Song,

Song,
That embrace of a beat/a melody
Much more steadied than our own.
I know how to be good, though
Lessons, when learned, are
But still worthwhile, if for
No other reason than a means
To relive humility.

Cold feet, more foot, knows
There is warmth in being covered, though
Finds an ability to breathe more appealing;
The world knows not me, and I little
Of the world, thee, who witness, staring,
Blank to let me fill your needs with fancy’d
Words, turned phrases, plead[ing]s to be
My witness. And, I begin with you, as you me,
In hopes far more exists in land of poetry
Than word, but written, or history; we wish
For future, more, who we are, to receive clarity.

11-11 09.43.5pm

Sold my faith for a minute more
In the warmth of a blanket, to
Escape the cold outside. Can’t say
I regret the life I’ve lived, but I
Will always remember rolling over,
Telling Him I need more time to
Adjust to the temperature, and
Still going to where I would have been.

Bought my faith for a summer spent
Being His, and observing Life,
The Way, and all there is. Won’t say
I regret what I’ve seen, but I
Will always remember running through,
Showing Him I needed more time to
Adjust to the temperature, and
Still go where I would have been.

11-11 09.31.5pm

Sometimes, all you need
Is a strum and a run-on
Sentence, or thirty-some.

The greatest love you can have
Is the love of yourself, for
No one else can love who
Doesn’t love themself, but
The second-greatest love
You can have is the love for
Someone who doesn’t see
The love they deserve, only
The love they lack inside, behind
Those eyes hiding love, buried
Under shadow, the absence
Of a bit-flick-flame, that one
Feeling of heat, best described
In anger and in love, though
One spreads and the other
Flees when it’s all over, so
Always pick the one that stays,
The one someone else gives and
Hopes so much the kindling sparks
To pull that love out of shadow,
Out of the corners and into
The warmth of embrace, even if in
Mind.

The Cat I Broke And Who Fixed Me

She watches beside me,
Anticipating movements
Not yet made, but made
Before. Her head follows
Her eyes, widened by my
Returned stares; she
Pops as the jack, paws
In walk & rump raised,
Tiring of the silence and
Knowing I will welcome her.