May Time Gift Us

May Time gift us its Timelessness in Love

May the ardent awaken and share its want like it has been touched anew

May the wantings and yearnings become every so often rekindled

May the rosy tints adorn you lovingly however many shadows may loom

 May you at times replace maturity and its instilled propriety

for that irresistible rakish charm

May romance gather around leisurely

wreathing us once again with

that heady perfume of shared Happiness

May trials and troubles emerge as surmountable

As your hand still holds mine

As my heart still holds yours

 

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want/need

there are infinite enclosures

but only one that holds a heart secure

there are many blinking apertures

but only one seeks to stare

straight into the darkness

there are so many reasons to want

but there is only one way to need.

i’m stuck

i’m stuck
and don’t mind being so
i’m too afraid to move forward
and too afraid to stay behind
secretly i sigh that delays made, are out of my hands
but miserable that i will be left back.
the world’s most preciously deemed
i waste without outward regret
time and money galore
has gone and i bemoan the reason to need more
silently i must remain as in of me
meaninglessly dreading the decay
that seems only to point towards ruthless consequences
making my senses acute and numb and to sense no more
yet more aware am i of this urgent whisper of idle
as i am at the quickening and ever-knocking of my heart
and the foolish inability to do nothing more than to move forward
and remain tormentedly stuck…

humanize me

humanize me

so that i too can spend

my life worrying over

the pursuit green paper.

humanize me

so that i too can fight

battles over borders

not even visible in air.

humanize me

so that i too can know

fellows are only human

when they are not my enemy.

humanize me

so that i too can see

myself as another

who is just a better copy of me.

humanize me

so that i too shall know

of happiness pursued

but never attained…

The line

i cut into a line
and pin it in grime
until it wriggles
into a squirmy wormy squiggle
i swirl it
i whirl it
and ream it
into coiled little
curlettes
i call it unfit
i drag it through grit
and meticulously
sink it in puddles of spit
i bleed it
i pleat it
i read it
i bead it…quite taut
and when it is nearly down to a speck of a dot
i take out my inky filled pot
and gently begin to feed it
because beyond all doubt
i simply
just simply
need it.