Something happened this morning
when I awoke to you lightly breathing.
It was sublime.
My chin rested on your shoulder
the skin so soft on my cheek.
I couldn’t help but kiss the sweetness.
On nights when I sleep alone
it does not matter how many blankets
wrap my restless body.
I wake cold.
Nothing is as warm as your arms.
Like that of a Texas breeze
on an August night.
I can only think to kiss
your unshaven face.
The kisses are planted gently,
first your cheek,
then your temple,
and your forehead,
when I come to the tip of your nose
you stir slightly,
but I cannot stop.
I want it more then
the ocean waves need
the shoreline to crash upon.
Looking at your face
I smile at the odd way we met.
With a breath of rum and an intoxicated
grin we spoke.
“I don’t like you”
“Yea? Well I don’t like you first!”
Like children picking
on their first crush.
Tying to fight back the giggles.
Our childish ways still
In your absence I sit
and watch the ticking minutes
laugh at my uneasiness.
Hours with others
are mere minutes with you.
The clocks envy
our cherished time
and tick-tock more rapidly
when we are alone.
All our time
would never be
When we get lost in each other,
the way the lonely roadrunner
looses himself as he runs
up and down
the oak covered hills,
it is love at its best.
when the soft breathes
you took woke me
and my chin rested upon
As the kisses fell
and your eyes continued to sleep;
I realized that this
is where I belong.
into love with you.
This world we live in is terribly cold
Stone hearts will chill your bones
Kill your soul or so I have been told
By experiences of varried tones
If you could travel through
A mile or two in my shoes
You would lose your mind
And leave reality behind
Just like I did in a devilish bid
To try and find hope,
And a way to cope
With this life so morbid
Dealing with years of abuse
Each time I would reduce
And shelter my mind away
Blocking out the violent foray
The constant concussive ridicule
From parents with a wrathful rule
Their constant battery to my psyche
Has left me with barely any sanctity
Of mind, soul, and heart
All piles of rubble before I could start
So when I wander yonder, I cart
Around my dead childhood
Through this broken neighbourhood
While I wear an obsidian hood
So people don't see the real me
Enough said, it would fill you with dread
Because if only you could see
The face behind the mask,
You might finally know me
In a deeper sense, my task
The method to my madness
That I am acting under duress
I might impress upon your life
What it means to go through strife
You may have done worse deeds
But you didn't have to live your life on Speed.
When your eyes lit up and your face softened
I knew at that moment your muse had spoken
like a spell cast I must of given a superstitious glance
you gave me the passageway
Secrets from your dreams seducing me
subtle insights leave me in desperation
everything you've said transcends me
I had my eyes closed imagining
your concepts-- inducing
These feelings. Uncontrollable, unstable, almost useless yet never to a point of desperation. I yearn to feel them every day and when not, I feel nothing but deep, soulful pain. What is this force that has come over me? Could I be crazy, psychotic in ways of no mans understanding. Unable to force my way through life like others, hindered by an anchor in the mind. Or perhaps I am perfectly normal. An automaton in the gear works of humanity, moving forward every day, no thoughts at all. Is it peace or war I must strive for? Are these feelings of poison and deceit or beauty and freedom? Can I live my life normally, falling through the gaps, flying high, diving low, always empty on the inside by my lack of insight of this feeling? When I stand upon the clifftops, gaze out into the sea, raise my voice and scream at the top of my idiomatic lungs, I am in love! I am in love. For all the answers this world has ever seen, nothing seems to solve more than the simple turn of phrase, I am in love.
A visit to the library,
And returning I opened the book
I’d waited for a long impatient month.
Knowing it to be brim full of inspirational words,
I had only to read a few paragraphs
When it came to me,
When there was this moment
Poets call epiphany.
Into another place, beyond the printed page, mysteriously I slipped. I think it’s where your creative spirit lives and thrives, a place your flowing thoughts reside. There, the energy of your spirit flashes in the dark, and there exists the archetypes of all your inward eye brings forth. There the marked surfaces carry the chemerical accident of objects placed and pressed, and there the passage of your sewing hand’s rich rightness of intuition guides. In tandem they touch me to the quick; they scare and scar me. And why? – I sense in them this vigor; a potency no less, strength so wholly absent from my declining store of sad objects and false fashionings.
And all that careful reasoning
I'd so variously composed,
became then as nothing,
nothing against the truth
of what you make
and what I know you are.
it was as though the language
of stars was translated to me.
i realized my past was not
(how can you see your path
when you always look behind you?)
Things are knocking at my door, and their faces are familiar
Because I’ve felt them before.
Feelings are falling from the sky and landing in my body,
And it’s a bad night for rain, my thoughts are still sore.
Your face is plastered all over my brain’s walls,
And I’m just waiting for my heart to start receiving them too.
Your hands are what my body is waiting for,
There are prints already there because my body’s impatient for you
Come collapse beside me and come to the realization
That I come to each time we speak
Travel into my mind and down my spine and see what I’m about,
Your lack of contribution makes me weak
Tonight, I spoke into the darkness,
No stars to light my way,
The black void all encompassing
My words drifting up in ribbons,
I waited for something, anything to happen
I felt a rumble that was akin to ripples emanating from a drop of water hitting a puddle
I was small next to the impossible,
And when it spoke back, it changed me
The blank canvas of stark black was pierced by blades of light,
The sky becoming a shutter in a rain storm
Blowing open and closed
The words came and wrapped themselves across my body in its entirety
Constricting my air flow
I felt myself shatter
An implosion of feeble glass
Ricocheting through a skeleton of paper, reflecting the brightness above inside ripped skin
I was nothing.
I didn't exist.
I floated in an incomprehensible place that had no end, no walls
No ceiling or floor
Just illumination in every direction
I opened my eyes
And was blinded by an incredible radiance
I shut my eyes tight and swatted in front of me
My hand struck something metal and I yelped in pain
I shot up and stared downward
Towards the desklamp unplugged on the floor
Breathing heavily, I sat upright in my bed,
Struggling to pull away words that had already sunken in
Ice crystal, Dust –
Carnal cisterns of spirit
Ordered by love.
©2012 W.S. Warner
I don’t really love them,
They are tools to hide myself from maturity
Today I split them aside
Now there’s a brand new me
Facing you with more sensuality
More biting fingers
and more contemplating
I feel like I could be everything,
your almost-married partner
The angel in the house
Or sweetheart from college.