persistent as a ubiquitous urchin
charmingly offering promises
disguised as roses in her tiny hand

depriving as inanimate loveliness
pinned for posterity under glass
posing as a butterfly's fragile elegance

precious as tears welling involuntarily
in a singular moment of transient truth
when a beauty is fully comprehended

…such is the desperation of time

If I approach you my hair feints,
In the wind like my heart.

If I look at you my eyes glaze up,
A beautiful birdy flies by.

What little words we seldom share,
I show such trouble speaking.

What little time near you I spend,
I have such fainty breathing.

Rain drops feel like your finger tips,
What I imagine touch to be.

Temperate waters in the harbour,
To carry boats fine out to sea.

when did i last spend a good time?

a second, a minute, an hour, a day
one undiluted, unmixed, pure, and raw,

a good time, truly good, without a flaw.

was it those moments of ******* height
when sans one sense, all else was dark night

or the time spent brief in her warm embrace
seeking her moons reading map on her face

it could be the while when a gust of joy
made this heart shine like a boy

a flashing streak of event that lit up the soul
from pieces of fragments revealed the whole

getting from a girl her kiss of innocence
drench with her in first summer rains

reaching a heaven from far firmament
by a smile from the boy a dime i lent

turning that page of a now lost time
when this mind first chanced upon a rhyme

they rush like tide set me to brood
from the budding child to the aging manhood
where in the memory now thick with grime
lies hidden the passing of the last good time!

dear lovely stranger,

perceive your life, in its exact and precise moment with all its jagged wounds and bleeding scars and broken smiles and flittering moments of happiness, as you would in the eyes of a stranger you can't seem to forget from all these years ago who only lives as a fading silhouette in your memories.

And I promise, lovely stranger,
that they will see the magic in you that you can't seem to recognize in your own eyes.

Some people study others and                  then they have the secrets on how to destroy them.

            Often they don't and this is love.

Actions are words at deeds,
Feelings untold,
Feelings unspoken,
Actions are worth better at showing.

Love is a building tool,
Hearts breaking,
Hearts leaking,
Love is still a mending wool.

How do you say these words felt?
When is the right moment to voice them?
What hormone builds such a desire?
Will these emotions ever die?

Words Unspoken,
Hearts sealed,
Love leaking,
Thoughts hindering.

Words untold,
By a heart dreading,
To a heart unknowing,
For a stranger unseeing.

You used to worke me out, but you never worked it out for me.

I am the Poet, hear my siren’s song
My woven whispers ****** ways and words
Mesmerizing, you will feel you belong
Be part of an inner circle and be heard

Write with me, no lines will be false or blurred
Together we will create and be strong
There’s no need for pleasure to be deferred
I am the Poet, hear my siren’s song

I have been sad and alone way too long
Belonging together is most preferred
Creating brings joy, won’t you come along?
My woven whispers ****** ways and words

Take a chance and your senses will be stirred
Part of our circle, not lost in the throng
We are more together, grace is conferred
Mesmerizing, you will feel you belong

All ideas are welcomed, no thought is wrong
Just know this; your spirit won’t be interred
May our venture be successful and long
Be part of an inner circle and be heard
I am the Poet

krs
July 21, 2015