What I want
more than anything
is to be
happy with myself
when I’m alone
I’m just not
there quite yet
I want to
learn to be
that one tree
at the top
of the hill
with the swing
which sways in
the brisk winds
of winter creaking
and remembering summer
Category: Love
NoMoreGuests
I’ve finally reached
the age where
I deserves me
and where others
have to wait
and of which
some will knock
few will enter
I know this
brand of happiness
is my reaction
to those who’ve
entered as guests
only to eat
all I had
and leave without
cleaning their mess
no more guests
and even better
no more garbage
Trees
I wonder if
the trees remember
I wonder if
they ever think
now where’d they
go that they
haven’t been back
whether it’s leaves
or lovers beneath
I wonder if
when I look
upon the trees
if they remember
for I do
I most certainly
do remember them
such are trees
NoMoreSpring
I can’t do love
again I thought maybe
but now I know
I just don’t have
it in me anymore
I never really thought
but now I do
that love comes with
costs that somehow changed
between ordering and eating
and no doggy bags
once over now done
I don’t know if
love bounces back eventually
not maybe with him
not maybe with anyone
I just now think
that I’ll never as
the elasticity of heart
has lost its spring
LetMeThisOnce
Let me paint you
draw you with words
as I remember you
not as you are
a long elegant plank
of deep rich ebony
found deep within tree
hiding there behind others
blemished of course front
and back with two
ivory burls that almost
blink as sun catches
and a velvety hand
which all but cascades
like the rain itself
into the deep pools
of your darkened hips
and what’s found there
disappears into cloudy blackness
but what I remember
most is the warmth
whilst I lay upon
as though your timber
absorbed the sun itself
