#dulcinea
I think about it, *******
And it leads me to this place.
Teeth all clenched and aching now,
From shouting in your face.
I told you, I ******* hate poetry.
But you poets listen, and then you don't.
You can't, you never will,
Touch me with your sentiments,
Dropped at my windowsill.
God **** your muse, her wells of eyes,
Just **** the ***** and be done.
Stiffen readers with the tale,
But don't count me as one.
Your Dulcinea's sweet and, well,
(She's better than the last…)
You're dying for a future now,
Not living in the past.
For sweet Art's sake, a nest of lies,
The poverty of self,
puts You up high and lost, in shadow,
and Pining, on the shelf.
So speak your mind now, if you must,
Aloud, to no avail.
Your nature blind of clever words,
Is always bound to fail.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Hello again, raven, I’m glad that you’re here,
It’s been far too long since you came.
I missed your black feathers, your gravelly call,
Becomes music when speaking my name.
Lean close, my bird, and tell me a secret,
Any, if yours, will do.
I’m too long alone, and the world is too guarded,
I’m pinning my hopes all on you.
Lean again, bird, and tell me some more,
Black feathers cantilevered,
Away and Away.
Drink of me,
And Drink of you,
As we think all the night into day.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
It's a ridiculous cliche but, god **** it, your eyes...
Forgive me if I don't always make eye contact,
Or look away too soon. I'm listening. I swear it.
I'm afraid you might think that I'm full of myself,
Or afraid you might think that I've no self-esteem.
The truth is much simpler than either extreme.
The truth is I'm somewhere right in between.
but still:
Twin seas draw my stare and I fear what I'll say.
Fear falling into their unlit depths, where even my silence could betray.
The source to illuminate and fuel our lives' desires,
Find it in her hands , her touch,
Find it in her eyes.
Her eyes of ocean depth see me,
Giving no safe place to hide,
Searching bad cliches for the light, the otherness inside.
But what if all of my words are wrong?
What if they drive you away?
What if the light between oceans is mute?
Insufficient to make you stay?
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
Always, I have been here before.
I tried living backwards with her,
Asking the questions after her answers,
Falling in love once she was long gone.
But that was another, not the same, in a chain of serial Dulcineas.
But then you came along and climbed down from that pedestal,
you slapped me,
Hard,
But laughed,
And I realized,
how you had been right,
All along.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 8:02 AM UTC