I can write wonderful words of eloquence
Describing in detailed elegance 
the pictures in my mind.

But when it comes to speaking aloud,
Especially in front of the smallest crowd
There are no words to find.

That's why I pick up my pen to write,
To let all of my dreams take flight 
And go explore the worlds.

Then perhaps while they explore 
They'll listen to my heart as it implores,
"Find me that perfect girl."

Off soar my dreams with the stroke of the pen
To search for the girl that my heart seeks within
To find only a broken blue heart.

So they search for and gather some of the pieces,
For the ones they can't find, their sorrow increases
Their eloquence falling apart.

With what small courage I had, my heart tries to speak
But it fumbles and falls, and feels like a freak
Our weakness fully revealed

Yet touching my heart, she helps it to stand
My own broken pieces enclosed in her hand
And nothing left to conceal.

The rest, you could say, will be history
But 'til then it will stay a mystery
I can't wait to be told

For now my dreams are straining more,
While I just sit here waiting for
My story to unfold.

1/30/16 12:01am

They say there are two sides to every story,
Try putting yourself in my hat!

It's irrelevant,
You wouldn't know how it feels,
No clue.

I put away my eloquence,
But because I'll be simple!

You wouldn't understand it either,
It's incomprehensible.

Eloquence is comprehensive beauty.
Brevity shows a command and respect of time.
Wisdom breeds their concurrent existence

wizards of words
relish silence.

blazing stars
cry out light.

butterfly thinks
immortality can wait.

Lord of silence
oozes confidence.

sweet nothings
are most eloquent.

With an azure drinking cup studded with lapis, wait for her
In the evening at the spring, among perfumed roses, wait for her
With the patience of a horse trained for mountains, wait for her
With the distinctive, aesthetic taste of a prince, wait for her
With seven pillows stuffed with light clouds, wait for her
With strands of womanly incense wafting, wait for her
With the manly scent of sandalwood on horseback, wait for her
Wait for her and do not rush.

If she arrives late, wait for her.
If she arrives early, wait for her.
Do not frighten the birds in her braided hair.
Wait for her to sit in a garden at the peak of its flowering.
Wait for her so that she may breathe this air, so strange to her heart.
Wait for her to lift her garment from her calf, cloud by cloud.
And wait for her.

Take her to the balcony to watch the moon drowning in milk.
Wait for her and offer her water before wine.
Do not glance at the twin partridges sleeping on her chest.
Wait and gently touch her hand as she sets a cup on marble.
As if you are carrying the dew for her, wait.
Speak to her as a flute would to a frightened violin string,
as if you knew what tomorrow would bring.
Wait, and polish the night for her ring by ring.
Wait for her until Night speaks to you thus:
There is no one alive but the two of you.
So take her gently to the death you so desire,
and wait.

You asked if I loved you so here is my answer:
You see I didn't buy you, but here you are. Some might say I won you at a game station at a county fair. Maybe I did, or maybe I won you in a birthday party ticket raffle. Either way I'm stuck here trying to keep this gold fish alive kind of like how I try to love things, but we both know it will die soon anyway.

the     way        he
tilted    his    head
was mesmerizing
the      fact      that
he  actually cared
was      surprising
the    manner    of
his        eloquence
was     tantalizing