Saturday, May 26, 2007

The Color Of No Love

A blank page stares back.
No words written,
none spoken.

White paper, blue mood,
gray solitude.
A red-blooded male,
prone alone
on black satin sheets
with a crystal-clear vision
of scarlet lace on tan skin.
Purple clouds of desperation.
White lightning flashes frustration.
Green with envy at another's rainbow.

Drifting off now ...
A few words written, still none spoken.
Murky green blue-gray melting ...
foggy ...
no spark, no flash ...
gray ...
what is ...
where ...
Page stares back ...
Fade to black.

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Some new stuff ...

I found a few old scraps of poetic writing today. I usually remember the circumstances behind what I've written, but a few of these completely elude my memory.

He'll Come Along One Day

For you, it may not come
like lightning and thunder,
it may be more subtle
hidden under
blankets of caring and friendship.

Be he a knight in shining limo
or some guy on a bike,
he'll be both gentle and strong,
someone you like
as a friend first.

Open your mind
to the possibility,
then open your eyes
and you may see
him before you.

It'll happen.
He'll come along one day,
you'll open your heart
and hear yourself say
"I love you."

Last Call

How can love just die,
and friendship fly

How can all the closeness and
memories of warm, loving years
just stop cold?
With a handshake on the phone?
And no tears?
A call that ends because
there's nothing left to say?

How can two who would be
together forever
never speak to each other

How can love just die
and friendship fly
and end in so much pain?

Love In The USA

Love begins with infatuation
in the land of the free,
this wonderful nation
that guarantees
life, liberty and
the pursuit of a new lover.

What a wonderful situation,
eyes make contact
skin tingles
heartrates clumb
bodies connect.

They're not in love
they're infatuation.
They're in for
a roller coaster ride
up and down, in and out,
over and under
over and over
till dawn
or till it dawns on them
that they're infatuated,
not in love.
Then what?
Coney Island or
Fantasy Island?

In love in the
land of the free
and the home of
the lonely.

She Cannot

She wants the men
she cannot have
and cannot have
the men she wants.

The men who want her
cannot have her.
She does not want
the Man who wants her.

Rhyme and reason

Roses are yellow.
Sunsets are pink.
Writing is mellow
But sometimes I think

That poetry's silly
Some of the time.
I mean why place a word here
Just for the rhyme?