LOVE POEM #53 – BLUE EYES

They look like the summer sky at midday

dotted with lazy summer clouds,

or perhaps like the arctic frost in spring

as it sheds from winter’s grasp.

Yet without the warmth of your coy smile

or the hymn in your flowered voice

I can’t shake that the icy glare you’ve got

means lonely nights for me ahead.

Which makes me think to Vivaldi’s Seasons:

that in your eyes I can find life.

That I can find the fresh roots of new spring

and summertime jingles that birdies sing

mixed in with the faded red leaves of fall

before winter comes to bury it all.

And that hidden beneath these vibrant songs

is the love you held for me all along.

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MAGIC LOST (AND OTHER HAIKUS)

Magic Lost

Where’d the magic go?

Lost somewhere between the sheets

and the long walk home.

 

Vices

Take another sip

of that poison you cling to.

Tell me how it burns.

 

Intellect

For all our knowledge

we worry about days past

more than mindless rocks.

 

Seabound

If all of the seas

were to close their ports to me,

I’d still wave to you.

 

A Way Out

If they had forced me

to kill someone, I’d choose to

kill them with kindness.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #50 – HOW MANY POEMS

How many poems till she realize she matters?
How many poems till she escape this disaster?
How long till she makes her defection?
Stands up for herself
And fights for her own protection?

I
Get the impression
That all the rejection
Normalized his affection
And led to her concession,

But I’m
The only one with objections.
The only one with obsessions
The only one with confessions.
The only one with depression.

So where in the world
Were all those processions
That told the girl she’d be saved
By divine ascension?

It was a lie.
It was a lie!

Saying when pig would fly
Was like waiting for goodbye.
Told the world I loved her
And her rivers ran dry.

So goodbye.

Goodbye.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #49 – SCHADENFREUDE

The Germans made this lovely noun,

which we adopted into English

somewhere in the mid 19th century,

precisely so I could talk about you today

 

with the utter respect you deserve.

You have spoiled me these past years

with your tantalizing lips, your perfect

hair, and your illustrious body. Too long

 

have you called me your sun and stars

behind closed doors and through keyholes

only to remind me that when we walked,

we could never walk together. Not while he

 

paid your rent. Not while you needed him

to get through college. Life is expensive.

That’s what you told me on the mattress

between sweat sessions in the apartment

 

last Tuesday morning before classes. Yet

the only expense I suffer is your big smile

every time you see me down the hall,

trying my best not too look at him

 

standing with his hands on your hips.

You don’t even hesitate to reach up

and pluck a ripe, juicy kiss from him then,

just to make my day taste sour.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #48 – MUDDY WATERS

The smoky voice, crackling

with the coarse rhythm

of an ancient studio recording,

asked the dimly lit room

to turn the lamps down low

 

and with the smell of

smooth Marlboro cigarettes

lingering after the heat of passion

she felt a quiet flame reignite

 

that she had thought was lost,

burnt out like the kindled fire

that was her first marriage.

 

Their silhouetted figures,

glistening with sweat in the moonlight,

sat sticky against the oak headboard;

limp thumbs tangled together.

 

He ruined that sweet moment,

as most men do,

when he turned to her

and whispered “I love you.”

 

That was all it took for the sweat

rolling down her chest

to freeze to ice, and soon

she was swimming

in muddied waters.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #46 – WHERE PIGS CAN FLY

I met a girl named Victoria

And suddenly I knew the meaning of euphoria.

It was like she had fallen from heaven

(‘Cause from one to ten, she was an eleven).

I thought, in truth, it was an angel I’d seen,

Because no one more perfect had ever been.

There was a shimmering smile in her eyes

That no mere mortal could have devised.

 

‘Course I’ve never been a religious man—

Never one to think there was a master plan.

But I was struck dumb on Earth that day,

And for all my words I could not say

What it was that she meant to me…

‘Cause together’s something we could never be.

 

Yes, perhaps there’s some perfect world

Where I end up being with that perfect girl.

Where hell freezes over and pigs can fly

And she breaks up with her perfect guy.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #44 – DUSTED CONSTELLATIONS

Look out the window,

I made that for you.

That low-hung half-moon,

Golden brown and smiling.

You remind me of it…

Or rather, it reminds me of you.

