Oh hello there my darling,
Didn’t expect to see you today
Didn’t expect to smell your perfume
Didn’t expect to feel your gaze
And now my thoughts are wandering
Yeah my heart is pondering
And I’m truly wondering
What is that which binds us?
What is that which keeps us close?
What is that which twines our dreamscapes?
What is that which holds us close?
I thought you’d had your fill of me
God knows I had my fill of you
Yet you walk into my coffee shop
Just as if you were meaning to
Your lips open and say hello
My hand tightens on my coffee cup
And I give some blithe rejoinder
That my mind blankly summons up
But if you look into my eyes, my darling
You may just notice a shade of fear
I don’t know if I can take this
I don’t know, I truly don’t, my dear.
And so our words do dance in tandem
And so our eyes do dance uncertain
While my heart begins to tremble
Oh love, no need to dissemble
Remember those sweet days of autumn?
When we talked all day
And yes danced all night
And you wore that plaid shirt just for me?
I remember, oh I remember
I wish I don’t.
So now my thoughts are wandering
Yeah my heart is pondering
And I’m truly wondering
What is that which binds us?
What is that which keeps us close?
What is that which twines our dreamscapes?
What is that which holds us close?
Don’t think I don’t still love you, my darling
Don’t think I don’t still miss your sunny smile,
Yet now I just can’t talk and be all normal.
Someday, maybe, but for now,
Farewell.
Tag: poetry
Orange Shades
A needle scratches
vinyl, loss of notes so warm,
a needle patches
ripped spot in his jeans well worn.
He smooths that charismatic carpet
and so
he crooks his elbow in sympathy
just so
and rests his head upon it
like so
and he ponders the stars
dancing across his eyelids
for so
he knows
a secret.
Away spins the music down the
alleyways of his most treasured
memories
and yeah,
away spins his boot across the
vinyl, floor masquerading as
polished wood
and yeah,
away spins his thoughts upon
the streets of the true promised
treasuries
and yeah,
away spins the weight of glory,
away spins the long told story,
away spins the
song of stars,
a mystery unfurled.
Song of stars and stars of light – what promises do you tell this night?
Remind me dear and draw me near – what sweet mysteries will blaze to life?
Veil of linen and veil of stars,
one to herald, one to hide!
One proclaiming and one declaiming,
One no longer shines with light.
One veil yet whispers, whispers
Whispers to that wistful sight.
The needle trembles, I stir,
Awake my soul.
Carpet smooth under my head,
Be still my soul.
Away spins the long promised song,
Arise my soul,
For so
I do desire a better country
Just so.
Just so.
Tennis Court
Softly drooping willow fronds and
lonely little gosling feathers
and a concrete bench perches
upon the brink.
Singing these songs, we wait
for a silence to break
all these words tumbling over
each other
ceaselessly.
You can say you’re sorry
and that you love me and
that everything will be all right
and I know that you’re not quite wrong
but you’re not
quite right.
So keep singing these songs
and we’ll wait
for a silence to break
all these words tumbling over
like the tapping
on our phones.
You can grab your coffee cup
and lean forward on your elbows
in that special way you do for me
and I know that you’re not quite wrong
but you’re not
quite right.
And yeah be singing those songs
and we’ll wait
for a silence to break
all these words tumbling over
in sync
like these beating hearts.
You can put your book down
and cry your tears and my honey
I know it hurts I know
and I know that you’re not quite wrong
and you’re not
quite right.
It’s alright.
It’s alright.
There’s a cold bench
somewhere
sitting atop a brink
somewhere
and goslings under willow trees
somewhere
and it’s alright.
It’s alright.
Beatrice
Light of day is fading fast and
night is cold and wan
and the moon
smiles sheepishly.
Yet – bubbling vegetable stew
and soft flickering candles
and a glass of wine upon the table.
Song of day is soaring forth and
night is warm and full
and the girl
blushes radiantly.
