Honey

If inspiration struck me
I would strike back
and not turn the other cheek.
I'd write something eloquent
I'd give you a standing ovation
with my pen.
If you were a hospital
or a doctor
I would continually be
holding the thermometer to the flame.

You, girl, sing a song to me
you weave a melody
and I, boy
turn my ship to follow
the salty brine I swallow,
is your honey.

Benjamin Button

Every word I write is born old.
Useless.
Feeble and cynical.
A crabby shadow of youth.
Solomon said it best...
“There is nothing new under the sun.”

However, a miraculous transformation is in the works.
The longer they hang around
the longer they linger
the fitter they get.
After a second glance
or a third
they take new life.

And by the time you've arrived at the end
(if there really is one)
they've taken hold of you
like an infant
reaching out its tiny hand
to clutch your extended finger
looking up
with small, watery eyes
full of promise.

Archer

Cupid you fool.
You were supposed to place your shot
through both our hearts.
Rather
I am wounded
and she escapes unscathed.
Now I pant
and sit awhile
upon a rock
unsteady and feeble.
Weak
All the wrong people
love all the wrong people
You
are a lousy archer.

Chucks

Hey girl
you're cute
I like the way you smile
your hands are ripe for holding
keep on laughing
keep on grinning
for now lets talk
later we can sit beside the water
watch the sun go down
and share a first kiss.
You're more fun
when your friends are away
you're more fun
in the afternoon
the sunshine suits you
you wear it well
in your eyes and on your skin.
I'm awkward
and eager
you've got me all wound up
acting like a schoolboy.

Crimson and Whiskey

What did you think as you walked through the door?
Climbed the stairs to the second floor
Of the house you grew up in and died
Crimson and whiskey are bed to misfortune
And everything we know we learned from distortion
This place was on fire; my ears are still ringing with youth

I am hardly here
But I’m still breathing

Mystery tell me the story of redemption
But leave out the details of my imperfection
I know them all too well
This is the place where we all stop to think
Of the places we didn’t, mistakes that we make
And of chances we didn’t deserve

Color and closure are there for the taking
The place of exposure and history’s making
It’s biggest mistake by giving up on the first try
Distance and travel will be taken lightly
I’ll hide all your secrets inside if you’ll let me
Believe in a place that is known only to us

I am hardly here
As you stop breathing

Mystery tell me the story of redemption
But leave out the details of my imperfection
I know them all too well
This is the place where we all stop to think
Of the places we didn’t, mistakes that we make
And of chances we didn’t deserve

This is it
This is everything
Are you happy?
Do you like the rain?
We brought it just for you
We bought it just for you

I am hardly here
As you stop breathing

Mystery tell me the story of redemption
But leave out the details of my imperfection
I know them all too well
This is the place where we all stop to think
Of the places we didn’t, mistakes that we make
And of chances we didn’t deserve
And of chances we didn’t deserve

How did you feel as you walked through the door?
Climbed the stairs to the second floor
Of the house you grew up in
And died

3/4

At dusk I sit
am feasted upon
and disappear.
If the sky were a verse
there would be
no need for another.
God himself is nearby
I can hear His soft footsteps
in the dewy grass.
And time itself
lays down beside
then consumes me.

In the summer

I wish that it was autumn
when the bluebird's only passin' through
I wish that it was autumn
then I wouldn't feel so bad
for missin' you

I wish that it was autumn
when the winter snow is on the way
I wish that it was autumn
then I wouldn't feel so bad
for bein' gray

Spring is all around me
Summers all but found me
but I'm holdin' out
You don't know how it breaks me
or how I want to take me
somewhere far away
So I'm wishin' it was autumn
Something else to blame
For why I feel this way

I wish that it was autumn
when the days are starting to turn cold
I wish that it was autumn
then I wouldn't feel so bad
for growin' old

Spring is all around me
Summers all but found me
but I'm holdin' out
You don't know how it breaks me
or how I want to take me
somewhere far away
And then the wind will whisper
Boy you know you miss her
when you’re all alone
And what I’d give to kiss her
or maybe just forget her
I’d do anything
So I'm wishin' it was autumn
Something’ else to blame
For why I feel this way
Something’ else to blame
For why I feel this way

The Wind and the Willow

So I am free as the wind.
Does not the wind long to dance with the willow?
To kiss the sail on the mouth
or caress the grassy bosom of the plains?


Does not he wish
to bear the sparrow in loving arms,
to speak softly to the pines?
And would he not indulge the graceful nape of the maples neck
with a gentle hand?


