Drunk on nostalgia,
and longing for the past,
looking at who is still my friend,
and the ones gone too fast,
I miss them all,
but I dont want any of them here,
but then again my courage out weighs my fear,
and I see it all so beautifully clear,
what I would do to hear that smile,
or see that laugh,
feel that giggle,
and dance during math,
to have stories of yet to comes,
and what dreams we have with the future suns,
friends of guys and girls,
sending my world into swirls,
and dancing with the flame,
the band maybe different, but the music is still the same,
we all just have a new name,
that is a representation of the yesterdays,
and I miss the the future and past figuring's of today's faze,
nostalgia is weighing the other half of my couch down,
as it is my friend, my smile and my frown,
I'd push them all away,
if I didnt know they were here to stay,
so I might as well enjoy the ride,
because life is just a rock skipping on a pond,
thrown by a bad hand,
I'll keep saying it along with you,
the next skip is new,
but its the skip behind that I'll think aboot in the next few

A cage disguised
as reality,
I am in.
No need to scream darling,
no need to shout.
You won’t be heard,
and you can’t get out.
So close your eyes,
and drift away.

I travel into the great unknown
Through kaleidoscope tunnels
In marshmallow homes

Silly putty writings
Unfold in my lap
Scrawlings from fairies
Under my hat

Bubble gum people
Walk by my stoop
They'll do it again
My day is on loop

The tea was Earl grey
Then it turned blue
I've had a strange evening
How about you?

Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking,
slow play of lights, solitary bell,
twilight falling in your eyes, toy doll,
earth-shell, in whom the earth sings!

In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them
as you desire, and you send it where you will.
Aim my road on your bow of hope
and in a frenzy I will flee my flock of arrows.

On all sides I see your waist of fog,
and your silence hunts down my afflicted hours;
my kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests
in your arms of transparent stone.

Ah your mysterious voice that love tolls and darkens
in the resonant and dying evening!
Thus in the deep hours I have seen, over the fields,
the ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

The light wraps you in its mortal flame.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of the twighlight
that revolves around you.

Speechless, my friend,
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead
and filled with the lives of fire,
pure heir of the ruined day.

A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again
so that a blue and palled people
your newly born, takes nourishment.

Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers perish
and it is full of sadness.

She was destructively beautiful,
Aimlessly honest,
Wistfully vacant, with purpose.
She held such maddening sadness in her eyes.
And I knew, in the mist of the most dangerous of moments.
For when her blue dress flirted with my fingertips,
I knew that she would destroy me,
And I would spend the rest of my days trying to forget her.
Yet how perplexingly remarkable it is indeed,
To feel anything at all.

~


If I call you beautiful…

Do flowers bloom within your worried eyes
surrounding you with color, with thoughts
Looking past the mirror to that place you have been,
that you long to be again

Do you bite your lip,
looking within, seeking past the darkness,
subconsciously smoothing the ruffles of you dress,
shuffling your feet a bit

Do memories flood your mind
of days before lipstick and eye shadow,
when cute was as common as wrinkled nose smiles,
playing inside or out were your choices

Do you roll your eyes and sigh,
describing a portrait that only you can see,
a mirage of impressions you have collected,
stored away in that file you reach for regularly

Do you brand me blind or crazy at least,
point to that one tiny blemish you know,
turn and walk away kicking dust as you go,
shutting the door in disbelief

Or do you see your reflection in my eyes
the woman that you are to me,
hear the affection in my voice, the truth
and wrinkle your nose once more and say, “I love you”