cluttering the net since 2001

ache take 2

Monday, Dec. 12, 2005
it’s a repeat but I don’t care….I miss having time to write poetry…


rafters to write in
and pages for crying
i crave arms
to drown in
and blank stares
to dance with

i want books to laugh at
and read aloud
stories to write about …you
journals to scribble through
never hidden from
eyes…love written
blue ink…true

i want love
that soars miles
and food that
scores mouths
and i want wishes
and butterflies in winter
and wooden floors
that sometimes splinter
my tiniest toes
banded and medicated
with your tentative aid

and sometimes i even want
bare feet needing big
furry…can i borrow your sir slippers?
just to go along where all of your farthest
appendixes go

i want to recite in the bedroom
between thighs open
at high noon
last night’s inspiration
my unuttered poetics
i know like weeds
they need tended
and i want to walk
into you, where my garden might grow

i want to scratch out lists
for the grocery store
wipe out the necessities
and live on luxurious aches…yes… please
on the last page of my notepad hidden
a love letter smitten and already i’ve written….
….to my future true love
for whom my soul already goes…
it wasn’t the milk or the bread
it was love…
i hungered for love, my love…so you know..
it was love and my hunger it led…

ring fingers with fancy
and dancing in showers
water in goblets
larger than fake plastic flowers

soap bubbles with names
and families too
i’ll write you a fairy story
and even if time won’t let you see it
i already know that you’d read it
because my name is the end
and your name is where the story begins

i seek lips wet with wishes
and tongues singing through
the delicate bones of my fingers
to seek skin hidden from even
summer’s eyes washed clear with the morning dew
i want moans never too lonely
and skies full of clouds on a sunday
and limbs entwined through
next tuesday
the 3rd tuesday of next month
i want you to remember
yesterday i loved you
and forever is not one day less
for we will always share today

i want long laundry lines scalloped
with t-shirts all manly
entwined with my teardrops
and longing lined up lace panties
i want backyards and dancing daintily hankies
your eyes on my behind
my naiveté handy

i want you
you to stand silent in the fields full of weeds
and seek only my flowers
with limbs full of treeless thoughts
blank like the wonder
of coming between us
and not ending up dead
in the force of our love

i want sheets stuck to my numbers
digits drummed across
the landscapes of manhood
and eyes laughing in the warm night
i want no more i wishes
and less i could if i would

i want passion and structure
and plans that cut crossed out
spontaneously out plundered
the moment to win
and all calls unanswered
i want you to say my name
so quietly
that i only hear you if i close my eyes
or you place your want safely
in the mystique of the wind

imagine daisies in wreathes
dried up like autumn leaves
hanging from plaster, chipped
and lackluster
raw with emotion
dried up with denial
no…lets crawl back into the page
of our story
away from this …let’s write
about history
about a boy in the north
and a girl bent to the south

too many things
come running
through my ajar heart
it’s a treasure chest never opened
and now…right now
i want to lay myself down
to be yours to explore
every fold of my paper
all of my pages…
every curve of my letter quivering

for both of your eyes

2:45 p.m. ::
prev :: next