Category Archives: connection

Surrender

Posted on by under chicago, connection, heart, life, love, memories, poems, Poetry, writings

Time has passed and looking around… there is no physical trace of your presence.

Where the time has gone I often search for… tearing up every corner of my mind as if I have lost it…

Time…

Only it was never lost but willfully handed over because I spent it with you and it was worth it…

And now you are gone… neither I or you are in the same place any longer and the longer I sit and think of you, this place screams your name…

Yet it is only silence that echoes and that alone causes me to fight back tears…

And I miss you…

Yet I wouldn’t change the moment that I met you, so that this would never come to be…

Where I am… I have to question because no matter where I am, in truth I am hiding away in my heart looking out onto a world without you… Not having to even think of where you are because your memory is here with me…

And here I am… Just now listening to everything that you have ever said in the past… Speechless to respond because I should have listened then… And now you are too far away to hear me…

There is not a physical trace of you, but your essence is…

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Posted on by under chicago, connection, heart, love, poems, Poetry

Blush and let me place a curse upon your lips that you may not speak what caused your skin to flush the color of bruised roses…

So that every time anyone sets eyes upon you they instantly see that you are in love and jealousy becomes of them… not to want you, but to desire to be the person who you are in connection with even when away…

So that when you gaze into your reflection all you see is your soul igniting over and over again for this man that did this to you… That will always do this to you….

The man that does not seek to be seen by you, but to reveal your love and revel in its ambrosia nectars…. Siphoning it into himself and expelling his love into you… It’s infinite cycle… He can’t hold onto his love and so he gives it to you and you in return gift your to him…

(NP1315)

Sideways (Dreamer)

Posted on by under chicago, connection, dreams, heart, love, Poetry, time, traveling

I’ve been places, but don’t always necessarily understand the significance of all that surrounds upon arrival… and I’ve seen so many things….

Things that I long to return to see knowing that time is on my side but not always mine to give, but given to me at moments when my eyes are closed and what I wish to be before me is often clouded in darkness… even more so , I am alone…

It is during the presentation of this gift that leads me to wonder where you are in all of this… that I can wander such an expansive description of your very being just hoping to find you from uncharted moments in my life that crafted my heart so you’d be comfortable there…

The journey seems endless yet never useless… my feet and body do not fatigue because my spirit is compelled to see your face… and if failed to do so by the nights end, know that I drag my feet on purpose to leave you a map to find me in case you are doing the same…

Looking for me in a world only known to you, hoping for the day that the absence of you in a dream is crushed by the reality of you being only a foot away when I wake…

DaliVaro (Surreal)

Posted on by under chicago, connection, poems, Poetry, writings

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.

 

 

 

 

 

Supple (Midnights In Song)

Posted on by under breathe, chicago, connection, heart, intimacy, Jazz, love, music, poems, Poetry, supple

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…

Her Heart (The Labyrinth)

Posted on by under connection, heart, labyrinth, love, myth, mythology, poems, Poetry, smile

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…

Say Nothing (Say Everything)

Posted on by under chicago, connection, good morning, heart, love, poems, Poetry, silence, writings

Through yonder window breaks a mixture of moonbeams and streetlight…

The chill in the evening air freezes my thoughts and I am uncertain of what to say…

Yet no obstacles exist t hat would hinder me from reaching across the sofa with my gaze to touch you before my hands reach out and do the same…

Still I sit looking at you locked in perpetual exchange of unspoken emotion… and haven’t the faintest clue what you are not saying, but it means the world to me all the same…

Roaring silence of not saying the right thing…  broken by opening the of hearts and speaking the words they conduct…

For they always seem to know exactly what they want, need… desire and are unafraid to say so…

Speak low…

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Posted on by under chicago, connection, love, poems, Poetry, writings

Intimate moments of silence sit between whispers of the soul when the body is at rest… when we close our eyes and try to clear our minds…think about the day, only to lose our presence in the night…

The opportunity to catch fireflies and moonbeams… open your eyes and be my lover and I your dreamer…

A connection far from illusion… reaching out without a frog singing a song… but if there were we’d both look and become lost in the sweet dissonance of twangs and a river running beneath us…

How sweet life is when you taste it… search for a succulent to prick yourself awake hoping that the succulence of your experience never leaves your lips… that it never leaves your life… I could lose myself in the way you see me…

Serene (You Are Loved)

Posted on by under chicago, connection, faith, joy, life, love, mother, poems, Poetry, writings

hrtz

There are times to be remembered… that when your soul compels you to be present and most important of all… to become lost and alone with them…

Each moment that you were present… is where if anyone should be looking for you, it is there that they will find you…

Neither lost nor exactly alone…

Perhaps during a difficult time, where you are sitting across from your mother… you have no clue as to what to do, but something within her says that she should utter just how much you are loved…

It is only a memory, but in times of need you can remember it and practically not only hear but see the words cross over her lips and sink into your soul… calming your heart…

If one were to listen closely… they could hear your heartbeat and find you… they may travel a distance and possibly have been for some time… there may be debris of hurt and regrets, but be assured he will come…

And he will see you…

Looking into eyes much like your own… knowing that nothing short of the absence of life itself can cause you to part… you both shed years when you met… your heart was calm and something that your mother said to you, seems all that more familiar… she said it before times were rough…

You… living for much more than yourself, wondering if you can be seen in this place…

But when is it, that you haven’t been seen? Or better yet not heard?

No call for panic… steady yourself…

For even though clouds form and it begins to rain… the downpour of sadness from without you that strike the ground with its pitter patter pattern attempting to mask the beating of your heart… will not compare to the mirth that can flood your soul…

True your heart may have been beaten… but still it beats and rest assured it is heard… you are still here and the message of love sent to you came way before the first moment you cried out…

Now you listen to your heartbeat…

This is how you know… no matter what… you are always loved…

This is your moment to remember…

This is your peace…

(4LC)