Time Apart

I guess it took some time apart
To de-elaborate my trust,
To miss your lips without crying,
To appreciate the words you wrote
And sang
Some weeks ago.

I guess it took some time apart
To re-desire your love,
To feel it always, but also hear,
To know how I detest the silence
Metronomical watch
Key type-
To miss the piano keys
And those hands.

I guess it took some time apart
To ache for souls that don't know time
And don't separate.
I took some time looking over
Your black marker sentiment.
I kissed the printout picture of you.
My confession to you-
I kissed you because I wanted it to be Sunday.

Sunday is holy for us.
I live to be your altar.
Forever you I love.
 
 

Sunday

Sunday won't be perfect.
It will take two hours for me to
Get to heaven and when I'm there
We'll get dirty in ten,
Then purified by sound
Streaming through microphones-
Vessels, bodies, instruments,
Seekers of desire filled by the notion
That always isn't nearly long enough
To spend with you.
 
 

Something In The Way

Something in the way
you cover "something"
reminds me of that putrid odor
of half puked in trash cans
(the rest in lackadaisical droppings
On the floor).
Your lover is a drunken slobber
Stutter stammer whore on the floor.
Always on the floor.
Return me to George's grace of
in
tonality and gracefulness.
 
 
 

Fingers Tapping

Fingers tapping on
my arm,
Asking.
         Let me stay with you
         For another day
And talk about the tie dye in my window
And how I'll own that cafe down the street someday.
Folk rock hip love jazz
                                      blues
cafe
so when you're away your music
will play
on the sound system,
but we didn't sell out-
we'll just have a nice
sound system.
 
 

3:33 Rhapsody

I couldn't tell you where my half-diminished chord
hid away.  Or resloutions
Caressing as your tone
passed mine.  When spring thaws we will
Love
Have each other and
There's comfort in knowing how you
Never miss a beat.
                            Kisses are still wild.
 
 

Saturday High

Because we had time.
We were here and maybe
You wanted to remember and
I knew I'd forget.
I'd drop the cookies all over the sheets
And I was right,
The way you took care of me.
It was right,
The way you took care of me.
 
 

Going to Leave

I wouldn't mind you going but
Don't leave.
I've fallen forward,
well
    I've been kicked
                   by the leavers.
I wouldn't mind you going but
Don't leave.
 

Awkwardly Religious

Let these lyrics
Weave around your mouth and please
say say
satiations.
Let these hands
Play like yours
Just on your pillow.
I cry because I remember how
It smells like you.
Sunday you are my blessing!
 
 

Love Needs No Instructions (For John, with whom I could rescue Tim)

(just a response poem to what Tim wrote):

Lowfat cookies
And the quad outside:
People walking,
You're walking and I'm portable like your phone-
If only my warmth were more like
Motherly sun to feed and clothe you on
Cold days like these, my love.
He wants to smoke with
hippies and I just remember your shirttiedye on your chest and my
head on your chest and the colors became everything
whole and you rested your arm on me,
lefty,
So I was thinking about a crusade.
We'd take our shab tab collection of pieces
(I like yours, the small clay psychadelic one)
and tear up 1-95 in the VW that wants to be classic
on our mission to deliver a yin yang smile to the boy that
helped me keep mine.
Mind expanding music,
Rock Jazz Hendrix HeNDriX!
Eight hour car ride,
Hands on thighs, until we get there.
Music.
 
 

Confessions of a Former eBay Addict

I used to spend my time bidding.
Bidding money, biding time.
Selling, dealing, trading, needing:
I always needed.
Of all my worthlessly expensive posters,
The lavish tapestries that defeat their own purposes,
The lamps, shades, beads made in sweatshops
probablywithout                            love,
                                 I love best
The three-by-five black-and-white printout
Of us with our new haircuts, silly faced,
And loved.
 
 

On Our Feet

You arrived
Sanctimonious landslide
In true intent
With seaborn eyes,
To make the blind
Hear
Love.
 
 

Merry Making

Scales upstairs- she hit a high B.
Studious and alone,
I want you here with me.
Greedily I steal five minutes of your time
For the simple pleasure of your encompassing
Warmth.
Devotion expressed through sounds we make-
Scales upstairs
She hit a high B.
Cold for warmth,
Thank you for loving me.
 
 

Supermarkets

I went, and I didn't discover a star
Or even Walt Whitman.
There was hunger
And the knowledge that
I would never be hungry.
 
 

Running Out

Running out of ink and gas and everything exhaustably
Enlightened today.
Excess machines,
Ephemeral drag queens-
Mardi Gras in college crack whore towns.
Death be not pleasureable.
 
 
 
 

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