He wanted only to speak
her language
enough time to say hello
remember
all the times the language worked
this accommodation today
seems shallow
unforgiving.
Seems he forgot how
her
language can define our
lives.
© Scott F Savage 12/2021
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Tag: her
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Speaking To Her
Posted at 11:57 am , on December 22, 2021
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This Woman I Knew
Posted at 12:24 am , on November 21, 2021
Trying to prove to himself
nothing at all
well, so having been
done, before.
Would it seem likely
everything he stood for
could easily wash away with the street salt
an overnight rainstorm.
Everything that was is now,
a memory we will all tell
our grandchildren
when we know them …
we understand them.
There’s this story out there
I’ve always been afraid
so stark is our humanity
caught in its own rainstorm
a thunder clap away!
I wanted her to want me
as badly as I needed to give.
All I joined into was a fantasy,
indeed so lovely,
to write a script
of our own version of
Washington Square,
with the windows and eyes
and love.
There was love
© Scott F Savage 11/2021
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She Wrote A Song
Posted at 3:03 am , on June 11, 2021
She wrote a song while in a dance
a sinewy figurine.
We watched from near the entrance,
a place that held our dreams.
The shadows round a dance floor show
a silence would we mean.
Our lives belong in harmony
yet always we do scream.
I wondered about her eyes that night
the tears began to scream
I couldn’t fix just anything
I should have stayed alone.
Tonight I’ll know the love we may
can only find the time.
©️ Scott F Savage 6/2021
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Dark Alleys
Posted at 6:30 pm , on July 13, 2020
Can a person feel this
the moment the clouds gray,
we choose an ominous melody
help us find our way,
so we believe,
we step inside,
the initial stench of picked through
trash bins,
occasional alcohol
shattered against the brick,
our lives are a vulnerable
shadow in a foul smelling
haunting atmosphere.
If I might describe
the hours of my day,
I would find myself
hiding in some place
with cardboard
in that classic manner,
letting me disappear,
yet wondering who are they
outside my sound,
that would rather step on my
produce trashed cartons
instead of knowing how
eye
lost my way.
It is inside the dark recess
of my mind,
that I simply wish so often
to go away,
yet it is also
her
own fascination with love
keeps me still
eternally
wanting to
‘be’
© Scott F Savage 7/2020
the ‘b’ series
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If I Could
Posted at 5:08 am , on December 22, 2019
When I walked along a path
yesterday,
I hadn’t thought about the season
the changing winds
that would a tear in my eye provide
allowing me to feel,
to know to fear, to contemplate a time
when I would alone
the forest brush underneath my soul
my heart in a constant …
I wonder about the changing winds
tonight the longest
stretch of darkness in the sky.
I’m awake to feel it all,
to know only my dreams in surround
while the earth on axis
moves to the spacial element of time
my mind thinks on her
sweet darkness let me forever pine.
I love the changing season
© Scott F Savage 2019
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Find You In My Dream
Posted at 6:42 pm , on December 20, 2019
A jazzy melody plays,
quiet, austere, capable
state of mind,
an overture of wonder,
as wandering through the annals
of his mind,
his curiosity has kept him in a sort of
preoccupied state.
Imagine the waves on the lakeshore,
a ripple begins and grows and heaves … lays out
then returns in silent retreat,
the noise would be the landing space
after the heave,
the retreat might be a second thought,
the notion of what once was,
now having been,
and the onlooker, continues their stroll,
and the beat goes on …
So now he knows,
the sun has set again into a twilight
place where all of his dreams
become a constant reality,
this testing ground,
… whereby my sanity …
begins a common sojourn
a rhythmical commotion
chaotic as a dream
might send us reeling off a ledge
only to land inside the comfort of our own
sort of miracle,
that place where all of our fears
suddenly transpose the night
to begin yet another
fantasy
a wish, a yearn, a need
to venture forth with a smile,
so if in a quiet
she might notice
her energy will the cause,
this finality.
© Scott F. Savage 2019
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‘Silly Love Songs’
Posted at 7:11 pm , on December 10, 2019
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Speaking In Shadows
Posted at 10:43 pm , on November 29, 2019
There was a time when song seemed a natural path,
the flowers along a walkway glisten in the rain,
a shadow of fear lost upon a sunlit horizon
for everywhere we look might smile sweet love.
Wish that a melody could walk me in a forest
feel the natural scratch of brush along naked skin,
the rustling of autumn leaves give way to the cold
deadening nature of our forever changing season.
I wished tonight I could hear her voice again,
so many hours of wonder, of hope, when a tear follow
the natural course of life when lost inside a dream,
a hope, a passion, silent reminder of when, only then.
This common theme of grateful eyes, and distant fond
the grace of some familiar trail that would our eyes become
now a simple nostalgic fairy tale, that once could be believed,
would now be perhaps romanticized beyond our reality.
I wanted to hear you, to see you, to sense your presence near me,
oh to know the beauty of your elegance I once could hold so dear.
© Scott F Savage 2019
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It Was a Fantasy
Posted at 4:33 pm , on June 25, 2019
You said so
I said so
we agreed
turned toward reality
I said so
I plead so
you …
I could finish here
I would stop
yet, there is the break of day,
the stars at night,
the sounds of children playing
where everyone might.
I could return to home
live my life
age in an elegant fashion
always to be the friend,
to be conscious
self-aware
of the world, our society
always around us,
surrounds us.
One day,
you will be there,
and I,
in my world, my reality
will choose your world
for the truth is
I’d rather thrive in your fantasy.
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thoughts
Posted at 8:20 pm , on May 15, 2019
Today summer began, usually in the span of hours of the night. A day at work looking out into the sun cascading across the fields, anticipating the beauty of temperatures rising. Today, cleaned out the garage, took a bicycle ride, and now, sitting alone thinking about her. Summer …
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