Sonnettics

Time can be perfect when it goes like this:
Dreaming of Mari, her arms and her kiss
My time at the therapist went alright
My pain had subsided; I slept last night
I picked up my phone, called Daniel, my son
He liked playing soccer; today he’d won!
My boy sounded happy; my boy is good.
He works hard at school like he knows he should.
We’d just said “Goodbye;” the phone rang once more
My Mari was calling, just like before
Her voice made me happy; I love to hear
about her, about her. I’d love her near.
I promised I’d visit when I was healed
My love for my Mari is never concealed.

Love Forever Sweetie.

We parked my jeep and thought of all the heat
in Mari’s house, before we went to swim
We thought of Bruegger’s Bagels where we’d eat
DeRuyter was the opposite, was grim
DeRuyter lake was rough, the autumn wind
blew whitecaps toward the dam from which we’d leave
Like hell before the spirits who have sinned
DeRuyter offered torment not reprieve
We leaped into the water, cold indeed
Our wetsuits were as warm as we would get
Each stroke we took defined our subtle speed
There was no doubt that we were cold and wet
The island was our goal, I watched you go
You beat me there and back; I swam too slow!

We danced and walked the river, hand in hand
She let me taste her mouth, her tongue, her lips
We left each other just as if we’d planned
A future far apart and void of trips
And when the future came, I felt her fear
that this was just a repeat of the past
and threatened things she wanted to hold dear.
My feelings came awake again, and fast.
My memories of touching her were sweet
I still recall her art, and how she drew.
She didn’t seem at home in Texas heat.
I wondered why she loved me, if she knew
I felt the same, but felt beneath her love.
And now I wonder what she’s thinking of?

I want to taste the skin of just one more
One woman who has dreamed there’d come a day
When someone would release her, through her door
Then hand in hand we’d kiss and run away
I know a lot of places we could run
then sit and feel each other, hand to hand
by lake or hillside, talking one to one
clean free of expectations or demand
I only want to give her all of me
I only want to take what she will give
I want to call it love if she’ll agree
That loving is the “what” she wants to live
I want to taste her mouth and all it’s skin
I want to let her take me slowly in.

I woke upon the mount; I felt the snow
I saw the faces of the newly dead
There only was one way that I could go
The path was down, but I chose up instead
She rose above the injuries she bore
and wrapped her arms around as best she could
I felt like she had held me once before
She kissed me and she told me that I could
proceed uop the path, the upward way
and yet I felt she wished I would go down
I asked if she had something more to say
But all she did was look at me and frown
So down I went and knew she’d come as well
Until she comes I feel I’m still in Hell

I feel the comfort softly that you bring
your voice is like the water in a stream
your softness is the grace of which I sing
Like light expands from nothing to a beam
A beam of light upon on a stream is mine
Now hear me say I thought of you today
reflected on the lilly-pads divine
Your form is beauty, Eyes can bear away
annoint mine eyes with wisions of your form
annoint mine eyes with what I want to see
Yout stature and your shape subdue the storm
of what the other women want to be.
Your comfort fits within the form, displayed
Upon the water, still. your birth is made

My words are weak without her knowing eyes
They feel too flat; they sound like schoolboys’ lies
The poetry I tried to write in death
In life was little more than shallow breath
I cry; so what? An infant cries as well
The only way to Heaven is through Hell
Cliché is like a simile of dust
With metaphoric winds my poems gust
Her eyes are closed, protecting her from me.
My words are nothing she would want to see.
I’ll write again, compose, with words to hear
With whispered words I’ll keep my pages clear
I’ll write in emanation of my voice
Such poems will be far beyond her choice.

Against a life confused by common pain
I listen to your voice and feel your care
I hate the way I am, my injured brain
I love the way you listen; you are there
whenever I am down or when I’m low
I love the way we touch within my mind
I love the way you always seem to know
the memories I want you to remind
Remind me of your softness and the bliss
I’ve felt within the time I think of you
Remind me of your sweetness with a kiss
I’ll wait forever here until you do
Against my active mind I’ll hold you near
because I love to feel your comfort, dear.

She doesn’t long for years; she longs for days
I wish I had a day with her to share
emotions, in the myriad of ways
she gives her love to me; I feel her care
The world will go around a million times
she only cares about the next go-round
The night will turn to day, a sonnet rhymes
Within her daily care my comfort’s found
I like to think my view extends for years
I like to think her view is for a day
My vision can be clouded by my tears
and hers is in her heart; too far away
I wonder if together we would see
the way things are and how they ought to be.

The Heavens and its Angels come and go
Perhaps a Mormon boy like me should know
I drank a cup of coffee in a bar
I thought of Truxton loop; it seemed too far
Before I died, I lived in Heaven, whole
and loved how Heaven’s Angel calmed my soul
then sweet, within the bar, she called my phone
to calm my loneliness; I was alone
The music there was loud; it drowned her voice
I called her back; the Angel of my choice
I missed my Angel; phones connect or not
the barmaid, Gretchen, served my coffee hot
and then became an Angel, gifted me
my coffee and her smile for nothing, free.