A friend of mine stopped by,
A girl I thought long since dead,
Comes back in the flesh to find some rest,
But there never is any for her,

Black and white pictures now pass me by,
Of a girl who has yet to find,
Her shade of grey in all the tone,
Huckabee's own,

But we've both found ourselves grown,
In different ways neither of us could ever show,
But put us in a room together and watch it go,
Because we now know more about the great unknowns,
And things seemed better when we didn't.

But how smart can we be?
I still have a heart that plays like an American movie,
Many men you know do it just like me,
A circle of nonsense that sets us free,

From feeling okay,
From finding our way,
From seeing eyes with honest thoughts,
In friends like you.

You care about both her and me,
But the real trick for us three,
Is to care about ourselves enough,
To care for each other,
For once.

I speak sensibly,
Wonder often about what they see,
Mark perfection only as a nominee,
Find a way to make everything out for me,

The older I get the more confusion I achieve,
Like a fledgling, green, senseless thing,
Who are these people wheeling and dealing in well-being,
Refuge, degrees, friends and family,
These are the things that are supposed to be comforting,

But I am in the cellar,
Looking too closely through wide open glass,
Squinting at the lights of the self-proclaimed insane,
Effected for a second giving myself away,
Oh what I would give to have more art up on display,

I would let it be the only thing I want each day,
Let it change how I behave,
Let it live without a frame,
Find the way it likes to hang,
Handle it until it caves,
And colors confined by lines are freed,
In the lair of the fauvist fiend.

I would try and describe her,

But the air around me gets colder as my heart moves further away from its purposeful place,
My prelude, oh muse, my dearest darling dancing in my thoughts,
Like Ebenezer’s ghosts she flies with me through places I’ve been,
And shares with me the places I have always wanted to find.

I would try and describe her,

But I only looked on her once,
Of all the time that I allowed,
I stole only one part of one second to fully fill my eyes,
Too narrow of slits to take in all the things I saw in front of them,

Like heat emits from the sun beauty pours from this woman,
Naturally there, overwhelmingly there, endlessly there,
As if beauty swiftly leapt from every cherished thing in this world,
To rest effortlessly within the eyes, the voice, and the smile of this woman,

I would try and describe her,

But description is impossible,
As she belongs in Plato’s cave,
Where perfection is bland and pleasure is boring,
Where merely the thought,
Of another stolen part,
Of another stolen second,
With my emitting sunshine love,
Is painted in rich oils on every surface.

Every ounce,
Every inch,
Of everything I could ever give to someone,
I would give to her.

Throughout nights,
I flinch,
At the dark craters left swiftly in my chest,
By a wild, Whirled Pie, tempest,

Out of time or memory,
Moments stolen with my emitting sunshine love,
Stain my heart with streaks of gold and green,
Granting gazes into gaping places,
Where I pine to be,
With her.

A spontaneous late night poem for my brothers and sisters in nerdom.....

I am a mudcrab,
Strangely out of place,
Where is my mudcrab love?

My sweet and perfect crustacean,
Come with me to a cozy inn by solitude,
Or down a warm, golden, path to a city of talented thieves,
Lets chase foxes,
Make fun of guards,
And get away with ******,

Lets think we are clever by cutting through the marked path,
Only to be blocked by snowed on mountains sprouting,
Lets hug the left wall to find our way back,
And scare away monsters with words we hear dragons shouting,

Lets laugh at how the Jarl sits like a lady,
Lets gripe about how the Agonians don't look as cool as they should,
Lets say that all the Stormcloaks are crazy,
And hope that one day they make a Star Wars game this good,

But in the end,
My hard shelled friend,
Lets return to our beloved swamp,
Where the giants and their mammoths don't stomp,

Lets gaze up at a sky that's not our own,
And count up our perks to show each other how much we've grown,
Since Helgen fell, and life was hell,

Lets share this road,
And be happy to note,
That at least we're no longer alone.

~Dovahkiin

Poets go blind from writing by moonlight,
But my artist smites the moon with her luminance,
I write by her subtle, cyan, rays
And would gladly go blind for, with her, my eyes find their fill quickly,

She is the unexpected wind bouncing off the water’s surface,
And my chest is the sail,
Lifted, pushed, expanded and fulfilled to its most righteous purpose,

If the world is a stage than she is the red velvet curtain,
Commanding a sway so slight and savory
That other rags rent and burn,

No matter how mesmerizing the performance is,
A sudden hush or vibrant ovation is demanded in her wake,
A sultry swirl of goddess and girl,
Too precious to be stored with other jewels,

Elegance with every hinting glance, every rowdy inhale,
And every placement of those sinister legs,
That rams would think twice to scale,

The bend in her back is the stroke of my oils,
The pout of her lips is scarlet meat to the lions,
And the feel of her hips sum up my surreptitious desires,

Like good jazz things seem to pull back
Before the cathartic crescendos,
But to put it bluntly dear, the next time you’re here,
It may pay to freshen up with a Mentos.