Friday, April 28, 2006

The Buss is gone.

For Lennie Buss

Love and lovers end in heart break.
Endless longing pressing against you
Like a great ape pounding luggage against his bars.
The end is the same, the exterior survives
But the contents are broken.
Like a man standing on the corner.
Waiting for the last Buss of the Night.
Watching the minutes tick by on his sons watch.
As the suns warmth is cooled by the dark
The Buss is gone.
The minutes tick.
The man waits.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Never

I'll never cry again
because I've lost you.
Because my heart would break,
And my soul would run dry
As the tears pulled me, from within,
To a more lonely and barren place.
No, I can never cry again.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

The Winter Dogwood

For Katie - By Andrew

When the leaves were golden and with my collar pulled in close,
I could have walked from Ramblin Rose to Farlight in seven minutes.
I could have knocked on the door at 3831
And waited for the porch light to come on.
And her smile would have warmed me,
Inviting me in with and innocent gesture
Touching my arm with her hand.

Our Gloves would brush over each other
As our wings fluttered in the snow.
She'd catch snowflakes,
Some on her cheeks and some on her tongue.
Some melting into tears, others into laughter.

Tender little starts who had taken courage
Would have seen her as she walked
From Farlight to 12400 Ramblin Rose
Drawn to her warmth.
Moments later our shadows would have passed together.
And brightened the new shoots into a familiar shade of green
As our hands swung between us in a loose embrace.
The blossoms on our dogwood tree would have bluched
If they could ahve seen the dimples of her smile.

But now the chill bends,
As it slips beneath my collar.
And an empty cloud lingers
As the moisture clings to the last bit of warmth,
Before dying.
Silence echoes through empty boxes
And empty rooms on farlight.
Now that she is gone.
I would like to start over again last autumn
And tell her we belong together.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

My Fire

I have been lonely before.
Listing between friends.
Going through the motions again and again.
Adding the moments together,
like salty drops of tears in a bitter pool.
Living a life of tepid comfort.
Without passion, fire, flame.
Like a man in a cold room
Warm and wrapped in a blanket
Comfortable, but longing for fire
For the feeling of heat on his back
With his shoulder naked
And his eyes closed
This is how I see you.
You are the fire.
You are the warm glowing embers.
The black and red hot coals
And the blue fire licking the edges
I have been lonely before.
If only I had the courage to open my eyes
You would be my fire.