You threw around the word love
like one of your
**** hockey pucks

and i guess you thought
i was the goal
you wanted
(but only because time was running out
and you obviously wanted to impress someone)

you picked up 'im sorry'
as a continuous re-bound
sadly to say,
i always accepted those

but now
take a seat on the bench
because you didn't show up
in time for the game
depressingly, i thought
you always had to be
the goalie
and help stop others
from stealing me

so **** the game
you used as a guideline
to be
with
me.

Sitting in a park
Filled with four
Silence
Instead of laughter
I see mouths moving
Bodies jumping
But all I hear is my own
Heart beat
I wish to be left to myself
Even though I'm always alone
I feel something much worse
Than pain
I feel numb
I feel the nagging stabs
Of a sad vibration
Coming through my pores
And all my worries
Pouring out my eyes
Yet my mouth stays set
In an attractive smile
And the only thing that
Ever feels good to me
Is the sun
And even he doesn't stay
For long.

I'm sitting down playing the piano,
You walk in,
I felt your beautiful aura
From deep within
We are two distant strangers
So the idea of love is still a danger
Because we’ve opened our hearts up to False infatuated strangers.
You spoke to me, with a voice so heavenly
I knew a angel was sent to me
I could write you a book
I could make you a song
I could kiss your infectious lips
Until the pain is all gone
I could see all your wrongs
But its okay because we all make mistakes
I know we just met but you make my mind BEILEVE in the art of faith
Can you paint me a picture?
Of my love and your heart in the mixture
I see so much opportunity, I see...a whole life witcha
I apologize if I come off strong
I haven't felt this way in so long
You just bring out the best in me, she could be my “Greatest Love Song.”

I gathered the finest things for it,
Put them together, polished them neat,
I shaped it the best way I could
Wanting it to be there for good!
Just when it was in perfect form,
Winds rose, blew thunderstorm,
I clung onto it with all my heart,
It broke into pieces, lay tattered in dust.

After a while's despair, a momentary pain,
I gathered back the fragments for making it again!

He lies wide eyed.

The opaque stream reflects no sky
betrays no emotions
nothing is impressed on the canvas anymore.

‘Wide eyed’
that’s how he was described by all
as he gave everything a riveting look
stopped on the way of his routine chores
lost in his own wandering thoughts
stealing and storing on those orifice
the wonders that often pass as mundane
letting not the smallest bit to escape
like a crazy collector on a wild run of filling his scrapbook.

He lies wide eyed.

His unblinking eyes still in awe of the stored marvels
and silently pleading the approaching fingers
not to shut them!

I keep telling myself to take a break from poetry
loving,

But then life
And you, insert yourself
Into me,
Pincer and Fist,
      
I am ****** once again.
I am broken once again.
Poetry patches me up, sometimes....

But any addiction is bad, even poetry, even caring.

René Descartes rested his pen,
to take a Parisian stroll -
stopping to order a cup
at his favorite patisserie.

The waitress queried "with cream?"
and René who sipped his brew black
testily scoffed, "I think not"
and immediately disappeared.

*August, 2013