Coffee

April 17th, 2011

To her I smell like coffee, warm and bold
in fall when mornings plead for the embrace
of rich aroma, conquering the cold
and lonely air that fills her lonely space.
She holds her cup in both unsteady hands;
she smiles and shrugs, expecting me to pour
my caffeine soul, implicitly demands
her fix of warmth and strength with nothing more.
She cools my heated taste with expert lips,
relaxes with the cup against her breast.
I seep into her slowly as she sips
and quickly where the cup is tightly pressed.
Consumed, I linger on to my surprise,
the catalyst of passion in her eyes.


Originally posted 2/22/2009

Angelic Rain

April 15th, 2011

She comes to me like raindrops come to Spring
I feel her like the gentleness of rain
Her beauty’s like a song I want to sing
Without her in my life I’d live in pain
But with her in my life, my heart is clean
She washes me with love and loving care
Like similes of angels I have seen
She flies to me from any anywhere
My soul is parched; I need her in my heart
I can’t believe I’ve thirsted for so long
I’ll finish all she gives me, from the start
She gives me all that’s right, where nothing’s wrong
Her raindrops fill my life with love; I’m blessed
By her angelic presence, love’s expressed.

Come Close, My Love

April 13th, 2011

I feel you close when you’re not even here
As close as when I drink; my lips, your wine
Or when I close my eyes and shed a tear
The warmth upon my cheek is you, divine
Come closer and succumb to my embrace
Angelically, there’s heaven in your touch
I need your presence near; I won’t replace
Your love.  I’ll never say you love too much
I want to place my lips upon your breast
To taste the sweetness of your tender skin
I want to feel your fingers on my chest
And yes, I hope you feel me come within
As close as we can be, I want to be
And know that us is only you and me.

Truth

April 13th, 2011

I learned it’s true, that all the world’s a stage
All men and women merely players too
The truth we seek, we find on any page
We choose, and hope the words we choose are true
Soliloquys are poignant by and by
To anyone who listens to our play
And poetry is havoc that we cry
We let our sonnets slip then turn away
It’s true, the word is god; we speak divine
it’s true that Thou Art God; Thou Art a Word
Divinity’s a play we all refine
With everything we think we’ve ever heard
Since all the world’s a stage, I’d like to know
Will anyone applaud my humble show?

Planning My Day

April 12th, 2011

My day begins when morning comes to call
My dreams are over and the sun comes up
I’m glad I have a window in my wall
I’m glad I have a breakfast bowl and cup
It’s time to plan, get ready for my day
I brush my teeth and then I brush my hair
I choose the clothes I want to wear, and hey!
I put them on unless they have a tear
I’m ready now; I get to go to school
Last night I did my homework; now it’s done
My friends will know that I am smart and cool!
At recess time we’ll play and have some fun!
I’ve planned my day; I’ve got some extra time
I’ll write tonight if I can find a rhyme!

The Error of Trying to Replace Your Love

April 12th, 2011

I can’t replace the love you’ve given, free
I can’t replace the softness of your breast
Your love and softness mean the world to me
They need a poem, need to be expressed
I love your love, your softness, and your kiss
And though I’ve gotten angry, I must say
The things I love are things I’ve come to miss
I hate it when those things are far away
They’re you, and yes, my love is always yours
I want to give you everything I’ve got
I won’t replace the love my want obscures
With anything my want’s occlusion brought
I won’t replace your love; I’d be a fool
Like trying to replace a priceless jewel.

Breaking Her Heart

April 8th, 2011

I didn’t know her heart was mine to break
She didn’t need another broken heart
Considering the pain that was at stake
I can’t believe she took the chance to start
Her love with me; I felt her deep within
The simple words I chose to mark her soul
She let me feel the warmth beneath her skin
But warmth can burn when touched without control
We held each other when we drifted near
We let each other go, to drift away
I should have sealed our bond but now I fear
It doesn’t matter what I want to say
Her broken heart is deaf; my words are trite
She’ll never love again, but then, she might.

The Art of Anger

April 6th, 2011

The art of anger rises in my soul
But when it has no subject, I am lost
I fight to gain emotional control
And wonder what’s been gained at such a cost
There must be beauty in the art of pain
Such masochistic thoughts begin to form
Sometimes as I investigate my brain
I feel them deviating from the norm
Creative impulse used to feel divine
But now it sinks to words denoting hate
It tosses them in each and every line
And even in my couplets, won’t abate
Like knives I use to cut within the Louvre
The art of anger helps my soul to move.

One More Soliloquy Sonnet

April 4th, 2011

Shakespeare likes my last one, so I am going to try and please The Bard once more!


Act 2 Scene 2: What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks? (Spoken by Romeo)

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? 
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. 
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, 
Who is already sick and pale with grief, 
That thou her maid art far more fair than she: 
Be not her maid, since she is envious; 
Her vestal livery is but sick and green 
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. 
It is my lady, O, it is my love! 
O, that she knew she were! 
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? 
Her eye discourses; I will answer it. 
I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks: 
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, 
Having some business, do entreat her eyes 
To twinkle in their spheres till they return. 
What if her eyes were there, they in her head? 
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, 
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven 
Would through the airy region stream so bright 
That birds would sing and think it were not night. 
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! 
O, that I were a glove upon that hand, 
That I might touch that cheek!


The Bard was merciless with this one!
So much is already written in blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter)!
Here’s my attempt. (Go easy on me, Bill!)

For Juliet

If you were dark, my heart would feel the same
The sun and moon are nothing like your skin
Your vestal livery precludes the flame
But soft, what light of love is held within?
There’s warmth within the light of sun and stars
Your eyes are thus: the windows of your soul
That birds would sing in over-simple bars
And twilight would concede to their control
And touching you, unchecked, would burn my hand
Although I only want to touch your cheek
The song of birds obeys your light’s command
Through yonder window, metaphors will speak
Extended far beyond the pain we feel
Their songs become my words, and yes, they’re real!

Talking Love

April 2nd, 2011

She says she wants to feel me “come inside”
I tell her, with sincerity, “I will”
Desire’s not a thing we have to hide
Not even when we’re absolutely still
We tried it once; she says we’ll try again
Our motion isn’t easy to prevent
I guess we kind of like it, now and then
And now our passion’s love has this intent:
She says, “Let’s start on baby.” I agree
She says, “I need you.” Now she’s talking love
Her “Handsome Prince” I always want to be
And always be the one she’s thinking of!
She tells me that I make her “heart complete”
The words she chooses, make her more than Sweet!