***


Should the wind whisper sonnets
and the songs of lovers
in the most demure of voices
or rise with a furious passion
to fell the mighty
is it not still the same wind?
And is it not one and the same,
the breath that extinguishes the candles light
yet fans the forest fire?


I am alive as a gale;
lean into me.
I am as docile as the breeze
on an early summer evening porch
that summons the goosebumps;
let me embrace you.

Fishing (an afterthought...)

a girls heart is a slippery fish
after you reel it in
if you try to hold it in your hands, it will
move around
and writhe about
until it escapes
the best thing to do then
is throw it back into the water
if you put it in a bucket
it will flop until its strength is gone
and eventually die.

***


I suppose the only option then is to go swimming

Pair

Rainy day

On this rainy day
I watched futures
splatter against the pane
the results of which were
greater than the sum of the parts.

On this rainy day
I and the elements
beheld each other with contempt
and in the end
I triumphed against them.
---

Collection

I am on fire some days
with a heart that is raw
and as real
as a beggar
the bigger the better
the eyes and the wetter
they get
the further apart that we sit
If we grew up together
and knew from the start
a collection of pasts
that we shared
would the future be different?

Streams

It races along
Gurgles
Rages
Surges
Cascades
And yet
It's mild in some places
It's deep
Clear
Unpolluted
Inviting

I could sit beside your stream of consciousness
for a long while.

Honeysuckle

Honeysuckle

Your eyes stop me in my tracks
and my breath slips out of my grasp
when the
corners of your lips start turning up
they do the same to mine

Your hair up against my cheek
is a honeysuckle summer by a creek
There is
nothing I have ever known that's half as wild
and so serene as being with you girl
if only for a moment

So
take
me to July
and
make
the summer sky
break
I swear that I
am yours
if you will have me
and I'll still let you be wild
flower
Honeysuckle

Your laugh lingers in my ears
like the sweetest lullaby a baby hears
Let me
listen to the music
in the timbre of your voice
I have no choice but to believe in magic

So
take
me to July
and
make
the summer sky
break
I swear that I
am yours
if you will have me
and I'll still let you be wild
flower

Take
me to July
and
make
the summer sky
break
I swear that I
am yours
if you will have me
and I'll still let you be wild
and I will still be wild
Honeysuckle

Lion

"What can man do against such reckless hate?"
"Ride out with me; ride out and meet them"

-LOTR, The Two Towers

Lion

There is fire inside of this soul
there's a message
A discord that's out of control
mercenary
An animal caged
there's a lion enraged
and the tethers are starting to strain

Give me something to fight for
I am a force to be reckoned with
I have a strength
and a will
and a clenched fist
put in my heart a direction
and I will deliver your flag
in a moment

Headed west

I headed west in pursuit
of two hearts.

Mine, and one
belonging to a girl
with eyes as green
and deep
as her river.

After a very deliberate time
I managed to come close
and even touch them both.

But they, like the fleet-footed hind
ultimately eluded me.

I have concluded this:

If either would have
surrendered itself,
been apprehended
in such an expedient manner
it would mean
I am deceived
in my convictions
as to how wild
and how good
they both are
and how worth the chase.

Monuments

I saw a cloud today in the infinite blue

it lingered for a moment

a fragile wisp

before evaporating

leaving only a negative retinal memory

when I closed my eyes

the only monument to its

ever having existed

How ironic.

That cloud, (when one considers

the system it is a part of)

has done more for humanity

than many of the so-called

'great men' of our time

who are remembered

in lasting ores

inanimate witnesses to their accomplishments

and all the cloud got

was this poem.

Whispering Jesse- John Denver

I often have wandered in deep contemplation,
It seems that the mind runs wild when you're all alone.
The way that it could be, the ways that it should be.
Things I'd do differently if I could do them again.
I've always loved spring time, the passing of winter.
The green of the new leaves and life going on.
The promise of morning, The long days of summer,
warm nights of loving her beneath the bright stars.

I'm just an old cowboy from high Colorado, too old to ride anymore, too blind to see.
I sleep in the city now, away from my mountains, away from the cabin we always called home.
I dreamed I left there on an old palomino. Whispering Jesse rode right by my side.
I long to hold her, to hear her soft breathing, the touch of her cool hand on my fevered brow.

Whispering Jesse still rides in the mountains, still sings in the canyons, still lives in my heart.

September

When I look back
on you and I
and water guns
and summertime
I swear the way
you looked at me
September days
will never be
the same
or even ever be
as warm as you were
next to me

We ran away
from who knows what
to find a place
where we could touch
each others hearts
with fingertips
that memorized the look I saw
within your eyes, the hook and draw
was more than I could bear
and I was taken in
over my head
don't try to fight
relax instead
Your face
when next to mine
is like a place
I only find sometimes

I am at home
when I am next to you

Newborn

Where I'm going
is a young sight
for old eyes.
Once jaded, callous
Glazed
Now open and eager
Face lifted up, turned into the wind
A newborn day
appears over the mountains
The midwife night
slowly pulls away
and surrenders its gift
into my anticipating arms.
-------------------


Edit: An older poem on the same topic from years ago..



