If sky could speak
a pretty melody play.
Stand outside and look,
look higher, feel the wind
play upon naked skin.
In this moment
your marvelous eye.
A radiant blue,
a promise for you.
©️Scott F Savage 3/2022
If sky could speak
a pretty melody play.
Stand outside and look,
look higher, feel the wind
play upon naked skin.
In this moment
your marvelous eye.
A radiant blue,
a promise for you.
©️Scott F Savage 3/2022
A glance into my evening parade
the thought police, the reminders,
what we were, wanted to be,
what we are today, who,
I can never really tell anymore.
But I wait for the moon, sleek
across a twilight sky,
I’m with you, me, we too
we are one in nature’s incandescent
dance in a gallery
stars inside
crying hearts.
Haven’t a place to begin
sorting through old tapes.
The aftermath,
sometimes would chase me in
leaving little remaining wrath,
only hope and peace but running laps.
Haven’t found a solution
only a quiet, a reckoning.
I forget where I am
hand slides across cheek
eyes narrow on the paper
and the tides sweep.
Play with hair, caress …
a human
only realizes themselves
after a
moment
they call it only another
minute ago.
We all live inside the aquarium,
yeah, you know three squares,
we can all dance a little slower.
This is life
we make it create it
as I walk down the street I can sense all around me
a hope and a prayer.
Times Like Now
I wish to do so,
almost every night,
suddenly capture your eyes,
a familiar visual you.
It’s all I have now
a memory of you,
used to leave me predictably
blue,
now a fondness,
now a blue,
I want to see you in my dreams,
walked with you last night.
I can feel you,
in my dreams.
I want though always to feel more.
© Scott F. Savage 1/2022
Because she walked in,
I felt her presence
overwhelm, other thoughts
disappear as now I search I am
in search of her eyes,
this presence I knew
I can feel when arctic air
chills my bones,
I suddenly understand again
where warmth will await.
© Scott F Savage 1/2022
If I could for a second, tell a story?
Ok …
Stood along an aisle, a lady
waiting upon her packages.
Out loud,
where’d they all go,
just a second ago;
and on paper he struggled
every word let go,
he could feel the strain in his fingers,
what are the words,
what does it matter.
~
Ok, so I let go there a little bit.
playing with psychology,
y’know, you see
trying to hold my own,
sort of thing, as well.
~
There are places that my mind travels that act as if they don’t exist at all.
~
Then suddenly it hits me,
like a telling slap in the side of the head.
Not the most pleasant reminder
of such is it you, the finder,
always late,
wishing to be the insider.
~
I am writing utter nonsense,
trying to make meaning of words,
ideas strung together in a sentence.
I am what I will make myself
self, out to be.
Follow along, we’ll see
if it’s you or me.
~
He looked outside his window
and saw a wall of angles, and triangles
and rooftops and similar pains.
This is where he lives,
he travels outside and finds
structure,
not of nature just this.
~
Oh to find solace
knowing and believing
something out there speaks
to that we question,
we don’t know,
we all exist on the same plane.
© Scott F Savage 1/2021
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
She stood against the window
light streaming
he imagined her naked form
a silhouette
in morning’s dawn.
He wanted her lips
to send him further
a passion in sunlight
so romantic my lament.
Her shoulders, his hands, his lips
tease her neck
shivers might send him
further
though slow now
tongue longing
wet taps, reminders upon her skin.
He would feel her face,
cheeks flush finding comfort
while her hands pulled close
she wanting only
to feel their own surreal passion
finding center
while the morning
burst into their lives.
©️Scott F Savage 12/2021
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
Telling my story while on my healing journey
They're mine, and yours 'cause our voice got lost somewhere in between. Welcome home...
So Dawn Goes Down to day
writings from my heart and soul
stories on adventure, and travel, and real life
Where Myths Are Maybe Real
Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.
poetry,writings,memories and more....
Concerning All Types Of Relationships
Children's book illustrator
Musings and books from a grunty overthinker
A Collaborative Mental Health Blog
A little bit of me, with a little bit of you. A little of the old mixed with the new. A little too loud, a little too shy. A little grounded and a little high. A little bit of sad and a little bit of laugh. A little bit of evrything i carry in my heart. This is my blog that highlights other works, for my poems and musings please follow me on http://myshellecongeries.wordpress.com/