Peaches

Today... I knew you needed them,

Was going to bring them to you,

But… wanted you to come and ask,

For that is one of my favorite things,

Not for you to ask; for you to say "peaches",

For you are peaches,

A beautiful thing,

Sweet and fresh,

With a fragrant scent,

Luscious and juicy,

Only a minutely firm exterior,

With a heart of liquid gold,

And one day I hope to,

Bite into your soft fuzzy,

To feel you ooze,

between my remaining teeth,

and to taste,

that which,

only heaven can make.

And deep inside you,

In that pit,

Lays a seed,

Waiting to crack though,

The tough nut,

The place your she resides,

Compressed against you,

And I know that one day,

That husk of fleshy fruit,

Will melt into the ground,

Providing the perfect bed,

And moist growth,

Will over take that seed,

And it will crack that pit.

And you know,

That a tree will be born,

One that bears fruit,

One that knows how hard it is,

To live inside that husk,

And more so, how hard it is to crack through,

Into a new life,

Originally written in late June 2010.

I spend days building the ways I will make,

Make, these things for you, for you to love,

It’s my way of showing you that I do so,

In bits of honey, turned to caramel,

In meal sized foods made to be,

A lunch for you…

And I want to write your name on the bag,

And fear that someone will see,

See me, placing it for you,

So… well… I don’t,

Fuck, you don’t know…

Or if you do, you can’t,

Let that go.

And this builds frustration me in,

Knowing that you can be…

Everything to me,

Little bits of caramelized pieces,

Crusted into the everyday life of us,

Which can be what we need it to be,

In those little bits,

And here we are,

Out in the far patches of longing winds,

Embracing the trees above,

Wishing that we could be,

Alone, against the other,

Blazing like the clouds at sunrise,

Open and aware of the coming day,

And the coming day, in reality,

Leaves me here in the dark,

And you, living your everyday.

The Christmas Present

Laying in wait… I was, for this time,

Hoping; so hoping, to hear your voice,

That voice, I missed so very much,

These days,

Low and behold… thus it was time,

And across the waves, I heard you,

That voice, I missed so very much,

Today,

And again, it was here, you were there,

Across the waves and into me,

Flowing like the waves that travelled through days,

Always,

I break poetic structure, to say,

That you are ever in my thoughts,

You,

Your fine perfection that speaks to me,

In so many ways,

And, I am likely to ramble,

For I have not been able to,

Until tonight... with you, across the waves,

And your voice told me,

What your words could not,

That you are still with me,

Oceans apart, yet as close as footsteps,

My mind afire in fantasy and reality,

Thinking… remembering the ways,

We flowed together,

In waves and passion,

And… again with the And…

In passion we rocked it out,

We found things not seen in ourselves,

Found in the clarity of the other,

And… wow… I am still yours,

Even if you can’t be mine,

Like the waves are upon the ocean,

Shifting with the pull of currents,

I see you… in my minds eye,

Daily…

As part of my way of getting through,

On to the next day, another day without you,

And I never get to tell you,

That I love you, and how much I,

Want you by my side,

Forever,

And… In poetry, I have a way,

Of saying the things I mean to say,

In the everyday,

And so, for you, this work is made,

Made to show you, that this man,

Waves every time he drives by,

His heart waking in memory,

Of your soft kisses,

And Christ… fuckin Christ,

Those kisses and caresses,

Change me in an instant,

Back to the first moment I tasted your lips,

Smelled your beauty upon my clothes,

And how I still imagine you in the shower,

Dripping against me in the heat and cold,

Holding tight in that wetness,

See… I told you I’d ramble…

And yet, in the ramble,

There are so many moments missing,

Missing… Like I am to you,

And I could go on and on in metaphor and simile,

Telling you how important you are to me,

Things as obvious as,

How the trees miss the spring,

Or how the trapped fish miss the tide,

And how the Lilies love the mire,

Like the wind misses the leaves,

Howling as do the lost souls,

Blowing through the tall grasses,

Singing their praise to those who listen,

But really... and mostly,

I just miss you,

You… in the finite times we’ve had,

On the shores of flowing waters,

And the screeching of hunting owls,

And the beaver tail slaps,

And the scurry of a skunk’s feet,

And the call of the lonely crow,

And the fire that is in us,

Is burning on,

Morning

This morning in the freezing cold,



I stood on that vista, high above the traffic,


And rousing souls,


And wondered how many of them were looking at the beauty,


That was right in front of me






And with frozen hands I shutter clicked,


Upon that plateau, high above this icy city.


My soul was roused,


In my thinking that you were indeed witnessing the same beauty,


That was right there in front of us






And my heart was frozen in the thought,


Up there, as the sun placed her rays on my face,


My sinking soul,


Thinking about a decision made without thought,


That takes you further from me






And then, I saw you reflected in her light,


Glowing over the frozen plains, above the traffic,


My rising soul,


Thinking about you, of what you mean to me,


I found hope, in what is before us






And with each image captured on filament,


Instantly crystallizing like the air around me,


I saw you,


And hope that you know, this beauty was made,


From my glowing heart, for yours










And I want you to know,


That indeed, the best part of my day,


The one thing I looked forward to,


Was to see your face,


Walking up to me,


Beaming as you often did,


Warming my frozen heart,


Making me see beauty in everything

The Number

I wonder when those digits,

Now engrained in a place,

That makes you think of me,

Those finger touches,

Learned in the muscles,

May fade from you,

I see that name on the screen,

And I see the way you see,

And why things are this way,

And all I can think about,

Is that moment,

In that place,

The crowd swaying,

Crooning,

To our love,

Then and there,

The most,

The best,

And here…

I wonder how I will,

Find something to place,

Where you were,

And I wonder how soon,

Those numbers will fade,

From your finger touches,

And it must be like this,

Tragic and foreseen,

In love and life,

And all I can think about,

Is the way you look,

In those places,

The grasses swaying,

Watching,

Our love,

In my eyes,

And there,

The perfect,

And beautiful,

Shall rest,

In memory and love,


and honesty.

Underbrush

I found her deep under the tall grasses,



Hiding in the shade of the birch bark beauties,


And the supple wetness of the rot and decay,


With Tangled roots holding the ground around her,


Together,






Together,






I am afraid to transplant her into my soil,


For in my life the bright light of day,


And those same birch bark beauties,


Can be quite dry and overwhelming,


Altogether,






Altogether,






And never would I allow harm to find her,


Carefully made umbrellas and tall grasses planted,


And those birch bark beauties with reaching hands,


Will embrace her roots within their own,


Forever,






Forever,






Is all I can think these days,


From my deep shadowy place under the leaves,


Fallen from the birch bark beauties hands,


My own roots entwining around hers,


Indeed, forever.

Transfer of Power

The transfer of power is in each of us,



We do this daily,


Allow and take the power,


To make our way through the day,






Power… is something that we all possess,


It can be used for making and for malice,


Trust in your heart and make the choices,


Meant to be who you are and what you represent,






Transfer… can be simple showing of emotion,


It can also take the shape of hiding in the shadows,


And every relationship contains a bit of both,


But be not afraid to show what is real,






For the real is the way to see,


And to be in truth and harmony,


Is the lightest way to live,


For it opens the closed doors in us and others,






And love… most of all… love


Love yourself first,


Love your family and friends with equal vigour,


And all things will find a home in that love,