Archive for December 2011
Shiva
Small words.
Strange window.
Lovely laughs.
Headlights.
Smile, it’s pretty today.
Hello,
goodnight.
Twirling fingers.
Pretty eyes.
Promising.
Devour.
Rushed.
Unrealized.
Suitcases unpacked.
Danger.
Lustrous.
Need time.
Strength
in an unusual form.
Against rushed certainty.
But thoughts follow
the film score playlist.
Don’t beg for more.
Not now. Not ready.
Just wondrous.
Cheers
An elevator of sorts
lifts and drops the spirits
on a soggy day.
The up and down motion
repeated throughout the
minutes is tiring.
But I can almost see
the lights ahead, colorful
and streaming from trees.
And an escape back into wonderland
is reachable.
But an unpacked journey is seemingly dangerous.
Slow Drive
The rain falling calmly on the leaves
resembles a nighttime drive with you.
Like the peace that surrounds our words,
loud laughs. Not a worry.
A couch conversation
in a crowded room.
A few more laughs
and I can only hear you.
See you
Call it a protection of a possible disaster.
Yeah, that’s what we’ll call it.
Averting some bad future, bad history,
all at once.
Because I need the smoke to fill the room,
before I can realize where I am,
and maybe where I should be.
It only looks like home.
It’s hard to recall what the words meant
or describe the picture again.
I’ll never let what’s right for me
walk through that door.
Call it a flaw of the grain
found on silver screens;
false beliefs of the world
painted behind sunglasses.
Of Myra
It’s important to find the beauty
hidden in the ugliest times.
To find the lake hiding behind the castle
is a good place to begin.
Snow-capped hills fill the void
between the towers and the sky.
And fog wraps the fortress walls
inviting only the curious.
The shadows from the spires
paint the lake in blue and gray.
A motion reminder of the luck
we have surrounded ourselves with.
What I would give to wake up here,
walk into town, breathe Christmas air.
But the lights don’t match up right now,
and one day the snow will fall.
Should Say
Should you remind me
that we are all the same,
that true wants are always pulled out?
The walking bridges need to fall
down below the water and rocks they hover
above. The truth is you’re not
willing to give up anything.
And though you hate the robe,
you love to swing your gavel
down below the water and rocks you cover.
You’re just no surprise anymore.
And you’ve taken the friend out of friendship.
Clean the time out with soap and water.