This desire
For someone to love us
To care about us
And for us to take care of them,
If I have someone I can talk to,
And when they ask me questions,
The same topics and interests
Is there anything more fulfilling than that?
Could that be the point of life?
Could that be the purpose of living?
Or the bane of our existence?

Let Us Go

At great risk we go
through certain half deserted
streets.  The lights burn holes
in my contemplations.  The spine
of poetry is fallen and lies
spattered on the ground

Go with me. The vocabulary
inspired by the sea air will
carve runes in the granite.

We travel light. Our skin, like
canvas ingrained with words,
bleeds.

We drop to our knees in
silent supplication.  Sounds
paint where rhyme
leaves
trails.

There is no tomorrow.  


Caroline Shank

you don't need to be with someone at that moment

it's  intimate

too intimate

maybe

a little breeze will be all you”ll need

like a kiss on your chin

or forehead

I  would prefer calm rain

as if

someone still will want to cry for me like in the old days

like when people were dressing up in black
caring neatly folded handkerchiefs

a dream

lost in thought
chin dropped to chest
clumsily will take it out
to shed a tear

then
bent like a willow

will leave


but

if the sunrise

the sunrise will come down with me
when the birds pour forth their song
and the thick grass breathes the sleep of first lovers

or

maybe

late rains will come on their own
in the winged world will come
for the thirsty  one

I said, "it's not that I'm lazy,
it's that I don't like work."

He said, "it's not that I don't
like work, it's that I'm lazy."

We pondered that
for a while, then decided it was
a "po-tay-to/po-tah-to" type of thing.

So we shook hands,
wished each other well,
and went our separate ways.