Enumerate

Must time mock me?

Promising to heal my wounds by taking forever to pass…

A prisoner of my own thoughts, free to leave them behind if they were not of you and so treasured…

All of the little things done…

That were only you being yourself… I counted them one by one, placing them into my heart as if they were meant just for

me…

Unaware that each keepsake would forsake me and become the seconds counted down to the destruction of what love

we shared… In a space given that only had so much room, we broke laws of physics… we made love and experienced

its infinite possibilities…

Where does the time go?

How long will it take to remove each moment spent with you, without removing myself in the process?

I didn’t count on this…

Because I counted on you…

And if I were to list the ways in which I did, I would surely pass before I would be able to finish…

Because I loved you…

Epidemic (Listen before leaving)

She whispers only to herself…

Inside her mind she queries her soul and to a fly on the wall nothing is heard…

There is only being able to witness the moments she dies a little and watch tears roll down her face… Completely incapable to hold her close, allowing a heartbeat alone to tell her cry out loud…

No one answers, so she feels that no one listens… and her pain becomes weight to bare…

Can’t fly away, for I’d plummet into the earth, cursed as a man with a heavy heart forced to walk amongst the sea of many with a broken heart… and now mine is too.

Sweetening Tea

It is a funny thing trying to let go of something as sweet and sticky as honey…

At first you want to rid your fingers free of it but rather than rinsing them you bring each appendage to your lips…

Extending your tongue and tasting the mellifluous liquid… becoming lost in its ability to surrender your motion…

giving you moments to think, to remember… to enjoy your now is a present, remembering your presents is a gift…

Be the flower to the bumble bee.

Victorious (No Reflection)

How many days have I gone around the sun?

Waking to a light that vanquishes the darkness so that I may see… one that tans my skin and warms my soul… letting me know that I am indeed alive… and in that I may breathe a sigh of relief knowing that for another day, I have conquered death…

Yet I cannot help but question why the days are so long and my time so limited… My toils leaving me with just enough left to sit down and think…

How far have I come? Should I choose to sleep, how long have I been gone? Where have I traveled only to be called back, staring life in the face just by looking into a mirror and witness the scars that no one else can see…

Questions I whisper so loudly that if there were a soul stirring, they come to stand still and remain silent… So that the only voice I can hear is my own, but the one that I feel erupts from the depths of where every answer to any question that I may have is written…

Looking behind me that I may see that past… and I am told, that all that has been left behind no longer has the strength in its hands to hold me down, but is now the rubble upon I have climbed to be in the present… a place where the mirror is no longer required for I know how I look and can see myself without it…

I will then walk to the window of my home and look out unto the world where I will see myself down the road… I will wave hello and extend my hand as to say please join me…

Where I will go is my future… one completely unpredicted but one that I believe in none the less… I can feel the smile on my face and the peace in my heart… another day has come to past and the spoils of war are mine…

Hear my battle cry… for I have won…

(LC14185)

 

The Book

Where was I when you found me?

Did I call out to your sense of inner desire to see… what am I to you?

If but a collection of thoughts, memories and dreams… I must ask… did you read them merely see them… though the words could only come from my lips…

Did you read between the lines of the sentences spoken to take in what I was saying to you… to see and observe not only that there was information being communicated but also that it was being shared… did you touch me or hold me… did I captivate you… I want to speak but my conviction to simply stare at you is so complex that speech is not necessary… you will see what I wish to know… what wish to say in my eyes…

how does that feel… are you touched… Will you remember me, or will I be forgotten… or forbidden… the very memory of me has no essence unless rooted to a part of you…

what am I… flip through my moments… share them back with me… refer to me in old age… for I am but an open book… with space for notes… and pages to begin new chapters.

The Photographer (The Darkroom)

The conversation will end and every glance that could be sent across a table has been received, enjoyed and returned…

Smiles and laughter will linger in the air, haunting as if a memory begging to be held on to for fear of passing over to moments forgotten…

Take a picture and it is said that it will last longer…

But if that is the fate of becoming immortalized then let the photograph to be, not become… for I will only accept the passing of time, to take you from me… and I refuse to limit myself to but a thousand words when it comes to you…

Though it is extremely challenging to say anything more than you are so beautiful… Over time I will say it in so many ways, surpassing the thousands of words that most would stop because they figured enough has been said… Because they look at you and not in you…

I see you…

Knowing that all the pictures in the world could not possibly capture you… that they may perish in a fire, smear from being handled, damage from water… and fade from time…

That the actual you… will inspire a burning love… beckon to be held… may cry every now and again… and in time leave this world…

The day I met you, my soul took a picture of you and developed it in my heart…

 

(NNE14)

Devious (Thou Art a Villain)

Of what is beautiful…

Is that of which you have taken for yourself to draw from… only to return said things in ways that drive straight into my heart… and I am drawn to you, but you are withdrawn…

Was it that you captured me or my likeness?

So skilled in being able to produce portraits, displaying them to the world… but I beg you to examine your own works more closely to see if I was indeed sitting still… waiting for you to finish, impatiently pleading to see how you truly see me…

If you’ve ever seen me at all…

Close your eyes and think… let the absence of of my presence sink in and probe the darkness for my image…

Can you see me? Or shadows of might have been…?

Realize that in the time I gave to you… I was waiting for the perfect moment to give you my heart…

You thought you it was yours to take… But it has always been mine to keep…

 

 

 

 

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…