We haven’t a wall,
a transparent existence rules our lives,
I can see you,
my eyes indicate an occasional
it’s when I miss you,
just by a moment,
when little time allows any clarification.
Forever inside a dream,
perhaps there is a truth in knowing,
reality is often bypassed,
when our lives,
in center stage,
become wrapped around a need,
logic will seem less apparent,
until finally the eyes,
return with willing grace,
find our lives in a looking glass.
Search for me please,
I’m across town casting a light,
a lovely sunset,
within spectacular waves,
define our horizon.
We might discover the same.
Yes I do glance
I look, I imagine,
I create in my mind a world,
set apart from anyone nearby,
because it is mine,
and only then,
can my freedom be defined.
She is of a certain memory,
a night sky filled with sweet energy,
the stars are reminders,
seek the constellations,
I have been in this place
I know I have because she
does cradle my anxiety in a
spectacular wave of
cool mountain breeze.
We all have
one time or another,
imagined that lovely vision,
the trigger of our soul,
to suddenly ask a heartache,
to recall just that one time,
when all eyes were elsewhere,
except ours for only a thought
might allow our hearts
an open reckoning
of the beauty inside,
that place so often forgotten,
when desire creates
a need for elegance
to step aside.
I’m working on a plan,
with every day, I know my routine,
it is safe,
well tucked away,
to the onlooker, it seems probably typical,
the normalcy of an American society,
yet, step inside my game,
and find a completely different world,
one in constant adjustment,
always needing to figure out a new plan.
See, recently, we
became a different enigma,
in a manner of speaking,
or even just thinking I suppose,
on our own,
not together in the sense of
any longer wanting the same things.
Though we do,
always want what is best for the other,
often sacrificing our own needs for the happiness,
that piece of ourselves
that brought us into each other’s arms
so many years ago today.
So it is a state of mind thing,
this learning how to live,
in a parallel universe,
seems difficult to touch upon
each other’s soul,
when just out of reach,
no longer sharing that desire
I love her,
yes, did I mention the other day,
when espousing on love,
it is designed in the elements so defined
in her beauty.
Oh, she does,
yes, and she can forever cast eternal light,
she may cause a certainty in my heart,
to bleed with every pore of possibility,
to explode with such a torrent,
buries all indication of question,
when in her eyes,
I can see a world that I truly might exist inside.
Oh she does,
yes she does sing the blues,
she will be the delicious drawn out melody,
that might settle my heart,
or let it speed so rapidly,
my world will not be contained
within the soothing nature of her sweet soul.
Yes, she does,
yes, oh my fire alone,
she can, will, may always
in her quiet reality,
a demeanor of delight,
it is this uncertainty we strive to omit,
in order to with little regret,
with a sensual twist of her lips,
see her, she is smiling,
I can tell
I love (her).
I took a walk today,
a quiet stroll along the river,
lush leaves in a deep valley,
very little of anything.
What is it happens when two souls,
meant to share time,
do experience a fresh rainfall, wet leaves
while the journey continues
there isn’t a word shared, in fact there is
I wonder if now might be anything like the same …
We do take walks together,
we stroll into a sunlit summer
our eyes do search for one another,
all the time,
we know our lives are meant a freedom.
Now, the twilight speaks to mind,
wonder about her,
curious about him and the evening,
It is always that way we both agree,
there is a time when our walk will be
There’s a rain steady,
keeping indoors the traveler
whom might be seeking the wood,
may stroll along the coast,
skipping rocks, switching thoughts,
contemplating the beauty around them,
the coffee shop,
holds promise to the conversations
around that though similar, seem different,
contain stories all the same,
their worlds are always different,
in the context of their moments,
until we can catch each other’s eyes.
We wonder about the people next door,
a table nearby our own private world,
did they speak of it,
were they aware,
was there a time in their lives when everything,
seemed similar, possible, simple,
perhaps it is true,
they say it often enough to never forget,
we’re all the same,
we haven’t any lead on the element of change
the human condition might experience the same,
euphoric wonder built upon manifest tragedy.
I was sitting along with my company,
my world against hers,
together we were watching our own world,
responding to the elements in a unique fashion,
yet still, very still, almost
in a sort of decopaged setting,
to be measured in someone else’s eyes,
for they are the judge of this life,
we are simply the portrait.
A stillness in the air,
while we wait the rains,
they might part to give allowance
to nature’s Grace in the wooded freedom
of a dense forest,
away from all wander of deception.
While I stood inside the sidewalk cafe,
I watched the people around me,
create lives of envy,
to balance those of misfortune,
whose measure relied upon me,
or my own eyes, or their’s or someone
with similar passion.
Yet in all of our sightings,
there seems only one reality.
We have these imaginations,
they are a fuel to our sometime need to be real,
to compel ourselves by a photograph
to maybe believe, such a setting to be true.
We do look the part, the perfect world,
a smile, a posture, held hands, eyes that cannot
tell a lie,
at least in this single moment.
There are the occasions that call for such a facade,
an instant moment when the story belonged
far elsewhere than did the
immediacy of a setting.
Perfect worlds, imperfect settings,
though the human condition
survives all moments beyond a mindful
reaction to our own certain circumstance.
My perfect world today, is far away from celluloid,
it is in the immediacy of her eyes, the ones I dream about
in a setting I choose to believe,
is in an eternal moment, her moment … hers is love.