erroded

I’ve twisted tendons
and callused my soles
from searching to meet you
on softer terrain
I’ve tripped up my words
and torqued my soul
from trying to meet you
on higher planes

But you like to lie
close to the ground
to limit perspectives
to single use views

taper expectations
to scraps of paper
thrown clear of anticipation
And any yearning
they may birth
crawling, trawling
scraping up traces
that may promise more
than what has been earned.

So I’ll tear up my efforts
useĺessly sown
in barren dirt
devoid of worth
beyond burying hurt
And never again
set sights or foot
on this trodden plain

background noise

I stare at your photo
but cannot discern
its want or intention
So all I trust
is that empty space
at which I stare
beyond disbelieving
at all that’s not there
to make out what is

If you must know
I’m a little bit slow
and reluctant to admit
I purposefully sit
with this view bestowed
to see what it hides
in the glow of the space
you’ll never fill

People pass
places remain
and empty spaces
won’t explain
why it is you went away
they only howl
that you’re not there
and never were

sweet n sour

Last night I dreamt
you asked me to hold you
and I ardently tried my best
You lay so still as if fulfilled
had I but been someone else

marseillaises

Little windows framing lives
endless boxes piled sky high
Rosey hopes wilt
to dusty pink
etched with rusted
forlorn dreams
The sidewalk teeming
with discarded traces

of love displaced
for a quick fix
parked in the dark corners
of feigned smiles
that barely beguile
enough coins
for cab ride home

lost poem

This poem got lost
amongst your contours
and the careless wink of your eye
It fell into a daze
and sat dumbly curled
in the corner of your smile
long before it could grip
onto the grain of the page
and make images stain
like truths

This poem is just words
gesticulating wildly
snapping into line
when it wished to be gestures
dancing in the margins
dervishly spinning spirals
boring into your core

This poem is a shivering quiver
of doodles to dispel
the fear I’ve yet again
misconstrued
the space around you
to make it mean more
than the emptiness it frames

waiting

I want nothing more
than the possible
opportunity
for chance
and coincidence
to converge
into the unexpected
All that
you took
when you went away

stasis

Living is what I do
When I’m not thinking of you
I’m often in stasis these days
The sun warms my shoulders
Into feeling less old than
My bark-like skin declares

I spend my days exposed
Like light can appease thirst
And bring life to dried dirt
But it won’t
And I’m left fiddling
With thoughts too belittling
Crumbling last year’s leaves

Branch bared and limb cracked
Waiting for my spine to snap
I keep twisting
Reaching back
To rake up debris from the past
And find a match to light it
Just to keep warm through the night

fading

If you had died
I would have lied 
erased dull facts
to keep intact
the effigy I built
on faulty stilts
but you went away
and every day
I force fuzzy edges
to the middle
so I can fiddle my focus and find
some new detail
to impress my dreams
that lately only stream
repeats of chances gone by

that last declaration

You’re a hiccup
a glitch
a prickly itch
I make a last ditch effort
to scratch
But that was the last
phrase, lost in praise of
the last phase
the last breath
held and exhaled
my last affirmation
my last exhaultation
in mock exasperation
A concise expression
of my frustration
at all that could never be
So I’m forced to resort
to self-preservation
and grudgingly decree
Yes, I was only joking

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