If Words Were Enough

Curl

I thought of you…

it happens often

the way your lips curl

around a word

I wonder if you’ve ever done that with my name

and I wonder if you’ve ever thought

about doing that

with my lips

This is the World, and These Are My Shoulders - 4/26/12

Sometimes I find the figure of my form

comprimised

by things weighing heavily on my shoulders

and I wonder

have you ever felt this too?

I like to think not.

Because the cure alone to misery

is glory

That I, and I alone am capable to withstand such a weight

and that gives me power

for once I am the elitist

but then I hope so

because I’d hate to think

that there is even a way

your soul does not understand my own

This Is a Thank You - 4/26/12

I should thank you someday

because you’ve managed to save me in ways

you don’t even know

it’s cliche of course,

to say such a thing.

But what else accounts

for the way you’ve pieced together

such a grand tapestry

of someone so unravelled

I should thank you

but how do you thank someone

who doesn’t even,

can never fathom

what they have done

without falling apart at the grand staircase of their feet

and the balustrade of their shadow

all over again.

I’ll always just be shards of glass in your hands.

A Small Observation - 4/26/12

I find myself defeated by the architecture

of your hands.

They are useful in so many practices,

mainly tracing the lines of invisible objects.

I know only you see these things

but sometimes I like to think

that some days.

in some hours.

i see them too.

You Are A Chandelier - 4/26/12

You are a chandelier,

what a funny thing

to call something so alive nothing

more than a vehicle of light

but it’s true

it’s true and you can see it

in the way that I look at your fixtures

and see myself

in dazzling light and

crystal glazed haze

that’s all so much more interesting

than the dull iron I really am

you are the keeper of light

and the architect of beauty

constructing a grand empire

of my tiny town

and I think I’d be content

just to spend my day

sitting on the floor

finding my happiness

in the way you offer light

to unfamiliar places

A Resignation of Thought - 4/26/12

You’re resigned in the way you speak

as if you’ve given up

on the world to give you happiness

And in feeling you find a sense of freedom

Not to count on the set of the clouds and the rise of the stars

to afford you a smile

like an aristocrat affords a lonely vagabond a penny

(but only if he’ll dance for it)

In that freedom you’ve found another

kind of delight

You’ve cheated, so masterfully, this thing called fate

You’ve done it in such a way that the poor soul won’t find out

until you’re too far into the “great perhaps”

to toy with you into oblivion

She’ll spend her many eternities

wondering how a man of so little could seduce such skillful hands

to his own manipulation

Even that thought brings a smile.

and once again you’ve cheated her.

THE NET - 4/13/12

I have an idea

I’ll make a net

And instead of casting it out to sea

To ensnare the fishes

Perhaps I’ll cast it across your sheets

And reel you into me

In a dream

Maybe then you’ll know

That feeling of being trapped

Without ever leaving your bed