Sonnettics

I know she needs her space and needs her time
I owe her more than this; she wants to mend
I never thought her “broken;” she’s sublime
I want to be her patient, loving friend
I know I can be stupid, but I try
to earn my friend’s forgiveness when I can
I know I’ve had no right to make her cry
I know that she deserves a better man
She’s strong enough to live her life alone
She loves her girls and gives them all her heart
Compassion is a flower that she’s grown
Its beauty is her garden’s simple start.
My friend will find her way; of this I’m sure
I’ll give her what she needs; my love is pure.

It’s not cliché to say I Love you more
than all the Beauty I have ever known,
than all the Love I ever felt before:
before, when I was nothing but alone.

The Truth of Love can never be cliché.
My Love for you can never be defined;
it simply is, with little more to say:
a peace of soul, of body, and of mind.

It is the place my spirit wants to be
forever, and forever, and again,
a place to know that I am truly free,
a place where I am truly welcomed in.

To live, to laugh, to Love in every way,
to say I Love you more is not cliché.

Nostalgia held my hand and walked with me
in search of love, the first time it was mine.
Our path meandered through my memory;
we stopped at each and every tell-tale sign:
at every friend I thought that I would keep,
at every hand my fingers would entwine.
I replayed all my kisses, quick or deep.
I re-read all my poems, every line;
but all the signs of love revealed the truth
that what I thought was love was just a shade,
and “first love” which I thought I’d find in youth
was not in any memory I’d made.
Nostalgia left and now I see it’s true;
my first true love is here and now, with you.

Control becomes a fantasy when lost
on darkened street, by dim unlighted door.
Though stealth and boldness didn’t count the cost;
the angel in the rain discovered more.
The flesh that trembles isn’t always weak;
the back that leans may not need such support.
I watched her pose and didn’t dare to speak
for fear mere words would weaken their report.
When hands and skin both feel the others heat
and whispers fill a lover with desires,
oblivious control has met defeat,
is ignorant of what such loss inspires.
A night of dreams of lifetime filled with love;
a peaceful morning cooing like a dove.

She sings to me like no one else before;
she puts her heart into her voice and sings.
She sings the colors of her love and more;
she gives each loving note a set of wings,
and all her songs surround and lift my soul.
She knows the songs my chaos needs to hear
as I surrender self and self control,
to let her music lift and draw me near.
At times I feel as if I’m far away,
as far away as heaven is from hell,
and though I told my love I’d always stay,
my sweetest love, she knows me all too well.
And so she sends her songs on tender wings
to gently draw me back with all she sings.

I love your hot desire; it melts my soul
Like summer’s heat melts anything too cold
I love it when you melt my self-control
By moving fast beyond the bounds of bold
Desire begets desire between our skin
Like clouds beget the lightning of the sky
I love the way I feel when you begin
Your lightning brings my thunderous reply!
But even in your heat, I feel your peace
I love the way your storms bring healing rain
Desire is more than just a quick release
You give it to me time and time again!
Come melt my frozen soul again with fire
I’m not too cold to feel your hot desire!

2/14/2012

They taught me how to kill with just my hands
a skill that made my arrogance complete
I fight to win when arrogance demands
I don’t know fear; I’ve never known defeat
I’ve been inside the belly of the beast
The ground was several hundred feet below
They handed me a piece of silk, at least
I jumped when Sergeant Airborne shouted: “Go!”
I got to blow shit up in Fayette-nam
I learned to drink in all the titty-bars
At Camp Mackall my life was never calm
And I can prove it by some subtle scars
They’ll never take my silver wings away
Nor will they try to take my Green Beret.

I love your warm compassion in my life
Your empathetic virtue is divine
With humanistic grace, your love is rife
I love the soul you are, and that you’re mine
Compassion is a gift you give to all
Though warmth you give to me is just for me
I know your warmth will certainly enthrall
The coldest heart, wherever it may be
There is no ice immune to warmth from you
The ice transforms like water you compel
I know it’s autonomic when you do
And yet, I know you’ve chosen it as well
Divinity’s compassion that you give
Warm, empathetic virtue’s how you live.

2/14/2012

Reality is like a cloud of smoke
What burned?  Who set the fire alight, and why?
We try to breathe, but with each breath we choke
Our teardrops fall until our eyes are dry
There is no way to clean the filthy air
And so we make reality our own
creating “beauty” when our minds repair
solidity with any little stone
Though others try to put the fire out
It makes me laugh to think they have a plan
To think that they will try to live without
reality.  I wonder if they can.
I laugh at what I think and do as well
Reality is heaven’s smoke in hell.

I love your loyalty; I swear mine’s yours
You’re loyal to your heart and to your vows
Your loyalty is pure and it restores
My faith in love, a faith I will espouse
More loyal than the sunrise is to dawn
More loyal than a sailor to his ship
Though rope may lose its strength when strands are gone
Your soul’s a loyal knot that will not slip
Your loyalty is fibers from within
It ties our hearts together; we are bound
I feel its strength when we are skin-to-skin
It calls to me without a single sound
By loyalty, our faith in love’s sustained
And though we’re bound, our love is unrestrained.

2/14/2012