Alone in the room,
my hands are stained
with poetry.

There are no little wars,
no little death or destruction.
No little event
filled with lies, deceit, and corruption

There are no good wars,
not for those affected.
The dead, dying, and homeless,
the shell shocked left afflicted.

There are no little lover's spats,
although they all appear to be.
Devastating battles, ego verses ego,
with no one ever set free.

Poised with a finger on the button,
thinking either one has weapons of mass destruction.
They find the ***** in each others armor,
and give their esteems a sharp reduction

Should I stay or should I leave here?
That, is always the question.
Either way the sun will rise
on a battlefield of tension.

And what of million dollar missiles
lobbed upon a question,
while Detroit looks like a warzone,
sorely in need of reconstruction?

*I had a fight with my wife, I wanted to leave. But my battle isn't with her, it's within me.
Should we attack Syria, or should we take that money to rebuild this great nation?

I count the hours till we're alone,
to take my sweet repast.
To savor every word you've written,
and make our moments last.

That you would deem me worthy
someone to share your dreams,
of stardust and deep desires,
of heartaches and moonbeams.

The love within each stanza,
and care within each line.
Crafted only just for me,
your precious thoughts, all mine.

As they were my only food,
my air, my blood, my breath,
I'll take them with me where e’er I go,
even unto my death.

My candle is now burning,
it waits to light your prose.
My heart is ever yearning,
my love for you, it grows.

Think not that I am lonely,
yet lonely I would be.
If your lines to me were broken,
and never more to see.

Their eyes meet, for the first time.
Eons of memories flash.
Ancient keys open past love and lust.
How now, why now?
Star crossed? Chance meeting?
Fates in play?
Broken hearts so in need of mending?
Then the awkwardness.
When she looks at me, who does she see?
Am I what he'd imagined?
More, or less?
And then, an embrace.
Finally, flesh upon flesh and another key unlocks a door.
Her scent, his scent,
small talk to lubricate the moment.
Unaware, she looks for a sign,
a subtle grin or tilt of the head,
a gesture, or a reaction.
He waits for the moment, the space in the nervous conversation to steal a kiss.
A kiss that will change everything.
A kiss that says, I love you, you are wonderful.
You are more than I could ever have imagined.
And then it happens, in the kiss,
the hormonal attraction, the innate key to the next door.
He takes her in with a breath, and the sanity begins.
It is as if they've plugged into each other, completing an electrical circuit.
Sparks fly, traveling down her body.
Here and now in this dream-state
one looses all reasoning,
decisions are not made.
Plans are not executed.
Outcomes are abandoned.
Do you want to go somewhere, so we can be alone?
You don't remember answering yes.
Holding hands,
pure adrenaline takes you up the stairs to a new room,
with new keys..............

To walk with you through clover fields,
and talk of loves and loss.
A hand to help you cross the brook,
rings from a pebble toss.

To take you to a simpler time,
where dos and don’t subside.
Where dreams are lunchtime fare,
no troubles can abide.

We’ll sup on colors rich and bold,
breathe in the subtle hues.
Replace the day’s mundane agenda,
and whisk away your blues.

I’ll hold your hand and tell you truths,
and be at least one friend.
Elated with the glowing sunset,
and it’s melancholy end.

*for my friend in need