Epiphany

Mourning
tears of sadness fall
from eyes ashen
and changing into
Morning
rays of sunlight peer
from aft
blue tainted ridges.

Postcard from my morning (a night by the ocean)

Wish you were here.

The humid air inside this nylon cocoon

is suffocating.

The stale lingering scent of yesterdays adventures

fills my nostrils

as the crass squawking of gulls

entrenched in their bitter disputes just outside

fades into my consciousness-

I've been awake for a while now

and I wish you were here.

Moving only my eyes, I spot my comatose tent-mates

Silent, stoic, unmoving

as horizontal Buckingham redcoats.

Why am I still lying here

the world tilts 90 degrees

Fumbling for my clothes, my hands scuff against

billions of tiny unwelcome guests

gritty ambassadors of the cloudy Atlantic

and I am dressed

zzzzzzzzzzzz goes the perpetually disagreeable zipper

I clumsily make my way outside

scaring the white winged sea-gypsies

(they go scuttling away, protesting loudly)

I make my way to the ocean

The sunrise pours over me, into me

The salty breeze fills my lungs

Serenity

I wish you were here

Moving on

The spider spins a lonely web
My friend the guitar sits quietly in the corner
and you could write your name
on those pictures there
The rafters creak
the beams settle
the plaster cracks
father time makes love to mother earth-
and I am moving on.

The way things were at one time
is like a season
while it's here, you yearn for the next
until it is gone
Only in the heat of summer
do you fully appreciate the coolness of spring
and only in the dead, cold, barrenness of winter
do you miss the color of fall-
I am moving on.

Blood diamond/ spiritual application

It seems nowdays that scarcely any profound truth or message of any value is to be found in the media, but tucked in the dialogue of BLOOD DIAMOND I have found something that caught me off guard with its simplicity.

"I know they made you do bad things, but you are not a bad boy; I am your father who loves you, and you will come home with me and be my son again"
---
"I know they made you do bad things, but you are not a bad boy".
Though we are sinners through and through and have done unspeakable transgressions against the law of God, His blood covers us and releases us from the guilt and subsequent fate we deserve.

"I am your father who loves you, and you will come home with me and be my son again"
Wow. Could you say it any clearer? In the scene where this line is said, the father (Solomon) has just traveled several days, endured countless perils, been threatened, beaten, shot at, cut, basically put his very life on the line for the sake of being united with his son (whom he was seperated from at the beginning of the movie during a violent raid on their village).

All this for a son who had been kidnapped, brainwashed, and forced to be a brutal killer. How much more then, is the love of our heavenly father towards us! How much greater is His pursuit for His wayward children. Though we have done terrible things, He still chases us and begs for reconciliation; and much of the time, we aren't even aware that we're the subject of a dangerous mission in hostile territory to save our helpless wretched skins.

There were many more spiritual parallels I drew during the course of the movie, but to go into them all would be redundant, I just wanted to make this main point. If you wanna talk about it ask lol.. I never thought I would find spiritual insight in a movie, but I guess God uses a great variety of mediums to reach a listening heart : )

Have a good week!

Rough husband

There's a window here
where I sit
and outside is a contradiction
For you see,
there is nothing so warm and tender
(save for Eve)
as the way the morning sun
caresses the landscape.
However-
as warm, and bright as she burns
(referring to the morning)
it is January still
and earlier
as I left Maslow's first and second
my nostrils exported huge clouds
reminders of the season
for it would seem that
if my morning is a beautiful woman
January is her rough husband

Haikus

In search of a four leaf clover

I am bewitched by
your three emerald leaves
in my quest of four.

---

Paratroopers

Quick! There comes a force
of tiny paratroopers-
Dandelion fluff.

A girls heart

A girls heart is a slippery fish.
After you reel it in
if you try to hold it in your hands, it will
move around
and writhe about
until it escapes
The best thing to do then
is throw it back into the water
For if you put it in a bucket
it will flop until its strength is gone
and eventually die.

Beauty

Beauty is what beauty does

It’s not a face that age can rust

Whilst time and seasons

And mistrust

All eat away at beauty’s bust

The truth is, she is volatile

And ever-so-susceptible

To over-analyzation

Miscalculated observation

Beauty is what’s born inside

The heart of the beholder