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 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
Amanda
Goodness, how many are there in my very heart & soul?

Even I am not entirely sure myself.

What makes me gasp with undiluted surprise and widened eyes is that
you,
sweet-heart,
manage to find each and every single one of them.
You say a shy 'Hello' and nudge the not-so-good softly.

You see me bare & human.
HiHiHi! How are you today, lovely reader? x
I hope you had a great week.
My hands and back hurt from ceramics BUT, it's worth it.
One fact about me: Easy Blusher.
Hohoho.
One fact about you, you and you?
Good morning sunshine, Good Afternoon Madam/sir or Good Night & Sweet dreams where-ever
YOU
are.
I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.
I could take the Harlem night
and wrap around you,
Take the neon lights and make a crown,
Take the Lenox Avenue busses,
Taxis, subways,
And for your love song tone their rumble down.
Take Harlem's heartbeat,
Make a drumbeat,
Put it on a record, let it whirl,
And while we listen to it play,
Dance with you till day--
Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl.
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
Kaweqamon
I wanted so badly to uncover a bright clean heart in you
I kept on digging like a mad dog in the dirt

I know it's gotta be here somewhere.
See this is urgent
All I wish for now is to find a glimmer of hope in the dirt
And climb on up to the surface with that treasure in the palm of my hand.

"See! Proof that you want to live to see tomorrow"
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
betterdays
-------- 25,729,437--------
(give or take a few)
minutes in my life.
the number is profound.

but,

it's not that easy, to break a life down.

i'm sure there is a calculation, that covers the basics bits, work, eating, sleeping, abultions.

but,

to bring the moments to the minutes,
thats a vastly different thing.

how do you count the moments of brillance,
that burn bright on the horizon beyond and before.

those moments of pure kindness or blind and ****** ignorance that elicit change.

the joy of the moment,
the rage of a second,
the hours borrowed
in worry never yet, to be repaid.

how many minutes wasted,
or not fully tasted,
devoured to quickly.

those seconds we fumble,
in awkward silences,
or those we waste wanting more.

then the hours of breastbeating
or simply bleating.
are they lesser in importance,

than,

the days lost in thought,
or in grief,
time spent, begging for relief,
from a heart so, so, sore.

remember the weeks,

when,

we sent packing,
the fox or the bear, the lion and the tiger from fear's flimsy,
fragile door.

months of not belonging,
then the longing
and finally
the lounging & laughing,
when tickled to our core,

the tock of the clock,
when we
are too cold,or too hot,
or
just,
not quite right.

time,
that keeps ticking,
while,
we are sticking our noses, where
they are not wanted.

time spent watching from afar,
minutes of small talk,
hours of deep
and meaningful,
days
of young lust,
months
of expectancy,
years
of togetherness,
decades
of love.
a delineation
of seperateness,
eons,  
immemorial,
of eternity.

these are the times,
of my minutes,
i want
ciphered,  
into
the fabric of time.
if i could write the way that you'd speak
my days of slinging beer would be behind me
     and i'd be sinking my teeth in to my third or fourth release

i just can't remember your voice

but i do remember your eyes
and if i could paint anything as gorgeous
as the way that you saw the world around you
     i might finally understand what you were always trying show me

i'm miserable at sorting through clues
     though i have been spending nights on end
sifting and measuring the magic of you
that still can't evade me
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
Lauren
this is you
and this is me
and this is us

this is the late night phone calls
about futures we are too sure of
the midnight drives
across miles we aren't scared enough of

the butterfly kisses
the chubby cheek kisses
the french kisses
on your bed

this is every night
I've called you crying
because my sister is too sick
to function normally

this is every day
you've called me fuming
because your dad makes you madder than you've been in months

this is you
this is me
this is us

this is the feeling I get in my gut
when you tell me you love me
this is the calm that takes over me
when your lips are pressed to mine

this is the tears that well in your eyes
when you look at me for too long
this is the quickness of your pulse
when my hands are in your hair

this is the closeness I feel to you
and you to me
the understanding we share
the laughs
the tears
the beauty
the bad

you, me, us, we
we are not our distance
we are not the miles between us
we are not the doubt
the fear
the complications

we are friendship
we are love
we are us

this is you
this is me
and this is us
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
R
10w
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
R
10w
ive never wanted to kiss
lips until i saw yours.
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
Lucanna
10w
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
Lucanna
10w
It would be a lot easier
if you

weren't beautiful
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
PrttyBrd
Bound
 Mar 2014 Sam Clemens
PrttyBrd
Existing tethered by hope
to a love not my own
31814
10w
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