Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Catching up (with some older poetry)

Rear View Mirror
I waved a "see you later" and drove away.

You stood in my rear view mirror
And waved the same to me.
Down your street I drove,
Your kiss on my lips, arms embracing my soul.
I began the road toward my home.
And through my green hazy eyes,
With an overwhelmed mind,
I still thought of the recent moments,
Vivid and real, with no sense of time.
You stole me from that night,
Made me whole, and made me feel,
And I left with the illusion the night would not disappear.
But as all moments do, it left me alone to sleep,
Into my past it settled for me to keep.
Now, as I move on into nights of now and to come
I sometimes look back into my mirror above,
To see you, alone outside, staring ahead
And I realize, my wave of "see you later"
Was good-bye instead.

Untitled Moment
Early morning, at a time with no name,

Before night can be called dawn
And the sun is a single glowing flame,
The world is the color of a dream.
In the moment morning grasps twilight,
The moon glows strangely in the sky,
And remembers the evening
Before daylight's blinding rays shine
As a distraction from the truth
Of what was last night.

You stand in the storm barely noticing its fury
And I spin in the hurricane I've created
A perfect mixture of hot and cold
At every turn I see your face, steady and patient
Watching my waves crash into the sand
And you are the grains turning in the water
Rolling with me out to sea as far as the tide allows
Only to fall back and lie where it's calm
Becoming again the awaiting shoreline
Held together until the cold wind blows
The dull stabbing of tossed seaglass is a token
Of the ocean's volatile turmoil, the daily good-bye
As the elements of our past infect the present
Keeping us eternally separate

The sun didn't rise when I woke today.
And as the snow decidedly sinks
Into the frigid abyss of gray
As I shiver beneath my heavy armor

I wonder if her body is keeping yours warm

A bitter cold has set in.
Each frozen drop crashes into my head

And the sound reverberates in my heart
I wonder if she's in your bed

Her head resting on the tear soaked pillow

Does she know those tears are mine?
I wonder is she lying there breathing softly
As she sleeps on your arm where my hair used to be
Is she tangled in the sheets I once found refuge between?
Does my memory linger there quietly?

The frigid air is hard to breathe

It hurts to move with this black ice below me
And I wonder if you can hear my wheels spinning

I wonder, when the sun re-emerges from this gloomy sky
If its warmth will find me hiding from its glaring eye.

The Photograph
Stole that moment and froze it in time
Captured the joy in each corner of our smiles,
Caught light that will never again glow in our eyes,
It held the arms that cradled our love, fragile and fine,
And embraced what was our world, lost in the tide.
The photograph, a precious memory now gone
Depicts our hopes and dreams as we struggle to move on.
This picture of the past, this image in a frame,
Is a beacon slowly dimming,
As the photo disappears in the flame.

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