New age affection

My version
of 21st century companionship
lies in this:

“I am watching the next episode
without you!”

Her response;
one filled with dread,
a side of regret
and an explosion
of over-exaggerated
apology.

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On their own

When
in the midst
of serenity, the
stomach, of its own
volition, writhes in agony.

When in response, the mind
of its own volition, beckons wildly
to vision, stale but savory smiles,
smiles, and the heart of
its own volition,
anchors itself
to tear
drop shaped
anvils. A breath
in cahoots with existence,
chants the falling anvil into
a haste as it crashes through the
thinly layered joy we have been
draped in.

Then our weakened
eyes rise to
a door ajar, and
hand to the
air in a
blue wave.

Good bye serenity.
Please do visit again.

Welcome, fear.

And this spell
shall pass.

I welcome the day
I fear the day.

When your kiss,
rested on my left
and right,
will, in the red of a snow,
spell civility.

How hard
must I starve this heart
for my fear to find me?

Falling rock

It’s a gradual falling;
unabated,
of the humble and pleased rocks
through the running waters.

I pray,
my dear father,
that these currents are not
devilishly strong

so I may fall on her lap
and rest in her kiss
and find comfort in her hand
and peace in her smile
and tomorrow in her breath
and today in her laugh. Else,

I am doomed in my fall.
That in hindsight
it be deemed a crash.

Please,
father.
Please

Silence

Silence walks gently into your peripheral.
Silence lays one hand on your waist.
Silence waltz you into a dance.
Silence is the company you desire.
Silence stares blankly into you.
Silence fills you with a kiss
a spin, a spin, a waltz.
Silence is charming … today.
Silence is attractive … today.
Silence rests tenderly, like hypothetical feather,
in your heaven facing palm.
Silence is gentle today. Like hypothetical feathers.
Silence sits you down on the side of the party.
Silence points the drowning moon to you.
Silence slows the procession of the stars.
Silence sways your foot as they dangle over the ledge.
Silence rests a warm palm on yours as they grip the edge and prop up your shoulders.
Silence, like the timely spin of perfectly synchronized swimmers,
sights with you.
Silence sings a fist full of night breeze through your happy hair.
Silence leans out, still holding your hand, and with a finger
swirls the stars into a dance.
Silence rests its hands over your other shoulder.
Silence pulls you into silence. A side embrace in silence.
Silence walks beside your even breath
and within your shut eyes.
Silence whispers you to sleep.
Silence rolls the covers over you.
Silence sets you to slumber in the cuddle of silence.
Silence breaths calm into your being.
Silence sings you to sleep … in silence.
Silence holds you in sleep.
Silence turns off the day.

Till tomorrow

Let’s stall our tears
till the rise of the morning.
and feast on the blue chuckles
that have found camp in our
bellies.

A broken hearts rattle louder
than a massive hollow ball of steel.
Feel the reverberation thunder
up from our darkened
blood filled pool.

We will laugh
till our reservoirs run dry.
And then welcome, in the morning,
along with the beautiful warmth
that caresses our maroon stained
patented jackets, these tears
that life, from our wrung soul,
has liberated.

“Wash me into a pool of my despair”,
I will say to life, tomorrow and daytime.
“I am yours for the keep now”.

Buoyancy

Sometimes, jokes
aren’t buoyant enough
to lift the rubbles of crumbled
smiles tethered to laid out
heart pieces, nailed into
pulse, by trembling
eyes.

It is a surprise
these nails did not sink through
un-composed jingling fingers, sealing
the hands that worked
through red stained hailstorms
and flooded streets to
surge this heart
to beat.

These pieces meander
through the pool that covers
our streets. They taste much
like tears, smell much like
blood, and look much
like heartbreak.

Rainy fall

Spread your arms
my nappy haired
crying boy.
There is a fall to be
enjoyed.

These tears will,
un momento,
fall back to earth as rain.
on you, theirs, our
heads.

Aim

I’m angling
for your heart
while camped at your toes
with my flames towering high
till they tickle the underbelly of heaven.

~giggle~

Soot and teeth

How we search
for happiness in the rubbles of despair
maybe a bid to distract ourselves
from the soot that gracefully
camps on our face.

These teeth glow in the contrast
of who I now am.

“My dear son”, I mutter to the wind,
“There is no harm in climbing high walls.
Beyond them, sometimes,
lie forests, with trees as tall as our gods
and rivers as long as the hairs on our angels.
The birds beyond these walls sing in a language called beautiful
and their breath is the string on which life is balanced.
I do not judge you for climbing this high wall.
with slippery shoes, weak limbs,
and a desire for dimples.
But you will fall like me.
And hurt your back.
and your hip.
and your arm.
and your heart.
and your other arm.
And the rumbling wall will look down at you
And bathe you in its laughter. One that chars the trees around you.
Here is the birth of the soot. Lie in it till your teeth glow”.

Do these teeth glow in the contrast
of who you are now?

“Climb again I must say.
This time, with an aching back
and an aching hip
and an aching arm
and a heart
and another aching arm”.