Tark Wain

Tark Wain Feb 2017

If all good love poems
rest on metaphors
Then I'll write with one
that you could've searched
the world three times over for
and never found before

like the last puppy
lying on its on back
in front of a convenience store
the one that was unaccounted for

that little crease on the windshield
the one your wipers could never reach
or that annoying kid with ADD
the one your teacher could never teach
(me)

time is at once infinite and definite
life is short, yet is the longest thing we'll ever do
why must we lust for forever
when we know a dinner for two at 2 would do

Prince and Princess charming aren't walking through that door
which makes me question what we believe in happily ever after for
and I won't become a cynic
and if only a writer that could never write is deemed a critic
then i'll drop my pen
and drink all the ink in it

love is a four letter bubble
what looks to be
a meandering ascent into nothingness to those outside
but is a self sustaining world to those who inhabit it

what good is an art
if one can not master it

face it
a critic's a poet and a writer
that could never quit

Tark Wain Jan 2017

It's Not the Same

It's not the same

Your dress looks beautiful
the weather is fantastic
this restaurant you picked
amazing
the waiter
delightful

It's not the same

What did Gina tell you?
That her bladder is so small that she has to ***
every time she washes her hands?
that's hilarious
how inconvenient

It's not the same

Pass the salt
no the other salt
haha
I know that's pepper
what a cute smile you have when you're playing a joke

It's not the same

Always the jokester
never serious

It's not the same

Did you smile like that when you let him touch you it's not the same

What a beautiful dress you have
can I try some of your pasta
wow
delicious
you know I heard it was supposed to storm out in--

It's not the same

I think I'm going to use the restroom
*** even though you don't even have to
Now that I am washing my hands I do
I'm no better than ******* Gina
Don't punch the wall

It's not the same

You forgave her
she apologized
she had to apologize
punch the wall

It's not the same

Finish washing your hands
Compose yourself
You love her
and she loves you
she always did
she made a mistake
we all make mistakes

It's not the same

not like that
we don't all do that
THAT
is not normal
Hi
Honey yes, they do have towels in the bathroom
no I didn't know they used to make creme brulee here
why did they stop?
wow amazing
why did you stop?

It's not the same

I look tired?
Works been crazy
good lie
you're worrying
she doesn't know
or care

It's not the same

You forgave her
That doesn't mean I have to
because I know
as well as you do
as much as you try to fight it

It's not the same

Tark Wain Jan 2017

Are you reading this

It's 9 p.m. where you are
Not where I am
because you left
I know

I don't think you think about me still
Pacing in the shadow of my windowsill
wondering if I should tell you, I love you still
I want things to change but I don't think they will

Love is not nearly as fragile a thing as time
When the winds of life have come to pass
all we're left with is a participation trophy
and a blurry past

Ocean waves wash over me
I like the stains they leave
Upon my skin that's now paper thin
as the years pass me by

I am suffocated by the thought of losing you
so much so that may I take one last breath
yet I have one more thing to say before I rest

If you really loved me... you would never have left

Tark Wain Jan 2017

It's 9 p.m where you are

It's 9 p.m. where you are
Not where I am
because you left
I know

I don't think you think about me still
Pacing in the shadow of my windowsill
wondering if I should tell you, I love you still
I want things to change but I don't think they will

Love is not nearly as fragile a thing as time
When the winds of life have come to pass
all we're left with is a participation trophy
and a blurry past

Ocean waves wash over me
I like the stains they leave
Upon my skin that's now paper thin
as the years pass me by

I am suffocated by the thought of losing you
so much so that may I take one last breath
yet I have one more thing to say before I rest

If you really loved me... you would never have left

Tark Wain Jan 2017

Perhaps

If every rose be red
And every violet, blue
Then perhaps every path
Will lead me back to you

Tark Wain Jan 2017

Goodbye

It's not that
I didn't know what I had
It's just that
I never thought I'd lose it

Tark Wain Jan 2017

Ethereal

You are not the roses' thorn
an overused trope in poetry
a metaphor beaten so close to death
that I'd be shocked to see it walk

You are not the sun's rays
beating down on me
constantly reminding me
of their presence

You are beyond words
You are beyond definition
How am I supposed to say with 26 letters
that which I couldn't say with a thousand

You are ethereal
You grace is unmistakeable
You are not of this world
therefore we could never be