OverCome

As his fleeting thoughts drifted
through the tingles of arousal,
the winds shook the trees free
of their laggard leaves.

The panes of his windows grieved
and creaked beneath the growing frost,
like a blanket of lust
obstructing the light.

Deteriorating Conditions

Swooping down, she pulled the sky
so high I could see tomorrow.

Giving me wind and a wing, and boy
did I fly!

Until, the sun set, the tailwind
crossed, the skies darkened.

She threw up mountainous thunderheads,
they cut like a shard of glass.

A howling chill cast, from the walls she
shattered in an un-forecasted storm.

The heavy blanket shot
over my heart won't warm the chill,

until the sun rises.

Rose Colored Glasses beneath Blue Skies

Standing in the middle of the road
at noon, in June,
the light is paralyzing. Everything shines
in a glow of possibility.
The beauty is surreal, like lies
in a halo; where
love waits, always waits, beyond
the next sunrise.

Solitude

The hour before sun

rise, the furniture

rests. The house

doesn't weep but

cradles me in
its

darkness; before the light

comes. It'll

moan with desire, holding you

out there.

Cant

alone, watching
people sit in their
comfy chairs
sipping their joy
from a cup;
when I notice
no one cares
to watch me.

Apropos

The abrupt slope
at the foot of echoes
chanting, "No!"
-- halts her
galloping feat -- Just
seconds before
losing her shoes.

lame games

what pushing too hard looks like.  crappy poetry... reflects crappy circumstances... where life is never fair, and waiting is eternal. someday will be one day -- if even in a hundred years.  I'll wait. I'll wait because there is nothing else to do. I'll wait for time to catch up with love ... .... ......

a beautiful picture of her

she shared in a click--

in a click, like a bic lighter

my heart fell, on fire.

grateful for flickr

making a few clicks of my own,

wiping out my wipe out, 

when my heart fell, on fire 

    

                                           . . .

Occupation

Her big girl panties heaved
out the window,
twirling her dress: spinning heads
          as she passes
          flashing smiles.
The chess board
collecting dust
in the corner of her room.

Loneliness

stuck in extended
      shallowness
       like glass
         blown
          too long:
       ignored
  in an open fire,
wasting to embers. 

About Time

Hands in lap, as they should be
watching you talk to me
posture of fear drapes your shoulders
heavy like boulders;

waiting for my gavel to drop
not quite knowing the type of crop
my garden grows, but please know
a pedestal I will never tow.

Against the resistance
at my persistence
giving me a half smile, chin down
eyes full of questions, answered on some dawn.

Thinking of time, eyes locked
on some distant rhyme knocked
out just for you, hoping it will
be me, with my lips being sealed.

A bolt flashes through me
screaming, "MAKE YOUR MOVE DUMMY!"
thinking better of it, I move as if the clock
read yesterday when destiny made me flock
To You, in the first place.

Moon Lighting

The umbrella rests by the back door--
the distant storm races
   mocking the forgetful woman
rushing to her lovers embrace.

accept-shun

as dawn broke
the sun trekked
over what must have been
a million miles, or more

rapping upon her
window pane
day in-- and out;
the curtains, always drawn.

Timing

Every now and then
Seven days a week
I sit back in my own critique

and I sink into that moment

That moment when
I fell in love with you;
That moment, you never knew

I was waiting, all alone.

A Thing or Two

tomorrow at dusk
I won't be your wife because
playing is more fun
than doing dirty laundry

‪#‎Haiku‬ ‪#‎Tanka‬ ‪#‎Poetry‬ ‪#‎MicroPoetry‬

Cracked

“Come fly with me,” Frank sang;
But he ended up dead
Before I could get there

Just like life.

With feet dangling like a dream
Unmet, Alone I jumped
Off the wall

To fly away, somewhere--

And oh, What a great fall it was
Until, the crash—
With nowhere to land,

In particular

Like Earhart’s Electra
Off the coast of Somewhere;
I shattered

As I fell

To a million pieces,
Never to be
Put back together again.

Damn you Frank!

1998

Tonight,

One shot and a beer;

Or

Was it one beer and three shots?

No matter...

Though the latter

Sounds more like truth--

I drink to keep

My mind from wondering,

Should I shout

Out your name;

Or

Continue to drown

Out this drunkenness

With more

Liquor?

Polysemous

Being near her,
Makes a shot of liquor
Uncalled for....

Stuff

Boxes packed
Almost like fact
BUT!  Really it's more like
a fuck you
out of the blue, kinda.

Prevention

A latte, I got
today and a
brat or more I got too--
But a tat, I got to get
before I splat
a slat against my skin;
again...

She Was Hope

When darkness swallows

the sunny memories

of day, 

hope bares to

its nakedness

hiding within the

abandoned whisper

just beyond the shadows;

leaving no trace

she ever was.