Watercolors (The Artist)

My subject… allow me to subtract the world around you, so all that remains is a portrait of you…

Background noise of various memories that must be no more, yet they are everything and so much more… but fail to remain underwater…

Once washed over with every thought of you and basking in the rain are now but tears that fall onto a page, where I attempt to paint the best but the color refuses remain…

Faded away… not even the black and white are present… the imagery is all gone…

All that is left is you, which can not be removed because I didn’t create you…

And with my hands covering my face, I wonder if it would have been wiser to just give you my heart and not my mind… for my heart will heal, but I am but an artist and you will never leave my thoughts…

Departures (Blackbirds)

This comfortable place where I sit perched… is not my home… and feels all too familiar.

The warmth of the thoughts we share…

Are only what they are… thoughts… and not things that we actually have.

Still we covet them as our own, without regard to the other’s rights to hold onto them… We are thieves of the night…

And as time keeps ticking…  the night is bound to end and I have a long way to travel before daybreak… yet I cannot help but continue to sing song, knowing that you know why caged birds sing…

Songs of being hypnotized without exchanging a single glance, of intoxication minus wine and glass, of passion without so much as a touch of the lips…

We packed light to come so far and have the weight of years on our souls… that when we attempt to fly away, we only make it so far because we break our wings…

And it breaks my heart…

That I can still see you from the short distance traveled, so I come back knowing that when my wings heal once again…

I will have to fly away to the same distance I was before…

Before they break again…

Just before the light of day…

And throughout the day I will endure thoughts of you… How beautiful you are even when you’re broken… and as much as it pains me to say it… come the next night I will walk away to a safe distance and from there fly away…

Leaving the night deafened and still…

 

 

 

 

 

Carillons à Musique (Silence)

The world rages on… though you needn’t fear…

Hush…

What I hear shall not fall upon you… but the lullaby of my heart beating will resonate to yours… providing the only reason you will ever find tears, that do not come from pain…

Speak not…

For there is not a single word that need pass between us, while my arms hold you close that could even begin to describe what I wish for you to know…

Feel…

The water from my eyes that are extracted from the very center of my unselfishness (… you are so beautiful…) and let them wash you over, but never away….

I am yours… you are mine…

Forever I will love you…

 

 

DaliVaro (Surreal)

Choose to remember or try desperately to forget…

In between those two acts of living… I sleep, breathing in silence and exhaling my days… what is this persistence of memory? Dream a dream and by the light of morning the images will melt away, no matter the effort we attempt to grasp them…

They never happened or existed…

Try as I might to place myself in that time… only results in fanfares of distorted and often dim images of fantastic landscapes in warm colors…… and I am missing… because I was never there in the first place… just old photographs underwater beneath a bridge that stands between there… and my waking moments…

The breath of being apart from there brushes against the skin…

It whispers that fantasy is not far from reality…

To be a part of the night, not apart from it… while others are sleeping… exist with no exits… letting the soul dance to the Claire De Lune, become drunk on the intoxicating exchange of speech and let spirits free you from inhibitions…

That you have painted the town red many of times before, that on this night the color to remember will have nothing to do with the town nor the sounds of the streets… but from connection…

Be there with her… look into her eyes… realize that it is all happening… forget what you know…  let your imagination run wild… and should she ever ask what you remember about the night we met…

Boldly whisper… I will always remember you… it was a dream I shall not easily forget.

 

 

 

 

 

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…

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…

(4cm1313)

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…