Write

I would wish to write

About all that is and was

Tell my stories like a flowing stream

And let those flows heal my scars

I would that I had that talent

And could but let go

Of all that has welled up inside

Just to know that I can say

What is deep in my soul

So that others can look at me

And see

Who I really be

That would mean everything to me

That would make me feel

So complete

I wish I could weave the words

Till I could catch your heart in

My softness

And wrap it slowly, softly

Inside my bosom

I wish I was a poet who could

Sample the words

With art and guile

Waving them wantonly around

Until we could be found

I would write the pain and love

Of a thousand generations

And tell such a story

That the people would

Become raptured

And fall into the wordscape

That I have woven

Alas I would like only

That you fall into my words

Into my love

And that my weaving would be

Naught else but the cover

Of our love

the sun in my eyes

I would like to say

Just where in my heart you lay

But I seem to have lost

Those elegant words

As if I have paid some terrible cost

I would like to say the words that would make you tremble

And curl against me till the end, as a one assemble

how slowly some alchemy was worked

how fearfully we confessed

to drink ourselves together

when we walked that castle

and had to be so quiet that time

and I smile, and I sigh

it is the last call

for love’s alcohol

What can I say ?

When I close my eyes and see

how you touched me the first time

looking back in the fast train

and hid in the sand

found love in the glade

door opening and me falling

but alas

my poems

my prose

soft like a sea borne breeze

I have dried

all the mind’s ink,

as if gone from my insides

washed away with our heart tides

my muse has gone..

So what is left me darling ?

To say some beautiful things

Weave a spell of my mind to you

To tell you where you live

Inside of me

Maybe I should better just cease

Because the most beautiful words

Are maybe the ones that we left unsaid

The way that the wind blows

carelessly your hair is the most wonderful

or the way we made the painting so

as we lay unleashed in the steam

can I ever make words that will paint those things

can I ever craft them painlessly

so that we can remember ?

I think not

I will not

And so my love

When I should say goodbye, I say love

And when I should walk away, I stay

My goodbyes are not tomorrow

They are for words un spoken that we would never bear to say

They are for warm reunions

That by the waste side have

Been fed

What we were, will be

What was, can be this way

Follow me

Or be free

The Drawing

I will draw her beauty

And what is inside too

When I touch the paper I close my eyes

And think of my fingers

Slowly touching her

I grasp my pencil

As if to caress it..

And drift it across the surface

I want to see her in that perfect

Moment.. when

The steam

Rising around her

Laying draped on the tiles

Like some oriental, languorous woman

As if I have stolen into the harem

I want to describe for all the world to see

For her to see, or perhaps be

For me

The look in her eyes..

But how to transcribe what lays behind ?

Those unanswered questions

That we sought only to glean

Trepidations that have blossomed

With her passion..

Can we really ever stay there ?

Or do we just have to remember ?

The slow soft touch

Half opened

…looks

Or the wet urgency of our hopelessness

I wish the masters could see

And then create there final

Work

My fantasy

The lover holding her..

In his ever leaving arms..

Like the sunset

We can never describe,

Or the words that we have inside our head

That fear the paper..

And then.. I open my eyes..

How can I draw these things ?

As I look to the virgin picture

Like an afterglow in my eyes.. the image

Slowly fades…

And I know I will have to find inside

Of my heart.. in the soul of my ancestors

the strength

To try.. and caress this page

The leaves

The leaves today fall

I thought we still had days before

Winter would be here

I wished to make those summer days

Last just a little while longer

I see them scattered across my path

And though I can never do the math

I am sure they wished to fly to some

Far, far off place

whispering to each other, come, oh come..

And then me too.; I wander in this hall

I hoped that there were still days before

We could welcome fear

I would to walk some more on these ways

Last just a little while longer

And I scatter our leaves along the path

And they float, twirl without any wrath

I am sure they wished to fly to some

Far, far off place

whispering to each other, come, oh come..

I know that my story has been told before

And that I have no new words to express

What I have inside

What I mean to bear

In these lines

Maybe we

Are really

Just all the same

But I could not but help

As the dying leaves

Living their last

Wafted near me

To think of you, see

So let me tell you once again

Scattered along the leaves’ wild, brown path

We have felt and done loves’ simple math

so I only wish to fly to some

Far, far off place

whispering to each other, come, oh come..