I want us to be
champagne and orchids
in the courtyard
I want to spoonfeed
on moonlight in your eyes
I want the sky to memorize
how it becomes violet
and I ashes beneath your touch
I want to send roses to God
thank him for you
my love
but I don't know if the dove
can fly that distance
and maybe he's not even home
anymore
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Thursday, November 9, 2017
Memorist Goes Back Home
light fell across the room so beautifully
where you used to sleep
the last place I would have you next to me
the rooms were bigger then
maybe because we had love living in them
our path is gone
the door was locked
the windows dirty but I brushed them off
and looked back across the years
looking for a trace of us
and of course you weren't there
the spring house was abandoned too
where I used to scoop cool water
out for you
the road was new, the gravel gone
so too the oak tree roots I read
"Seventeenth Summer" on
I looked around me lost in memories
"Summer Breeze," coming from my brother's
bedroom window blowing down the stairs
that song still touches me
your pretty flowers all gone now
your garden's just a tangled meadow full
of weeds but still remain a few old lovely trees
I saw my bedroom, empty now, nothing there
but I remember rain song on that old tin roof
still needing no repair
vines have stolen up the side where lilacs used to grow
and fragrance the night outside our windows
and the porch where you used to sit with your coffee
and your cigarette, well it's still there not destroyed yet
the sun was still beating down the silence
so hot, hungry and heavy
the desperation that you surely felt
I could feel it swallow me
the mailbox gone
the fence is too
the clothesline now removed
I came back looking for something of you
but now I know it's not around the curve
that my mind keeps coming back to
in my heart that's where you reside
where this memorist shelters you
Have you ever felt a place pull you backward in time ? Some places hold so much of who we were, clues of who we are going to become. I felt the urge to go home once more to the last place I lived with my mother and siblings. It still felt like home but I realized later that it wasn't the home I was looking for but those that are gone from me and maybe I was trying to connect to the girl I was that was on a different path, wondering what would have been different if things had turned out opposite the way it did. How different would my life have turned out? I don't think I'll return again, what or who I'm looking for is no longer there but in my memories.
where you used to sleep
the last place I would have you next to me
the rooms were bigger then
maybe because we had love living in them
our path is gone
the door was locked
the windows dirty but I brushed them off
and looked back across the years
looking for a trace of us
and of course you weren't there
the spring house was abandoned too
where I used to scoop cool water
out for you
the road was new, the gravel gone
so too the oak tree roots I read
"Seventeenth Summer" on
I looked around me lost in memories
"Summer Breeze," coming from my brother's
bedroom window blowing down the stairs
that song still touches me
your pretty flowers all gone now
your garden's just a tangled meadow full
of weeds but still remain a few old lovely trees
I saw my bedroom, empty now, nothing there
but I remember rain song on that old tin roof
still needing no repair
vines have stolen up the side where lilacs used to grow
and fragrance the night outside our windows
and the porch where you used to sit with your coffee
and your cigarette, well it's still there not destroyed yet
the sun was still beating down the silence
so hot, hungry and heavy
the desperation that you surely felt
I could feel it swallow me
the mailbox gone
the fence is too
the clothesline now removed
I came back looking for something of you
but now I know it's not around the curve
that my mind keeps coming back to
in my heart that's where you reside
where this memorist shelters you
Have you ever felt a place pull you backward in time ? Some places hold so much of who we were, clues of who we are going to become. I felt the urge to go home once more to the last place I lived with my mother and siblings. It still felt like home but I realized later that it wasn't the home I was looking for but those that are gone from me and maybe I was trying to connect to the girl I was that was on a different path, wondering what would have been different if things had turned out opposite the way it did. How different would my life have turned out? I don't think I'll return again, what or who I'm looking for is no longer there but in my memories.
Monday, November 6, 2017
Blue Exhale
the burns stains on your favorite crimson chair
your Winston painting blue clouds in a room
large enough to seat fifteen
it wasn't the smoke that choked me
angry days were behind you, I think
grieving days were shelved for when you
were alone
memories were aired
you remembered loving someone whose
only want was to break you
blue was the color of our world
sadness tinged with resigned loneliness
mornings were on repeat
walking on ice
cold indoors
colder outdoors
taking that walk that may lead
to a better somewhere or nowhere at all
but you were sitting there so beautiful
in your blue exhale
your Winston painting blue clouds in a room
large enough to seat fifteen
it wasn't the smoke that choked me
angry days were behind you, I think
grieving days were shelved for when you
were alone
memories were aired
you remembered loving someone whose
only want was to break you
blue was the color of our world
sadness tinged with resigned loneliness
mornings were on repeat
walking on ice
cold indoors
colder outdoors
taking that walk that may lead
to a better somewhere or nowhere at all
but you were sitting there so beautiful
in your blue exhale
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