My love awaits for you at dusk
It’s clinging to a street lamp
It’s wrapped around the pole
It’s arching and aching to be held again by you
The wind sweeps down the cobble streets
The cars whistle and beep
But my heart stays heated and still,
while waiting at dusk for it’s upkeep.Remind me again the day is done
And dreams of night are leased to us once morePress your nose upon my cheek
Dig your lashes on my lid
And let your lips be slightly wet
And the air you release hint a layer of a cold draft over the warmth of your words.
And lightly,
oh please lightly and slow
lean in and tell me again and again
what I long for no other man to recite once moreLike the nights possibilities
We are the only writes to the ode of the next twelve hours
So lets,
Make it a love story
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Make it raw and leave it panting out
satisfied and never out of breath.Leave with me now inside twilight
Inside the hues of what was always made to be marveled at.
Be
Better
Better than this
Better than all the things I have put into a place of belonging
instead of stowed away so long in the longing.
I believe it is time to think of the inside of the box
So I can again explain to others where all the corners crept in me a reason to crawl out.
I believe it’s time to stand wedged inside the hour glass, and be uncomfortable as I wait to teeter off underneath the sand inside the heavier state.
It’s time for heavy.
It’s time to loosen up the collar of expectation
and allow what really must be said to flow
and mourn the perks of what biting our tongues does to the complexion and glow.
It takes
It takes so little
It takes everything
While it takes so little to take.
He can get away
And he does
Get away
On oh so little
While taking it all
He says three words
Three small words
And there it goes
Out the door
Along with those words
My heart
Oh my heart
It takes
It takes so little
It takes everything
While it takes so little to take it.
(I said that. He already left.)
People should care, because if they didn’t
It would mean
That all the past times you allowed yourself the sweet indulgence of giving a major fuck,
It was for nothing.
We should be kind to one another
Because we are disappearing as we currently fail to speak in the bitting of tongue to cheek.
We are loosing each other with or without the grasp
So why not just hold tight while the bending burns the breaks
We should try,
Not to prove points
But rather to stretch out and manipulate a given lot of time
and turn waste into meaning
into breaths
into dreams
into connection
hope
clarity that arises from doubt…
Let your friends
let all the mystic strangers
and passengers towed in life with you be
with you
and be with them back.
Find reason for this
and if you search and find nothing
Let this be your loaner reason
Creation.
Do the way you came.
Leave the way you lived.
Be all you have ever known honestly.
Replicate the universe in which you are only a part of.
Express yourself as every living thing does.
The tree knows the one way to go
and does so without dramatics or complaining.
So go now.
Grow.
Become the height you were trusted to soar to.
Do not cut another person, who is depending on your shade - short.
(This is a Poem from my second Tumblr account http://thankuforthat.tumblr.com/ please follow)
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It’s in the way they talked
and switched positions
and erased time well spent
The way the relationship takes a turn from the day
and settles into the nearest cooled off shadow
quickening it’s signals to no longer stay
It’s in the way it’s fleeting
in the passing of you by
In the way it tugs to remind you that it really once existed
when you are doubled over in a low exclusive cry
It all will abandon
It all will take a little with
It all will meet you again a few times
Towards the nearing of a cliff
Fall into them
and it
and everything
anyway
It is after all
the only way we’ve ever known how.
In the tick of a clock
landing on a new minute till now never known
In the sound of people fighting off in the distance
a breeze coming in, setting off a smacking sensation
- the kind that really wakes you back up
inside the slow paced days
in between buildings you frequent
and streets you forgot where and when you memorized
Ah yes
that is where the birthing midwife awaits
ready to greet all the memories that are now being written and settling in to place
in the movements of a mouth yawning
in the quirks and small unique ways ancient lovers flirt in the sun
wrapped in the nothingness
between blank night and spilled over dreams
in it all
every bit of every smallest thing.
I said that - while co-creating
It happens that way
We’ll die in the middle of sentences
Births
And along side more deaths
No matter how it happens
It won’t be completely unordinary
And that makes it all the more mysterious and unique
And worth it, I suppose
We will die the same eyes shut
Then never to flutter again
We will however Not live the same
And that will make all the difference
The familiarity in our exits are to comfort us
As our individuality is spent in designing the circumstances of our days here
The ways in which we choose to fill them up
And the things we leave behind inside the ones still telling out our story after
we go
Be mindful of the tone the only author to your story,
relays every encounter and every chapter of your one and only collection of days
I said that. (in chapter 8)
I let them in
I gave too much
I hung my mouth open
Long enough let sit in the rust
I followed through with opening up my branches and watched fall leave from the trees
Overexposed now
Branches to twigs
Like a bird without wings
They came and took the flight beneath me.
I said that (after they came in)
If I could go back
I’d build us a moat
To keep us protected from all we need most
We are left trapped inside
The ties that we needed at the time
And now that we are strong
We dried up and went wrong
We are dust falling through some new lovers hands who
Remind me of all we built just to loose
Castles by the sea
Swept us up off our feet
Stomped back into the earth
Our story never again able to show off it’s struggle up to worth.
I said that (buried alive)
And then you just do it
you grow up, and further away from the umbilical joy
the eased smile
the cheap fun
the high expectations in everyone and everything to come
because after enough friends die
and after you watch yourself enough times, do all the things you swore you never would…
after you spend enough time with every friend to watch them melt into ordinary disappointment
and every lover leave pain that outlast the relationship.
you start to just accept this
it is with permission your body signals the letting go of the hold
and the process begins
the aging and the spots and the lines drawn to mock every past grin setting in
like a clown that is no longer laughing
painting on this deep and frightening exaggeration
You become
the joke.
you cradle the darkness and clench on to its cloak
wearing your badge of madness, as it is the only thing gone right
and ride this last wave in
crashing onto a shore you could care less about.
like everything else you swam out to sea from
you couldn’t swim far enough to want to turn back
so you turn your back, and feel happy being cut from everyone you’ll never loose again.
I want to write.
But sometimes life is so serious
That it makes the words you need to use to tell the story seem so out of line.
And this quiet voice inside you, tells you to “grow the fuck up”So all you can do is wait
to give yourself permission to feel again
and to feel so much that you out argue yourself through all the slides of offense
and write pages and pages of nothing
and just the act alone, will mean everything.
Like Neil Young’s “heart of gold”
Bukowskis poem “the crunch”
Taco shops in San Diego
And the weight and feel of your touchSome things they can’t take with them
They belong to the lovers that did all the fallingI may never know the singer the drunk or the recipe that makes up you
But I kept that brief moment
The warmth of it, the stain
Worn on me still
From the days I thought I knew intimately everything.
I am happy because I want to be. Happiness has never been so complicated. It takes so many steps and so many lessons and incarnations…to be brave enough for basics.
It was midnight
But it didn’t matter
Something ancient was waking up inside me now
And after so many days of playing with the weegee board
I’d be damned if I was going to sleep through the reunion of my own ghost.
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