That beacon in the darkness,

Between the starlight,

Swaying with the sounds

Of smooth jazz in the night.

I can see you in her

On lonely nights.

On the broken porch steps,

The chill autumn breeze

Swirls along our fingertips,

Edging us closer.

I want to dance.

Take my hand,

Let me guide you

Across the sky tonight.

The two of us,

Dusted,

With wine on our lips,

Make for a lovely constellation.

Exhaustion.

Star gaze with me,

My little star girl.

So full of life;

So full of light.

Lie with me a minute,

And let eternity pass us by.

There’s no arms I’d rather call home.

——
 
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LOVE POEM#40 – THE GAME

She told me that I had to play the game,

Like love was some sort of arcade machine.

Or else, they wouldn’t remember my name,

And I’d be part of the men left unseen.

And I told her love wasn’t just some sport,

Where men won women like they won trophies.

It was more like a queen and king in court,

Who fell in love because they were lonely.

But with a small, wry, smile, she replied

“Well then go learn to play your game of thrones,

Though I think you’ll find you win or you die.”

And with that, she turned and left me alone.

And as I played I found myself a king,

But she told me that I’d lost a good thing.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #39 – APHRODITE

I wish you could see yourself

How I see you. It seems your eyes

Dim the reflection in your mirror,

And somehow

That luscious, golden smile, and

That blazing fire in your soul,

Becomes an extinguished charcoal

That’s full of imperfections.

And yet to me, you are anything

But imperfect.

 

There is no star as shiny;

No flower so sweet;

No winter could stymie

Your summer-like heat.

Your smile could make oceans

Weep rain to the skies;

Your heart’s like a potion

That makes brittle men spry.

Your lips are like a drug—

An addition I can’t shake,

And at night when I am snug,

Cravings for you make me wake.

 

Yet all of these are things you cannot see,

For unknown reasons, you think you can’t be

As beautiful as you appear to me,

And yet I would call you Aphrodite.

 

And were I Paris, I’d not hesitate

To set that golden apple on your plate,

Because no one is as perfect as you,

Even if you take yourself for a shrew.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #38 – HELLO

Hello..

I didn’t

Expect to see you

Here.

Or really,

Ever

To see you again.

 

And now that you’re here

I’ve never felt so…

Lost for words.

I mean don’t get me wrong,

You’re still exactly as

 

I remember you.

 

Your hair,

The deep, long

Silhouette

That haunts me

To this day.

 

Your eyes,

Closed now,

But still full

Of so much life;

So much light.

 

Your smile.

The tiny fret

That hung against

Your strained lips,

As you faked it

In front of our parents.

 

The touch of

Your cheeks,

Soft

Against the back

Of my fingers.

 

Oh, I remember you.

 

You don’t look a day older

Than when you left me.

And yet you’ve aged

Like a fine wine.

 

Though your hair has grayed,

And your face shows wrinkles,

You’ve never been more beautiful

Than you are today.

 

And I don’t even know

What I’m doing here.

Nobody knows me.

I turned up because

I saw your name,

Like a relic from the past,

Across every newspaper,

Every TV station,

And every Facebook feed.

 

And you would think

That with all this time apart

I would have found the words

To finally tell you

How much I missed you.

 

Even if you can’t hear me.

 

Even if the last words between us

Were “get out.”

Even if the tears of today do not

Forgive the sins of my past.

 

Because the obituaries

Just see you

For all you accomplished.

They see you

As some of object

For mankind.

 

“Beautiful,”

“Gorgeous,”

“An actress

Like no other.”

“A true inspiration

For women

Everywhere”

 

They never saw

The little girl,

Teary eyed

At her first role

In the school play.

 

They never saw

The young teen,

Frozen in fear

Back stage.

 

Do you remember that?

You don’t.

You can’t.

You were off stage right,

And they’d just said you cue,

And you were stuck there,

Till I pushed you out on stage.

 

And you were wonderful.

 

But they never saw that.

They’ll never see that.

Only I saw that.

And I’m sorry.

I am so sorry

 

That I wasn’t there;

That I put my work

Before your love;

That I put my words

Before your thoughts;

That I put my wants

Before your needs.

 

I’m sorry.

And I just wish

That I could have told you

Before it was too late…

But it is too late now.

So all I can say is

Goodbye.

——

 

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