Friday, January 30, 2009

Passions Flames

I could smell the smoke and see it rising from the flames
As you described your broken heart
Colors, incandescent, alive and furious reached ever higher
He had hurt you
I have always loved fires of any kind
And I lose myself to the flames
He made you cry with indiscretions and lies
I could see the pain in your eyes.
Gusts of early September wind
Carried the fire’s heat to me on a blanket of cool air
It was a strange sensation,
Feeling the coolness of the wind and the warmth of the fire at once
He loved you, but betrayed you, and was cruel
I was sympathetic
Because I do not like cruelty or injustice

The tree above us, above the fire
Had far reaching branches.
I don’t know what kind of tree it was
But I think it was enjoying the fire’s warmth with me
There is a right and a wrong in this world, you said
The last few sticks I added, along with the logs already burning
Had created tremendous flames
But the sticks were dry and old
And were burning quickly
Why do we allow ourselves to love so fully
And to be hurt so deeply?

Still, you said
You would not give up on love
The fire was dying now, having been absorbed by the darkness
By the tree, and by me
The night was growing cold, but the embers still glowed
And a thin trail of smoke drifted into the stars.
“I understand” I finally said,
“Let me hold you. I believe in love too.”
And I do

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Love's Blind Journey

I was in love
But I did not love her
I loved her
But I was not in love
I walked
But did not feel the bareness of my feet upon the sand
I breathed
But could not fathom the greatness of breath
I smiled while lying
Lived while dying
And I never once
Opened my eyes

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Our Outline

Loves memory has traced our outline in this place.
But will the spider remember, or the sun?
Did the water capture our faces in permanence?
Does the wind create us anew as it blows?
Did the shadows from the trees record our passage beneath them?
Our secret has been revealed,
Yet I have told no other.
I write these words in silence, in mute testimony to what once was.
But our image remains alive in this place.
You and I,
We then, were here.
We saw the day and hoped for tomorrow.
We caught a brief glimpse of love’s promise.
We were not liars,
But thieves of time.
For now time has now forgotten us,
Yet our memory lingers
And love remembers,
This place that was ours.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

No Such Thing as Tears

On a dusty shelf
Or in a drawer
Or a box on the attic floor
There is a picture
Of the two of us in love
But time has turned an ugly corner
More than once
So now we shine with gray hairs
And wrinkled brows
Across the lying years
Remembering a time
When we were the sun
And when there was no such thing
As tears

Moth to a Flame

You are fluttering and flitting
Rising and falling
Towards the flickering light
Winged on the night
Embrace the darkness
Yet hunger for the light
Closer and closer you circle
To the tantalizing flame
Like passion
This obsession
Calls your simple name
You will have your desire
This fire
But be fearful of what you seek
For death does not respect
The innocent or the meek
You have no care
No worries to bear
Simply living out your whim
And like the fire
You are so drawn to him
But like the static creates the spark
He will break your heart
You will ignite into flame
And be then eaten
By the dark

The Killing Snow

The killing snow
Fell softly
Delicate through the sky
I laughed
Blinking my eyes
In the bright whiteness
This was love
I thought
Falling from heaven
And I devoured it with my senses
Sweet perfect snow
Lifting my heart upward
As it drifted to the ground
This love is not cumbersome
I thought
Slowly growing numb
Loves virgin birth on a winter’s night
Shivering, I thought
And I’m still smiling
Frozen dead
And covered white