Light Green
Deus Absconditus --“Book of Isaiah”
Should I presume the green night, light
From that long drag of smoke, uprising
Pale pealing and superimposing
Against backways, be so miserly?
Should I presume this to be your wake
Where your Latin, German, Greek, migrate
Komm naher, post mortem
To append a eulogy for you?
It was a cruel month
I was 13, wearing light green
Standing over your coffer
Hellgrün fading
Your face, crustulum
Your lipstick a bubblegum pink
Your chest a lapis cement, hard
You were wearing white with tiny
Purple daisies
Where the fog hugged you and
Climbed, I kneeled
I spoke komm zu naher fog, come near
Against my grief the sirens sang
I lied my head against the fog,
Wo bist du? Why, all this
Inaccessible light?
Yaya!
Hovering over your block like chest,
I inhaled
Eliot you were right
Longing
Laid
A wasteland
Incompatible
I used to fantasize that every car door closing, the bright headlights passing my window, meant you were coming home to me. Trudging through the snowy yard to softly come inside, cast open my door and crawl into bed with me, right where you belonged. I always thought it’d feel like the last piece of the puzzle had finally been dropped snuggly in place.
I guess I didn’t look hard enough to realize your jagged edges were no match to my soft forgiving curves. Although we may have fit together, I was always marked with deep grooves of regret and insincerity. And you wore your infidelity on your neck as my heart grew weary on my sleeve.
Now when I hear a car door, I wonder about you. Where you are, who you’re with, and sometimes I swear, right before I fall asleep, I feel you next to me once more.
Parts of a whole
And to think
I knew only a small part of him
Before I lost him:
I wish I could have memorized his smile
Because now when I dream of him I can only see one thing at a time:
His eyes, his hair, his hands
And it's hard to know someone when all I have left of him is a few pictures and a fragmented memory.
But you. You are different.
I am beginning to know all of you
Even the parts I don't like:
The ways in which you're an unsteady ship
Sometimes drifting towards me, sometimes far away.
I have memorized your formula for small talk,
Your changing eyes,
Your unforgettable smile
but when I look at you I can only see one part of you at a time:
your eyes, your hair, your hands
When I think of you I see you in your entirity,
and I see flowers growing
and I see hope left for us.
With you so closeby I can hardly breathe,
With you so far away I can hardly think.
As you become more real
he fades away,
until all I have left is his still, unmoving picture
his unchanging eyes
and forgettable smile.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Anything."
"I-I like you."
"You what?"
"I like you. Like a lot."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Yes."
"I like you too."
"You do?"
"I do."
"Would you like to um like uh maybe-"
"I would love too."
"Great."
"It is. It really is."
...
...
"Can I tell you something?"
"Anything."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Good."
"It is good."
...
...
"I take you for better or for worst, for richer or for poorer."
"I do."
"I do."
A Maiden Tale
A maiden traveling far and back
pretended there was naught she lacked;
yet when her needs came clear again,
found more to ink than met the pen.
In search of golden straw, not black,
a maiden traveling far and back
redounded past beginnings small
to fill each empty fodder stall
with honeyed hay of finest strand.
Inquisitive in fashion grand,
a maiden traveling far and back
encountered fairies, far off track.
Returning then, from fantastiqué,
to woo her farmer, mildly meek,
she lost her way again. Alack!
A maiden, traveling far and back.
It felt like a good day for a light-hearted quatern.
http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/quatern.html