Untitled #11

the reward for the endurance of your beating heart will come to a stand before you

Impulse will compel you to turn around to face all that has occurred in the past… yet the fear of it all coming back to haunt you grasps every nerve ending of the body and petrifies every limb

      Thoughts of each and every near death experience in which you lived to tell the tales of your broken heart, gently closes the eyes as you begin to paint over them utilizing the darkness of those moments left within

Standing in darkness is youAnd inside of you is the urge to open your eyesTo see who is touching your heart that is no longer broken.

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Might I look upon your eyes and treat them as precious night sky filled with stars …and look beyond them allowing my breath to be taken… I pray that my heart will not cease to continue beating in the absence of oxygen while in the presence of you… a pure moment of innocent curiosity… wanting nothing more than nothing less than everything you have kept secret locked behind the sky lit pupils of which I am a student apt to learn how to whisper into them with my own eyes… for the language I use may be inadequate to tell you just how much beyond my wildest imagination that I have fallen in love with you…

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My eyes fall on you, but never away… What doesn’t come through your lips is written all over your face and is meant for my eyes only… In the space where most need to speak to fill in the blanks, you look at me and your silence breaks the quiet… Your eyes, smile and the glow of your skin are the components of your poetry to me… and in one word I could summarize the fact that my heart only belongs to me because I was born with it, yet it is my pleasure to give it to you…

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Time will pass…

Mere seconds into days that are to eventually become the years that go by into a destination unknown… during which I have become an admirer of you…

There is an art to you… that I have observed and chosen to keep inside of my heart.

For if memory serves me correctly… over time memories fade and should my mind decide to do so… should I only be able to keep one thought… it would be to remember to look into my heart and see you…

Not that my eyes will fail to see the woman before me… but in time… in your presence, I will have been granted the ability to see deeper into the source of what makes you so unique. The gift of being able to view the galaxy within you from the molded sand and clay used to form you…

Beautiful from the very moment of your creation… so there was no mistake that it is meant to be everlasting to the one that loves the sight of you.

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Behind me yet at the forefront of my waking thoughts, there you are… And to think… there was a time when I searched for you…

A time when it seemed impossible to forget you… having to remind myself to forget you and not recall a single thing about you because there would be no answer…

You couldn’t be because you were never there in the first place… A body more beautiful than one could imagine... merely a figment of my emotions wanting for you to exist…

I stared into eyes that never looked back, while other eyes fell upon me only to see me looking into the distance, but at no one and at nothing…

all blind to the truth that I was waiting…

… and now you stand before me…

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What I could say that would capture your heart never need pass in thought nor over my lips… For what good would it do behold a heart that does not see the light of day, for caged birds do not sing…

… and I have waited patiently to hear your song… Though I must confess that despite the fact that my ears had not heard a single note, my soul would tune in… listening closely when you were near… Wondering the color of your love…?

And what I would do should that pigment ever stain my fingers…

If allowed to take my hands, submerge them into you and with your essence at my fingertips… compose the world of your dreams right before your eyes… using nothing but your primary colors provided…

… Your reds of anger, frustration and love…

… Yellows of your happiness and laughter…

… Blues of your tranquility and also sadness…

Three colors and a world of possibilities all contained in one heart…

So how dare I to ever try and detain one that beats in melodies that make my soul waltz in thoughts of your color pouring into me slowly like finger-paints yet fluid as watercolors… yet I would never want to draw a single tear… diluting the intensity of your world…

… I am your painter… and the canvas upon which I paint your dreams will be my own beating heart…

A Story of Things Past…

Every day Jonathan greeted the bus driver with a smile and a nearly inaudible good morning as he stepped into the doorway. He caught the bus just two stations away from the beginning of the line so it was always pretty vacant, except for a little girl who’s recently been sitting sat at the very back of the bus everyday. ‘Most likely a latch key kid’ Jonathan would often think to himself and then go about his routine of walking to the middle of the bus dusting off a seat, sitting down and then slowly sip his coffee as he gazed out the window at the world going by. This morning however had something different in store for the mild mannered soft spoken gentleman for shortly after he sat down and had his first taste of coffee, the driver ran over a deep pot hole that rumbled the bus with the force of a contained earthquake that caused Jonathan to grip the cup tightly popping the lid and spilling all over himself.

“Sorry” said the bus driver as he recovered from the rumble himself as he pulled up to the next bus stop. Jonathan stood up brushed himself off and quickly found another seat not covered in coffee at the back of the bus as other patrons boarded. His new seat was not positioned to where he could easily look out of the window, but instead it was facing the little girl that was on the bus before him.

Not being one for odd interactions Jonathan attempted to gaze out of the window behind him but found it awkward twisting his body and angling his neck without strain. So he took a deep breath, repositioned and looked straight ahead in the direction of the little girl which as if by a gentle force caused him to look directly at her.

She wore pink rain boots with a raincoat to match, her hair was black; pulled into a ponytail and her eyes were a deep brown that of an old oak tree. Around her neck she wore a brass pendant in the shape of trumpet that looked an awful lot like the one he bought his wife that had passed away some months ago after a battle with cancer. He bought it to remind her of the night they met at a jazz club after he performed “There is no Greater Love” by Miles Davis. She loved to hear Jonathan play, in fact that night is why she fell in love with him but during her struggle with the sickness he hardly found the strength to do so and following her death not at all.

Lost in this haze of thought Jonathan hadn’t taken notice that his stop had come and that already off the bus. He crossed the street then turned to look back at the bus to see if he could still see the little girl, but she had vanished. In the window however read the word “Play”.

He carried her memory.

Darkness (an ode to you being away)

My closing eyes…

Remove me from the light outside… and as the darkness cradles me, give way for my whispers to romance my memories with images of you during your absence…

The vividness almost real enough to touch, though my hands do not reach out to grasp and instead find their way to my chest… Establishing a connection to my heart because that is where you are…

Such an intimate moment has no words, yet I wish you were near to see me try to form speech… But if you were my telling of how I miss you might not be as sweet… And the delicacy of you repeating those words may not sugar your lips that I will savor once in your presence…

So for now dreams will have to do… In the darkness… And I will wait for the day where my eyes fall upon you…

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I’m not a time traveler
All things in the past are exactly where they were left…

Each having a unique thumb print on my life… I can feel their touch and remember them vividly as if they happened yesterday… 

Even though with some years have gone by, with closed eyes in the darkness I am there… If only but for a moment, I am there…

In a sea of memories that I would never trade, for in swimming their past my currents became stronger… They made me…

Here I now stand… Not bound by them but free of them… placing my hands into the future because I’ve already traveled my past and this waves are behind me.

Surrender

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…