It's been a while
Since I've written here,
The dust has grow
Upon these words.
The fluidity with which once they flowed,
Gone.
Gone is the promise of a new day,
A new sun,
A new poem,
Gone is that ready elegance.
Words come out now, yea,
But forced.
The line breaks choppier,
The rhythm forced and staccato
Rather than the smooth sailing
Or the fierce and glorious torment
Of a summer tempest
O'er the high seas.
But here I am,
Time have I,
And so
I write.

I skipped some passion
There was a moment when words pulsed
Through my veins
And instead of letting the blood flow from my finger tips
I pent it up
Instead of penning it out

Girl, you're crazy

So, it's late
I'm late to class
The funeral's started
And my ship's just set sail
And as the wave get choppier
I realize that I'll never get there
No use fighting the ocean, right?
Divine intervention

I have no time to give
And no hour worthwhile
And every minute is a breath
Every second is nice touch

There's candlelit dinners awaiting
in the silence of drawn curtains and misery
Someone asked me to build God

No one asked me anything

Mix little lies and lots of truth
Call it a serum for relations

She says the truth is so dark
I think of pitch blackness

Have I mentioned I find comfort in the blackness of night?
Get that anonymity

Swallow to let it hurt you
Spit it out to let me know
I swear I'm ready to understand,
You just need to let me.

Composed while I worked, it is choppier than my mental version, sadly.  (My pet desire...)



(sonnet #MCMLXIX)


I've wanted to nourish love within these lines,
That thence the beauty of the mind, if't be
Such excellence to prove, yet how few see
Who say, "her coy reserve but half aligns
With that pink mini skirt--" as who divines
I actually think? might herein shine while we
Delve those far deeper wells my modesty
Or flirting glance, my pretty face, none mines?
Hence, Dearest, know that I write truly, nor
Am merely bandying words your touch would feign
Get thus the better of, when I adore
The way you think, the subtle cords that gain
My heart and set on fire, which I'd deplore
To outright say.  And still, I want that strain.

11Feb13a