I can attest that sometimes I am a little too much.
I crave the intensity of that first heart pump of blood rushing through me.
Overflowing and drowning my mind with endorphins.
I want to drink of the cup of everlasting life.
Drown in every pure moment of which is you.
I want to gasp for the air in the thickets rainforest.
& I'll be just as refreshed as I am in your spirit.
I’d crave the next chase.
The high only last just as brief as the flicker of your affection.
Take me down to the sea and allow it to wash over me; take over me.
I’d choke on the salt of the sea.
It would never leave me as bitter as when your love left me.
I’ve been chasing the birds.
Just to remember what it’s like to soar above the addiction.
Craving your caressing finger upon my skin.
Your finger tracing my hips.
It made me forget where I started and you began.
&&& I attest this is all too much.

Stephan W

I have seen you there,
standing alone, along the shoreline
    --if you only knew--
Your thoughts- a poetic buffering,
spoken out- onto weathered paper,
through trembling hands;  words
let in to the ocean wind--
the dreams of your heart, the needs,
ah, yes.. the deep needs of your heart...

    among these rocks,
    you are always alone.
    ~

At the tip of your fingers-- the small ridges;
fragmental, yet monumental imprints, etched
in to you, the moment your spirit entered
your temple. They tell the world of your story:
through fine, texture-perception, you feel it--
your trembling fingers grip the pen, expressing,
conveying your truth into a world that does not
hear.. a shallowing, that deafens..

    You glance at your fingertips--
    to assure, you're really there
    ~ ~

(The sea has picked up a bit, now
the waves, crashing against the rocks
rocks, that still won't hear..)

And here also, outlined
within the warm beat of the
human heart,
there is a sound that can be heard--
one similar to the aliveness
of the crashing waves.
Place your fingertips against those
that are real-
the sound blends-in perfectly
with the sea
as the uniqueness of imprinted ridge,
moves up against that of the other--
contrasting, here.. fitting together
perfectly, there..

    Scream, "I am!" to the sea; and see, love..
    scream it out, and see.
    ~ ~ ~

I am everywhere near you-- encouraging,
celebrating.. at times, weeping;  hands
outstretched, the uniqueness of my
own finger prints, longing
Along this shoreline, I have watched you
for an eternity, hoping
that you might somehow take it all, in.
Clouds beckon, asking again for the
earth's moisture

      and I respond,  e v ap o r a t i ng.

      ~ ~ ~ ~

Your small, beautiful feet, now
all pigeon-toed- now, standing
at the water's edge; as the
rain cloud gives up its prize
just beyond the breakers--

    (my imprint remains,
    but I am of the sea now..)

    Wade into me, love
    that I may wrap myself around you:
    Along this shoreline,
    may you never be alone again.

Swollen eyes,
These headaches
Tell me to stay present
Do not fear
We're one and the same
The pulse of each vein.
This noise
These sounds
Are not like the others.
Sweet syrup,
And warm embrace
Drown out the buzzers.
This music,
The sky,
Breathe in the filtered light
Just breathe.

Your presence ignites a spark
that you may not see
like a matchstick whose capable
of starting a fire in me

In your absence,
continues an ordinary day
until when you’re around do i display
a sense of enthusiasm
in the air
an energy only found
in your presence
when you are here.

I'm often reminiscent of times,
When my grandpa used to
Take me out on his bicycle,
We were just roaming around
His tunes always left me spellbound.
But it was so pure
He was one of those people for whom
Money held no allure
He was a man of passion and music,
He was a poet
But I didn't know it
He gave, not just with his words
But also his soul,
Even when he didn't have much control.
I would always ask him for a candy
I remember once he even gave me a sip of brandy
He never said no to me asking for a toy
He often considered me his blue-eyed boy
He would stop all his work and writing
Just to play with me outside,
Whether clear skies or lightning
Now that he's no more
I miss him and the lessons he tried to instil within me
But more than that
I often miss that genuine connection
With someone who understood so much,
But still cared enough to smile and laugh along
The man with a golden touch
With him, I was happy as the day is long.
The world will be a much better place
If we all could learn to live our life
With his grace.