Def Poetry #20

silently smiling i left-

and deftly your words crept

up and slept in my brain

displacing the swept complaints

of inept restraints i had placed

to chase away the wept afraids

and on my walk i heard your words talking

in their sleep

awakening the happy feelings hidden deep

braiding the time and place

to secure a more solid pace

imminent release of the rise and fade

and the sunlight from the shade

plays across your face

in this memory of that smile that spread,

in our shared bed

lazily lingering, your fingers

still give chase in the hair on my neck and the back of my head

and i still can feel the press of your lips

and the warmth of your body displaced

into mine and mine slipped into yours

and yours slips into my mind

i smile and walk silently by

day dreaming my life, as it takes its real shape

the black and white lens of this embrace

provides escape from the thoughts that race

and your hands

have walked the small of my back

and back to their home in my own

and i've seen the place in your eyes

where there is no black

just the brightest of light

and as our lips press so tight

an understanding grace falls slightly-

and in that profound sound of silence smiling

i begin to think that you and i, we got it right

or it got me right

or it got us right

yeah it got me the right motivation

the motive elation of the momentous

anticipation

and in these moments i masquerade in movement

so momentary like laughter in times of maturation

and surely i'm shared in this jubilation.

for living in this life has been breathtakin.

my breath has been takin

and i stand unshaken for the memories

in my mind are consistently insistent on replaying.

Def Poetry #19

I like the pace of the snowflakes,

falling in place on my mouth to taste your lips-

and each crystallized pattern, your hand,

as they graze my face

and the cold melts away

my thoughts start to race

the companions agree with my motive,

and this note is more than the words wrote-

its the way I feel as you press

your cheek to mine-

and when I look you in the eyes

and see past the past lives

that I've looked at to find

this

If I could hold this place in time forever

I would-

for feeling this infinite is to fleeting for whenever

and if I were more clever

I'd find a more connotative means to write this letter

but my pen is running low on ink

and I think I feel the sands of

sleep beginning to sink into the

lids of my eyes-

and the corners feel the solid

but they also feel warmer

for another day, holds another chance

to hold her.

and the dreams of tonight

promise sweet flight to the arms

of the sunrise and the breaking

sight of the sky and the light.

drab or dreary clouds are not proud enough

to stab and weary or shroud the feelings of this time-

and the weather merely separates

the short walk to your place and my place

in your arms and yours in mine.

redundantly apparent I feel further than fine.

I don't know how else to convey

the way I feel when our fingers intertwine.

I spied a boy,

lying on his back

who raised his hand

and with one finger, traced the outline of his view.

I spied a man

lying on his back

I raised my hand

And he, with one finger, traced the outline of his view

That man was me

And he likes himself

and the boy he was

he likes the sunshine, and the clouds he likes

warm smiles and conversation (difficult conversations too)

he likes

haikus, and coffee mugs, wearing sweaters scaring sweaters and

off beat hugs.

received from anyone who will give them

he likes truth and the word quest

and questing for truth and

finding out that its okay.

he likes the beginning of seasonal depression

( not the entirety of that endeavor for the weather shouldn't have that much control)

He likes his soul.

he likes sharing it with others.

he likes himself and he is content.

with life spent in wealth of great company

proudly astounded at the sights he sees

he cant mistake this take on gravity

to address the situation

so I'll be spied

lying on my back.

I'll raise my hand.

And with one of my fingers, trace the outline of my view.

And then i'll probably smile.

Def Poetry # 18

so take me to your secret room

hidden away from noise

and scents of all the life

where your kinds girls and mine are boys

and we both just get on fine

yeah we both just get on fine

cause i got your hand and im holdin on

blind through the willowed walk

of birches bows tangling in the emergent layer

praying to be spared like tires and into the evening

our jaunt continues.

i stop chasing you

and you turn and smile

and then you run away

and thats fine

yeah thats fine

cause its your secret room

not mine

so i've got to find the way

all my own. but thats fine too

there really isn't much that isn't anymore