Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2013 P Chartier
Jaelin Rose
Though it's only been a short while I've never had a friend like you
But soon you will be leaving me
And I don't know what to do
Your love and understanding
Have brought me a new hope
I wish that I could keep you here
Tied to me with a rope
Why do you choose to leave me?
I ask with confusion and pain
Don't let me go back to feeling alone
When will I see you again?
The miles soon stretched between us
What will happen to this bond?
Will we reunite to find
That this special tie is gone?
So many questions I have
My heart filled with fear
Dreading you will leave me
And never shed a tear
Unlike this desperate aching
In my heart that won't let go
Which leads me now to tell you
Something you must know
The friendship you have given me
The joy you bring my soul
Has filled me with such strength
And love once unforetold
How can it be so short?
This time we've spent together
I thought you would remain here
And love me 'til forever
Sadly, wishful thinking
As I now have come to see
But remember please this thought
When you think of me
We may soon be separated
But I'll remember, just the same
Forever in my heart
Is where you will remain
I wish that when you leave
We'd remain the best of friends
You'll be in my thoughts
'Till I see you again
How can I say goodbye?
No words, but just tears fall
From my eyes and sobbing heart
That knows you after all
The hours spent together
Will soon dwindle down to few
Forcing me to let go
And start this year anew
Without you here to talk to
Searching for a friendly face
That knows all too well
They can never be replaced
 Feb 2013 P Chartier
Erica Jong
Sometimes the poem
doesn't want to come;
it hides from the poet
like a playful cat
who has run
under the house
& lurks among slugs,
roots, spiders' eyes,
ledge so long out of the sun
that it is dank
with the breath of the Troll King.

Sometimes the poem
darts away
like a coy lover
who is afraid of being possessed,
of feeling too much,
of losing his essential
loneliness-which he calls
freedom.

Sometimes the poem
can't requite
the poet's passion.

The poem is a dance
between poet & poem,
but sometimes the poem
just won't dance
and lurks on the sidelines
tapping its feet-
iambs, trochees-
out of step with the music
of your mariachi band.

If the poem won't come,
I say: sneak up on it.
Pretend you don't care.
Sit in your chair
reading Shakespeare, Neruda,
immortal Emily
and let yourself flow
into their music.

Go to the kitchen
and start peeling onions
for homemade sugo.

Before you know it,
the poem will be crying
as your ripe tomatoes
bubble away
with inspiration.

When the whole house is filled
with the tender tomato aroma,
start kneading the pasta.

As you rock
over the damp sensuous dough,
making it bend to your will,
as you make love to this manna
of flour and water,
the poem will get hungry
and come
just like a cat
coming home
when you least
expect her.
 Feb 2013 P Chartier
Mikaila
Maybe
 Feb 2013 P Chartier
Mikaila
Maybe if your promises are only air like breathing,
Maybe so is your instant painful stabbing sudden leaving.
Maybe if you lied to me a thousand and one times,
You're lying once again, my love, and you'll be back sometime.
If you really love me, if you really meant your words,
Then maybe that love, even shot down, will linger in your world.
When I said that I could wait, I'm not sure you truly guessed.
I can wait for you until you cool, til you recall the rest:
The love, the irreplaceable, the devotion and the smiles
That honeyed both our worlds for the barest little while.

Maybe if you must leave me now you'll remember me in time,
Remember why you tried for me like no one else in line.
Don't think I won't be broken, but don't think that I will die.
I've got a life to live, a song to sing, a love to worship by.
You're here with me before, you're here with me hereafter.
You're here inside my soul, and you're what makes my heart hum faster.

Maybe if you leave me, I will lie in misery,
But darling if you leave me, you will not be killing me.
I've still got you to live for, doesn't matter if you hate me so,
I'll be living like I love you until death has laid me low.
And even then, my foolish love, I'll smile in my grave
Having known a life of loving you, of having my heart gave.

Maybe if I die in cold grey longing for your touch,
I'll see you then beyond the light, and never want for such.
I can't say I won't be wretched, I can't say I won't be crushed,
But I can say, my love, that I will live, if living cased in rust.
My friend, my love, perfect and pained, don't fret over my demise.
It will take much more than another fall to force me not to rise.
If you miss my company, if you truly love me dear,
I'll be where I have always been, for you, unfailingly
Here.
each new shake of the square box,
another white stick.
the lighter to burn her death certificate
after her lips have already signed.
I am fast asleep, fully clothed, with the lights
on. My eyes open with my mouth ajar.
I would look dead if I didn't
**** and roll. Wrestling with me.
Struggling with my own mind
Sometimes I hold onto
a pillow because
I miss
sanity.
My first Nonnet!
© February 5th, 2013 by Timothy R Brown. All rights reserved
Next page