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Were You Not Here
What more
would the morning bring,
than the trial
of another day
without you?
What more
would the day bring,
than the pain
of another evening
without you?
What more
would the evening bring,
than the cold emptiness
of another sleepless night
without you?
What more
would sleep bring,
than the dreadful task of waking up
to another morning alone
without you?
The fullness of your kiss
replaced by the harsh strain of a cigarette;
A listless pillow,
surrogate for the way you’d
wrap your legs around me.
The candle that flickers in your absence,
a poor, poor simile of your warmth.
cv
What more
would the morning bring,
than the trial
of another day
without you?
What more
would the day bring,
than the pain
of another evening
without you?
What more
would the evening bring,
than the cold emptiness
of another sleepless night
without you?
What more
would sleep bring,
than the dreadful task of waking up
to another morning alone
without you?
The fullness of your kiss
replaced by the harsh strain of a cigarette;
A listless pillow,
surrogate for the way you’d
wrap your legs around me.
The candle that flickers in your absence,
a poor, poor simile of your warmth.
cv
Awaiting The Tempest
Now it’s mood is gentle, the earth and all light
Welcomes it’s cooling hand.
With it is carried the smells and sounds
Of a thousand celebrations.
And here spinning; hung by the merest thread,
A glistening coral: Hope wrapped in fragile pearl waits.
Within this cocoon beats a flourishing dream,
Innocence supreme in its patience.
Fast it holds: delicate, slight-sheltered,
And fearful of the very force that soon
Shall be celebrated by the wing.
Breathe softly sweet breeze;
Lest your tempest break my shell.
cv
Now it’s mood is gentle, the earth and all light
Welcomes it’s cooling hand.
With it is carried the smells and sounds
Of a thousand celebrations.
And here spinning; hung by the merest thread,
A glistening coral: Hope wrapped in fragile pearl waits.
Within this cocoon beats a flourishing dream,
Innocence supreme in its patience.
Fast it holds: delicate, slight-sheltered,
And fearful of the very force that soon
Shall be celebrated by the wing.
Breathe softly sweet breeze;
Lest your tempest break my shell.
cv
Stargazer
i have something to say, but how?
i to use i word, i frame?
i thumbprint, i brushstroke,
i movement in vain?
i to speak or hold i breath
And take i story to i death?
I is nigh; I shall fly. Here is I begun