Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Boarding Pass 93

Who will say "Honey, hurry home"
when the day drags on
and the need inside
for hands to hide
in rises to surface
and spills over the edge
of shimmering pools of sorrow?

Who will pull me back
and push me down
when I'm longing
for the ledge
when I'm leaning
over the edge
to forget it
to find it
to feel it all again
to believe it all again
and when?

Who will dream of the future
of the freedom
of loving
and laughing
or living in bliss
or at least believing
I exist
and I'm missed
when I'm lost...

Voices whisper "I will..."
as if a vow.
I heard it once
a wedding
together forever
and yes
I thought I too
would wed
but no not to be
not what she said
not to be dead
throwing arms
around misty faces
saying “I do”
fading back into you
into never
where I feel I must have come
or gone
or stay
on the dark side
of the moon bitter
abandoned yet
on some dream lit black night
someone just might
champion me
and say come with me.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Dew In the Harvest Moon

To search for the root of you
the tendril of your ecstasy
is the reason for muscularity
in a tongue.

Yet it tastes on its way
finds the saline in the succor
the sugar in your sap-making
cambium.

My tongue as a tap
as a means of production
of confectionery
cause celebre
makes me a farmer, a forester
a man who reaps what he sows
and toils in fields
once dead.

And on this eve
in this reprieve
this unrequited requiem
of the harvest moon
I will lay aside the scythe
and the plow
and instead look to you
deliciously organic
and till...
and till...
until nothing remains fallow.

Originally appears at WetPoems.

Sunday, July 15, 2007