Grass, beauty, Easter and art;
the kind of grey skies that don't hurt your heart,
the kind of rain that signals a new start -
Spring is allowing your soul and your darkness to part.

Remembering childhood memories you didn't know you forgot,
Pastel coloured sweets that will make your teeth rot,
Lovers going at it like bunnies without fear of getting caught,
Spring is bringing clarity and serenity to your thoughts.

Windows that crack open just enough to leak fresh air,
with lilac blossom candles leaving a light scent that's barely there
and there's something about the way you started wearing your hair...
Spring is finally replenishing what winter left bare.

~

Beneath this dark…soft, silent sky (awaiting your smile)

  
Beneath this dark…soft silent sky
where starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets…
my heart seeks
~
Clinging to every hope,
laced of tiny woven dreams
now filtered through weary eyes
and worried sighs
~
Collecting each moment shared
within my weathered hands…mixed
with essence of posy and
butterfly song
~
Woven together in melodic patterns,
colorful arcs on golden horizons
bidding me a good evening while
riding in on the sweetest of mystic zephyrs…
~
as another tear paints my cheek
in transparent worry
and desperate longing for that day
when your smile reappears
~
For here sits my whispered wishes,
behind tufted clouds of life,
touching me with poetic joy,
allowing me to breathe freely
~
Beneath this dark…soft silent sky
where starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets…
I shall wait…for your smile

**** she your momma
misspelled your name
shoulda been Raygun
or Learjet

I sure wish you were a
physicist
so you could help me write my
General Theory of Poetry

teach me calculus
so we could prove Newton
was all wrong

but I posit a theory:
you must be an electrician
of the human body

well my circuitry is all ****** up,
if you read your way crack back to my
October, my doc told me I was a dying
and he didn't want to doctor me no more

so you see my bits done byte me good,
but named me a "dead" line in human fashion,
Nay, by May Eighteen, got finish my theorem,
cause I'm black hole'd and ******* myself

so have Leah bring a coffee refill,
let's get to collaborate,
I will operate in the ether of fudge factors,
you, will solder circuitry thru modern chemistry
and I will have my theory but no answers
but then I can give up this hopeless
poetry gig one lazy time and just
live your New York dreams

Read http://hellopoetry.com/raygan-keller/

Leave ******* where it belongs
with the perpetrator and its believer;

And be free forever.

lachrymose: suggestive of or tending to cause tears; mournful....given to shedding tears readily; tearful.**

make no dithering,
wily excusing or explaining,
among this band,
I count myself
a brother and a man

eons ago shed the
reptilian skin masculine,
my six-shooter now a manly
cheap Bic ballpoint blue-eyed pen,
used to fell forests of egos,
mine, first foremost and ever last

every write that sore tries my heart,
lives hard by a stream replenished,
by freshly born, yet stale, recirculated
salt-mine tears, salt, mine, tears,
that include those storing and storied,
some preceding and some succeeding,
and some spilling
even as
this story told,
here and now,
is in the hearth,
forming and fulfilling

if man enough that you can cry openly,
then man enough to write good poetry,
this then, this be the simple and finest
line I ever wrote,
line I ever cried

5:20pm April 20th,
The Year of the Tear