Untitled Poem #174

thank you for saving me from freezing to death in the depths of my heart; any more pain would have frozen it through, making it so brittle that even a kind glance would have fractured it into too many pieces to restore to the glory I am warm in with you and a whole heart.

Untitled Poem #173

sometimes I finger the scars on my heart in the dark, all alone, rough ribbons of hardened tissue; they are braille lines of poetry; railroad tracks to remind me of my innermost fears. They feel almost skeletal, and read like the scriptures of God, and sting like the scorpions of God.

Untitled Poem #172

This inexplicable heaviness of my heart comes when it understands and the remainder of me doesn’t; yet it holds the responsibility, and everything else must follow.

Untitled Poem #171

wow Michael what a way to get back into writing in your poetry journal: a little scotch, a little blood, a little scotch in your blood, [a little blood in your scotch] and you’re back to begging that it’s all over.

Untitled Poem #170

lost in the dark, sometimes I sit down wherever I am and wait for the morning to come, stealing through the thick air and lightening the darkness, like highlights in your hair.

Untitled Poem #169

we write poems when our tongues tie together in my mouth, behind your lips; unspoken words like unnoticed snow in the shade of a tree in the high mountains.

Untitled Poem #168

the stars swim down through wicker-woven clouds to say goodnight to your beauty. I say goodnight to your beauty, too, though I wish I was a star like you, exploding over millions of miles or quietly winking from farther away.

Untitled Poem #167

I sing and I sing and I sing to you of dreams I’ve had and notions that came to me while I watched you sleeping and I sang them softly to you into the little cup of your ear which never overflows; it listens and holds all of my nonsense, but only while you’re sleeping. [...]

Untitled Poem #163

when the dew-drops poise on blades of grass I like to wait until they fall before I kiss your smooth brow when I must wake you from sleep.

Untitled Poem #162

yet, never alone, the company of those who flicker candle-flames always keep me entertained with wishing you were here.

Untitled Poem #161

no sleight of hand by any season could console me for the loss of your smile of girlish enthusiasm if a trick of my own has caused you some fleeting delight.

Untitled Poem #160

what is life without a smoke and a beer freely given and freely recieved like the love from your friends? life’s little joys to be consumed and forgotten in the moment. happiness tends to be transitory like the light zipping past you from the sun or one smoke and one beer when they’re done.

Untitled Poem # 159

the heart is a marvellous thing. it does not think with logic – it “thinks’ in magic so your mind usually takes a bit of time to justify what your heart says is right. meanwhile your heart is smiling and has its arms crossed over its chest, very comfortable especially if you’ve listened.

Untitled Poem #158

a spray of flowers erupting from a glass vase is a frozen firework of love from you.

Untitled Poem #157

a car travelling with my soul in the passenger’s seat: this is time and I watch fields of wheat breathe, amber waves of grain… an organ plays melancholy from a building and people pass, they do not hear, too busy looking down when I have stopped to listen for the sound of the wind: echoes [...]

Untitled Poem #156

each time I turn a page I wonder if it is already written – not like as in I’ve done this before or it’s something I’ve forgotten – but rather if Fate or Destiny has called and their webs are woven invisibly; the strokes of this pen color in what they’ve decreed delicately.

Untitled Poem #155

I now I know I love you when I heard you sad because of me; I realize things too late and make due with writing poetry to read or think on when I cannot call or hold you with me; my thoughts may wander briefly but I will always love you truly. II when did [...]

Untitled Poem #153

these poems are chunks of my mind; sometimes they’re raw and unkind, but they are always what I’m thinking even if (especially if) I’m drinking and I know I convice myself sometimes that I’m guilty of various crimes but when I see I’ve written that I don’t care is when I’m falling again into despair. [...]

Untitled Poem #152

big and small and sometimes with a tail that is clutched by twisting hands of nervousness I try to write like you do. no starting out with an I but statements that swing through the sky and sometimes like tuning a guitar they’ll rhyme.

Untitled Poem #151

there’s a shadow who lays on my windowsill from the crow who sits on the telephone wires and if I wasn’t home reading up your poetry I’d be out in a forest setting fires.

Untitled Poem #150

I can’t help thinking of what you’re writing my red-haired twin of poetry and sorcery; a pen and a sword are our two-fisted fighting, to roll back the sheets of what you and I’ll be.

Untitled Poem #149

A Druid has stood In the green of my woods, A forest of lines of verse. The light from her eyes Has given me my eagles Which soar through my nighttime skies. I hunt for the words As mice run from an owl And stand them in bowls; Bouquets of flowers to please me.

Untitled Poem #147

I can only know that time will tell me when I can be in love again – meanwhile, what do I do? love has struck me down and lifts me higher and higher each day is consumed in fire but I’m not quite sure for who. I am a poet – I dream and emotions [...]

Untitled Poem #146

I am free of ties to glide the skies and romp and play like a colt in a field of clouds and grass and care no less for life is a packet of sugar I eat while chatting with a pretty girl on the sidewalk where an ice cream cone has fallen and looks like [...]

Another Poem that is Untitled

I know that something’s changed, my bear’s stomach smells like you again but I’ll yell to myself. you come walking through my daydreams as if you were some travelling Indian who I must chase off my land. my hair’s getting long and in my face; both yours and mine, they’re red and brown like all [...]