Smoldering
A riot of watercolors
and tapestry of tears,
a whispering of smooth jazz and
a slow dance of the years.
A subtle raising of eyebrows,
and dizzy sparkling eyes,
a conversation of laughter
and a slow dance of sighs.
Sitting under maple trees
in lush autumn and
drinking tea with
purest honey and
feeling the sweet caress of wind off the sea and watching clouds dissolve in unprovoked giggles amid the rain falling from hooded eyes of
the storm
and feeling the
warm blush from
sun unveiling and
watching the stars
write a new symphony.
A soulful lilting of trumpets,
violins sing that tune,
two hands now clasped lovingly and
slow dance under the moon.
Tilted
Good evening! I don’t usually post my handwritten poems, but well. In a rare pensive yet sharing mood and so here you go. Tread soft and listen close. And have a most lovely night, my dear friends. Always.
Haunting cries
the star,
echoing the song
of a final
wistful soul.
Upon the withered
tree
a fruit hangs
waiting
for a drop
of rain.
And near atop
the moor
a boy runs his hand
across the thistles
wild
and aching with
the beauty all,
he
haunting cries.
Not Our Land
Upon the earth, a cracked bell rings
violently
and urgently
and men heed the call to arms.
Upon the earth,
thunder booms and
lightning crackles
and eyes look up in wrath and pain.
Upon the earth, a siren keens
shrilly
unceasingly
and men laud the call to war.
There is a girl
who shuts her eyes
in terror of the wrath of men unbridled.
There is a boy
who shudders fresh
in anticipation of monsters nearing.
There is a woman,
she soft moans
for abandoned hope and shredded innocence.
There is a man,
he cries and shakes
for eroded monuments and torn pretense.
Upon the earth, the gleeful dark
laughingly
and viciously
descends to seek and devour.
Upon the earth,
serpents writhe and
red rivers run
and eyes look up in pouring rain.
Upon the earth, last hope dwindles
mournfully
and with no song,
and all is dark,
not yet dawn.
There is a man,
he cries and prays
for the city wrought of pure love unbounded.
There is a woman,
she soft sighs
for precious hope and heaven’s hosts approaching.
There is a boy
who sings anew
in anticipation of the hope of nations.
There is a girl
who lifts her eyes
to the nearing song of the restoration.
Upon the earth, the trumpet sounds
soaringly
and gloriously
and all the skies shimmer in awe.
Upon the earth,
oceans kneel and
mountains spread their skirts
and eyes look up in hope again.
Upon the earth, Christ descends,
achingly
beautiful and
a rose petal gently flutters
to the earth.
Moonlight
Sitting prettily in the sky,
inky black surrounding jewel white,
star song is fading into dawn
and delicately softly steps the moon.
And golden moonlight spills down to
earth and all the land sighs in wonder and
the moon dances prettily in the sky.
The Lord has placed it there.
Yes
Windswept roads and
chocolate
eyes
and leaves of
orange and red and yellow
and palm fronds dip and sway to
the music of the sun
and clouds dance and shimmer and
blue shines
the sky.
Swift Sunrise
A lilting laugh and fields of green,
and all the clouds dance triumphant –
morning light and friend so sweet,
how can we not praise the King?
Upon a mountain, flowers lush,
and grass bending gently under
the kiss of the wind and
only the song of the birds
touch the silence.
Once upon a time,
Once upon this earth,
there was a man
and he was called from
a far country,
and he looked to the heavens
and he let his gaze linger upon the stars.
And he walked on and ever on.
The road was long and rocky yes,
and it led him he knew not where,
but his heart was full of love endued
and his eyes glinted grey in joy.
The road led him he knew not where,
and he walked in weariness at times,
but he walked not alone.
Once upon a time,
Once on this dear earth,
there was a man
and he was called to
a far country,
and he looked up to heaven.
And his eyes reflected back the stars.
Something Weird 