Steam (Human Machines)

I am not a machine…

I cry, breathe, love… bleed…

Worked to the bone… see me breakdown…

In need of a mechanic and a surgeon because my parts no longer wish to work… and my heart murmurs what was once a strong thump…

I question my existence…

Only to listen to the silence that falls upon me that leaves me without an answer to my inquiry…

My thoughts and I wait alone… and the weight of being alone weighs more than one can stand… the pressure builds up… I break down…

But am far from broken… I just need a release…

I am only human…

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Mortality (Love)

If you were beast…

I would humbly lay down and accept my mortality as you tear away at my flesh…

Shed not a single tear of pain, but many of joy knowing that my blood nourishes your vitality as I course throughout your veins…

And at the right moment…

I will die as the bite that sinks into my heart that releases my soul…

But alas, you are neither animal nor beast… but human that has awakened me…

Teaching my passion fire… a guide of my love eternal and keeper of my innermost desires…

You needn’t be an untamed creature…

Stripping my skin, inflicting wounds and finally breaking my ribcage to have my heart,

For I gladly give it to you…

Accepting my mortality to live inside of your love…

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What to say… (Onomatopoeia)

What am I to say…

Rendered speechless, though I draw from every word from my vocabulary… the scribblings in my mind go from complete thoughts to complete gibberish…

Left with the gum like density of licorice at my lips…

They stick together and refuse to part… not that I wish not to part with the words, for if I am speaking them to you they are mine to give and they no longer belong to me as they are properties of you…

Yet it is the very properties of you… which bring about silence… are the simplest things that most ignore for they see you and can only say easily, the many wondrous things run skin deep, for that is as far as they are willing to travel and are trying to get there in a hurry…

… but I know time is only a factor when you are afraid of losing it… so I will take my time…. and if along my way to touch your soul, my words become lost… be mindful that I am not…

For it is upon you that my eyes fall to see reasons to pick myself up and continue on…

Absent of a single word to flatter, parched from the long journey and ready to tell you that at the very sight of you…

GASP!!!

What am I to say…

 

The Unspoken Word

Be the life of the party…

Or be the center of my universe and I will be the man who places his hand on the small of your back…

Giving reason to excuse yourself from being the center of attention as I whisper in your ear how beautiful you are when you’re being yourself as I walk away…

You don’t quite hear me, so you follow me outside and find me staring upward…

No one is outside but the two of us…

You join me and ask what I said but not a single word falls from my lips, I only pull you closer and let my hand find its way back to the small of your back…

There is not much to see in a night sky with the glare of street lights fighting nature, but every so often you can find one star that makes it all worth while…

And when you do, the rest of the world seems to fade away…

If only for a moment we float in the night air, that is the moment in which I will repeat what I said…

You’ll smile, make every star jealous and the entire world will go black…

We share a kiss… … … …

The feeling exchanged is a word that need not be spoken…

Writer’s Block

Waiting for words to find me… I sit still, allowing my thoughts to race…

Competing for the ultimate prize of “the point of inspiration”… but my carefree mind wanders, switching worlds randomly so the paths of words to the motioning of  my wrists to which I write them is indirect…

Yet I compose myself by whispering compose yourself and then reply with notes that are the pieces of the chords struck within me…

What falls to the page and to the screen sometimes even shocks me…

And I am shown often what I did not even know about myself that is imbedded in my soul whenever I give back to my soul instead of constantly asking of it…

Supple (Midnights In Song)

Like the final notes at the end of a piano solo…

The sun sets and ends the day, leaving behind a burning ember against my iris…

Breathtaking…

In an attempt to capture the sight using sound in order to press song into the night and evoke the light of day, I set a record to play because I can’t play like Cole Porter…

And with my hands not busy I am free to hold your attention…

A suspension in time in a dimension designed in the willing to be formed by the air that is absent between us and shared breaths that syncopate…

Dying in the night…

Bridging moments in the darkness until morning…

Breathe deep and exhale…

Feel within you… that your heart is always yours and what you see may steal it…

But what you feel is undeniable…

End of Day (Sarah Vaughan)

She sings in my heart…

A song that I love, backed by a jazz band…

In 3/4 time her voice syncopates in the spaces of silence of my heart palpitations…

I relax…

Free from the labor of having to use my imagination… for she’s painting images with her words… not mine…

But I cannot help my mind wanting to unwind the twine packaged box of my favorite things…

Who needs a drink when her voice of mid tones and falsettos are remnant of the sweetest of sparkling Italian wines…

I’ve dropped my coat on the floor, keys are still in the door…

I just got home… But she’s taking me even even further…

Sing it Sarah…

Her Heart (The Labyrinth)

Pattens and pathways lay into geometric shapes that force thinking outside of the box…

… to figure out ways into your soul’s fortress… bricked and mortared for protection…

I wish for wings of a bird so that I may view your complexed structure from above and see it’s center… but am fated to walk about the the composition of corridors decorated in life experiences… that lead me to your minotaur heart…

She’s been hurt before… and this is but her guardian… I whisper to myself and look around to see:

The ground that bare holes from those who burrowed their ways away when met with the challenge to defeat the beast… and that on the beast there are scars from those that tried to fight there way past it…

but were slain in the process…

I can hear the echoes of the battles in her speech…

And know that no one has ever tried to make a friend of this guardian… who was never trying to fight in the first place…

One look into your eyes revealed this labyrinth and in only a fraction of a second…

I figured that I did not have to fight to make you smile…

Hush (You See Nothing…)

What is this hush and its layered textures?

Humbling sounds of walking alone folding unto themselves to reveal the deepest need to understand… and with not a moments rest, we continue on…

Journeys through what seems like endless days and eternal nights with no knowledge of when all of this began nor possess the image of when it will come to an end…

In the between we can see:

The times smiles graced our faces and those when we cried where the tears tanned our cheeks…

Moments when he had the courage to love and those where are broken hearts built walls around themselves so not to be hurt once more…

Which lead to the most intimate junctures of solitude… and those gnashing feelings of guilt for wanting to be alone, but not without those feelings of wanting to be…

We see the past and make it present and give these gifts to ourselves…

Yet we cannot see everything… our gifts are imperfect…

But if you are reading this, then you can see… which means you can breathe… which means you are alive…

That hushed silence… is the calming of the soul…

When you have no answers but peace has become you… your mind is drawn blank, but your heart is full…

Be faithful that you are being watched every step of your way…