The light I wait for

There is this color that I wait for

when the time of day is right

Gold…just isn’t deep enough and honey is too dark I think

it is a kind of game the light plays, a sort of smile that every building shares whenever

it’s that time

Like a girl I see in town who’s name I have to know

and every time a tired sun surrenders

there she is

like the first time

people gathered in their lawn chairs

women walked onto the grass, high heels in hand

a songless band of faces looking up and waiting for the moon to block the sun

and me, in love with sunsets unimpressed

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Twice Folded

I am just a poem

you scribbled onto paper with a dying pen.

I tear a little,

crinkled in the pocket of your jeans.

how strange that we’d be tied this way

that you would share your soul with paper

just to hide it from the world

that today

like you and I

feels muted and twice folded

You’re getting ashes on my daydream

“You’ll get sick standing out there,”

they yelled back from the break room

and there’s a suffocating irony that smokers

are the only ones to step outside for air

but this cold has a life to it that’s easier to breathe,

a healing chill that bears the scent of evergreens

like young lovers flaunting their perfume,

flirting with the frozen air,

a whispered promise of a wilderness of untouched snow

waiting for my footprints.

These daydreams carry me, a wandering soul

orphaned by absentminded Love

And days like this your image slips in

quietly like guests late for the play.

I can feel you in my mind always in the aisle seat,

your electric smile among an audience of cutout dolls

with cardboard faces,

half illuminated,

waiting for the show to start.

From this stage I see your breath

as though you brought the cold inside with you,

snow melting at your feet.

How long were you waiting by my footprints

filling them with ashes from your Camel Lights

or did you just step outside for air?

choirs in the sky

and even in this rain I still search the sky for stars

the way our hands can find our faces in the dark

but only if our eyes are closed

And even now that ancient choir chants it’s gospel

through curtains of silk and glass

Through thin emptyness

the sanctuaries of impossible infinities

Light from the beginning,

scorching darkness with it’s dying embers

let these dim notes kiss your ears

and turning from your sleep you’ll ask

“where have I heard this song before?”

just what we can carry

You’ve heard the voice of Night so many times
lying in the dark, thinking with your eyes closed, searching for a dream
that looks and feels like morning.
Time needs a place to put the memories when all the dreams are full.
You’ve tucked and folded all of them but just can’t force the zipper shut
spilling on the floor left for another day
the piles of yesterday you can’t take with you.
Those clothes no longer fit and there’s no need to make more space for
them, but we never kept our balance well
without the past to lean against.
Some gloves are only made whole when there are
fingers pushing through them
and I can keep yours warm…
so hold my hand and leave the rest behind
my car just might be big enough to fit what baggage we can carry

of love and vinyl

I only want to live inside the season that your laughter makes
If I could gather all those moments set a blaze by my regret
If I could lift them from their ashes as if no real harm had come to them
I would play them like old records til they skipped and even then…
I’d let their music fill this room, leak out through my windows,
flood the streets
with sound and reckless joy that ricochets off roof tiles, slides down windshields…soaks the bricks
until nothing can escape that feeling we unleashed
the day the sun forgot to set
dancing with our laughter

Chemistry

There was this space at first, separating words
the nervous tap of fingertips against the polished wood
that stretched into the distance like…
hard miles that mock each labored step to reach your conversation
and you remember how the seconds starved for questions
like dry cracked soil for rain?
But then we kept talking as the night let down her hair
and gave us both her blessing
until every smile, and laugh, and sigh was a reflection in your empty glass when all the beer was gone.

 

The Perfect Green

sometimes I think it sings to me
it finds me in that place where my thoughts wander through the halls like ghosts
dancing in the faded twilight of another disappearing dream
that’s where I hear that melody..that feels like sweet forgotten
woods..the tender shuffle of a lover’s fingers through your hair
parting like grass that lives only to bend
and that’s the way I hear her song, burning in the neon light
that perfect green
a secret her eyes keep for me

7:30 State of Mind

because in the movie she was sitting by the water as the sun came up
full of thought the sunlight bathed her being and she seemed almost
cleansed by it
the sunrise reached out through the screen as if it had something to say

because driving home i flipped through stations humming to that same
ole song she always got the words wrong to
forgot how much that made me laugh…and all those times I made her cry

because tomorrow I go back to work and they’ll ask me what I did today
and I don’t want to lie again
when these days all I do is sleep until the dreams run out of things to say

because i had the gas to get me there
the wet slap of feet is how our skin exhales
the salty air can save your life when you’ve been poisoned by the asphalt

running down the water’s edge half naked as a nervous smile
to greet the sun as she wakes up
I think she has a message for me

There is a place for rainy days
like a piano in the corner only one person can play
with smoke stained ivory keys that fill the room with sound and reverence.
Tapping fingers on the whiskey glass that brings the spicy aftertaste
of memories
the sweet burn of a mis-remembered joy.
It lives inside the gray of things
tapping on the roofs and glass, speaking in rhythm
like an ancient tongue that only lives in song now
lost in translation, but resonating with a certain feeling
all too soon forgotten
until next time..