I like words
The way they give you power
To go anywhere
To do anything
To forget

I have stolen
the years
of your life
with love
and hate
but now stop
waiting
for a change

I am sorry
but it’s necessary
for renewal
A new start

Wow, just wow
That performance deserves a bow
She wanted the freedom of being single
So I decided to get back out there and mingle
Then she decides to love me once more
I welcomed her back as someone I truly do adore
Even though I tried to discard those feelings
Having her back has spread my wings
Spread them wide and learn to fly
So as not to break down and cry
We are back together, Hannah and Ben
I knew nothing would stop us from being together again

When what is new
Stays through night's wading charm
And lasts not for fame's harm
But ignorance left here with thee
There you invite something special, something free.

Where you use what is new
And usurp the old order
You taste what lore old beggars do
And beautify lost tomes once more

When you find what was forgotten
And wrap wedded slogans on yourself
Raise slightest youth from its ignorant ways
There, thine work is well founded,
And your spirit well freed

Things are wiggling and wobbling
And shaking and stirring and
I can hear the downstairs neighbor
Slam their door.

It’s all so infantile the way we
Hang on each other’s words
Waiting for some misplaced
Inflection and damning each other
For it.

The winds blowing harder now,
I can feel it. And yet,
The birds are still chirping even
During the storm.

Maybe they figured something out
That we haven’t quite yet
Maybe they are able to focus
On the fact the storm has to end.

Instead of focusing
On how long it will last.

The world looks freshly painted
directly after the rain,
each surface glistening in the streetlight:
newly created.
As if a great artist
in a flash of inspiration
(like the strike of lightning
that preceded this storm)
envisioned this all in her head,
called it instantaneously into being
on her canvas.
All the colors, still wet,
slowly flowing into each other.
The pavement, the fallen leaves,
my footprints trailing through.
At the corner, I look behind me.
My footprints are gone, ****** into the paint;
it smoothed itself out as I passed, in my wake.
Wet and breathing spring: a perpetually-renewing clean slate.

I know how you feel
On knowing it was I who killed her
But she kept on begging
From the other side of the mirror

The world lies in a quiescent state;
Darkness robs even more of the light
from a planet
steadily growing colder.

Sounds of the breeze exhaling down the
spine of the Old Oak makes me
cringe. What's happened
to the songs of the forest?

This woodland heart, frozen solid by
Old Man Winter's icy fingertips,
sleeps peacefully
among lives that are on pause.

A bitter kiss from the old man's lips
and we are prepared for our slumber.
Eternal dreams
preface our resurrection.

for me
  
    ever since my mother died
    on the day spring began
    eleven years ago

my joy over the annual reburgeoning of life
also evokes the memory of death

I know
death is unique and final
     spring is eternal

but all the lovely flowers sprouting forth
always remind me of my mother’s love
of flowers and all other natural beauties
like sea shells  pine cones  precious stones …

maybe it was appropriate
    after all
for her to leave this earth
when it brought forth new life again
    bursting into renewal
as if to compensate us
for our loss