

And have your poem satiate their being,
Just as its birth had healed your own entity.

But we're here,
In a bar,
You at the counter and I at a table.
We aren't here together,
But we aren't alone,
And you look like the leaves of
A fully blossomed Cherry Blossom tree,
And I wanna kiss you,
I wanna take you to bed,
But you wouldn't want that,
At least not now,
Not after you lost me in the bar lights,
A place where we aren't together,
But a place where we aren't alone.

I know you have to leave
By the time summertime comes to an end.
You'll have to finally get dressed,
Your bare silhouette won't peer out
From the bathroom anymore.
No more nights at the corner bar
Talking of your mothers suicide.
The first Saturday you took me
Into my first gay club,
You took me down under the floorboards
To a night of aching and desire.
I had no idea I could look into your
Emerald eyes the way I did
While seeing a reflection of an ocean
With your face painted on the surface.
that first Saturday.
But baby I know summertime needs you back.
You need to go back to the oceans
Circling islands with no names.
I'll see you again when the summer wants
To send you back to your home.
You'll let me feel then what it
Feels like to feel inside you.
I can keep on edge till then.
I'll miss the taste of your strawberry lips
The first time you let me
Strip down and undress my pride
In the pool outside your house.
Just tell the summertime you have
Someone back home who needs you.