Even from a distance
She knew it was him
She found him waiting outside her small flat
he was in the bloom of the old converted gaslight.
She noticed the grey flecks in his beautiful eyes.
That had caused her to undress
for him a thousand times.
Hi!
he whispered softly
like honey falling from a spoon.
She flashed her prettiest smile at him.
And tossed her hair back like she used to.
You look as beautiful as I remember.
She looked at him
for some small signal of remorse
but she could not see it.
He wanted her
that much was palpable.
She felt his need burning
even in the cold night air.
There’s a hole in my existence he said.
Where all the memories get in
They are all of you he half whispered?
His mouth almost smiling.
That smile that had
melted her heart so often.
Why me?
she asked him almost in a whisper.
I was never enough before
she retorted.petulantly.
Wanting to hurt him
as badly as he had hurt her.
I did not know I loved you
until you were not there he said.
A sadness glowed in his eyes.
And if you remember
it was you that left me.
Why did you leave? He asked
Because you never asked me to stay
she said quietly.
I am asking now he  answered.
She let him into her flat
She undressed for him
and they made love.
When she awoke she heard
the click of her door as he left her.
She knew her heart would ache
Just as it had before.
And she knew he would be back again.
And she would let him in once more.

I know I am just a working man
i think in honesty that's why you left me.
I know I was never enough to make you stay.
I struggle with words I suppose two years
As class clown in English class caused that.
But give me a sick engine and my tool box
I can make it sound like poetry.

I saw a therapists  to help me
with my depression after you left me.
I think it was a broken heart.
I know my toolbox
could not help me to fix it.
She said to write my feelings
On a paper to get them out in the open.
Where they could be dealt with.

So here it is
my first writing project.
since my c minus in 12th grade
This is not a love poem for you.
Please Don’t take this as a love poem.

I do not care to relive
our romantic moments in my poetry.
Like when I saw you for the first time.
And the songs of angels
sang in my bursting heart.

I will never write a love poem for you
Like when we sheltered from the spring rain
Below an old  maple tree
dripping in olive greens
And I noticed the colour of its leaves
Were the exact colour of your eyes.

I am finished with silly love poems
And will never mention again
How I stop and my heart skips a beat
when I hear a laugh thats
exactly like yours.
Or see a woman from behind
and her hair is burnished gold
Just like I remember yours.

I think I am better now almost cured.
Intruth I am quiet over you.
In fact I hardly ever think of you,,anymore.
Except perhaps in springtime.
But then again
I should never think of springtime.
For that would surely
break my heart in two

There are pebbles on the seashore
They have been here forever.
smoothed by the oceans sand.
Almost soft in the countless
washes of time.
Every blemmish honed away
until only their pureness
of being remains.

When my mortal days are done.
I shall place my soul
Alongside these stones
And let the waters of infinity
smooth it like the stones.
Until all that remains
is its pristine purity.
And then I shall place it
on the shores of forever.

She sees me in the fading light
Sat upon a park bench
An old man dreaming .
Harry
she says her eyes as bright
as the first time I saw her.
No to be honest
The first time I fell.
In love with her.

Nice to see you honey
sit with me for a while
Lets talk about the old days?

Do you remember love.
I had long hair
You called me
your wild man.
You were beautiful
I called you my baby girl.

They said we were too young
we were not ready for marriage
But we ran away and did it.
God I loved you honey.
I could not wait to get home
and dive into bed with you.
I couldn't get enough of you,

Where did it fall apart my love.
It was me, I am sure it was me.
I was never enough for you.
You were everything for me
More than enough.

But you were growing more
than I was.
You wanted more from life.
You know I never found anyone
who touched me like you did.
You were my first and I loved you.
There's never anyone else
that can be first like that.

Stay for a while with me
lets share a cigarette
and talk about the old days.
Of the moon and stars
And the gravity of regrets.
Just don't go,
No not just yet.

Here comes that dream again.
I am 17 not 58
My old  candy apple red 64 mustang convertible
Screams it throaty roar.
From its straight through muffler.
The Beatles are screaming
All my lovin.
From my favorite 8 track tape.

Next to me is Abby Foster
Only the hottest girl in my school.
She is laughing in joy
and slips her hand into mine.

I have been fantasizing
about her for weeks.
Maybe today's the day
She will.....
Never mind its my dream, right.
I love this dream

The alarm clock rings
and gives me a rude awakening.
The scene changes to the
Real world on a workday morning.
I turn to the middle aged lady
In the bed next to me.

Gently I awaken her.
And kiss her forehead.
I say softly.
Rise and shine
Abby my love.
It's 7am.

I am breaking the promise
that I made to myself, .
The one I made
to my heart and soul.
That I would not write love poetry
for you, ever again.

To lock my heart in a vault.
So those thoughts of you
Can not get back inside.
And haunt me in my dreams.

I am throwing away
the keys to my heart.
Into the deepest ocean.
Never to be found again.

I need to excise the ghost you left
haunting the ruins of my soul.
Walking about inside it
As if it was still your home.
even though
I was ever enough
to keep you here.

I promised I would let you go.
So I can continue
surviving and breathing
Even with the dagger
You left in my heart.

I promised myself
I did not need loving thoughts
of you to write
my poetry any more.

But here I am again.
Writing  more love poems for you.
Because you are still the muse
of every one of my creative thoughts.

And without you
There is no more
poetry left in me.
So because...
because...
.because of that.

This is better....
........This is better
.......................This is better.
Than nothing at all.

On this moonlit
Winter night.
A red gown
lay on top
of the open dumpster.
Catching starlight
on its red sequins.
The only splash of color
in the monochrome
back alley.

The red gown
No longer
Clinging to the curves
Of a beautiful lady.
Dressed for the party.
Or
Catching the cascading lights
From a glitter ball at the dance.
Or
Hanging in a special place
Inside her closet.
Just waiting
for the next time.
The red gown.
Left unwanted
And forgotten.
Frozen upon
the open dumpster

On a cold
snowy winters night.
Turning from red to white.
Absorbing all that once was.
A single snowflake
At a time