Collective

I unapologetically admit that I've forgotten how to write.

Imagine a standard of beauty

based on how much gore she can take, or

how many loud bands she used to listen to.

I wear jeans, shorts, jean

shorts and boat shoes

worn and all, and her colored pants

compliment my Ramones tee.

Imagine a standard that no one abides by

or pays attention to.  This

isn't a problem, was never a

problem for me.

In fact, right now, it's just something

to ramble about, kill

time with.

Babe, realize that you already are

beautiful as love itself

and you flawlessly fall under

every bullshit standard those assholes

We're two pens jabbed in

our pockets.  I'm writing now

with my loud thoughts, my LOUD

thoughts.  Thoughts

as loud as you.

You sunshine magnet, you

rainy day goddess, you magnificent

park bench beauty.  I kissed

you and the pladder on the windshield

silently hid the explosions, the screams

and murmers, the "no-no's"  the "let's stay

and not go's".  Her sea of hair, her eyes that stare.

The jackets are on the car floor and our affection

is clouding the car windows.  And after all, the car isn't what gets us

home.  But I can't quite tell you what does. 

it's a secret!

The four letter word.

It never comes to me

like tears never come to me,

but this pit in my throat is as real as

that word

and your heart.

And I'll say it up front, for real:

Dearest,

There are tunnels and beds

on fire

walk with me

fire walk with me

under the bed, my bed

my bed on fire.

My bed in a letter, a letter

on fire.  A love letter.

Fold me into the letter, unfolded

like sheets.  Unfolded, clean white,

like your skin.

Fire fall with me`

white

writ like our letters,

Been there and again, growing.

Been under the moon with

Ben and the boys in boats and

my friend

Madeline would yell and sometimes,

she'd cry at home, I bet.

I've been here before

and this time, it's relief

more than wonder,

but wonder still

breathes her warm, evening

breath on the edge of my collar.

Her head rests, now, at my chest

and my chin on her fake blonde crown.

I swear it's real~

My arms, now broader, wrap

around her chest and hers tangle

onto mine, holding them as I turn

I'm awake in a different poem

and under the comfort

of another life.

She holds her blonde hair up

in a ponytail

and I wist along her

wrist

cut like leeks

from the field where we'll walk

for miles, drink

gallons

on gallons

of the good stuff

that we don't need but drink anyways.

I drink to you.  You drink to me.

The blue hugged my eyes and for once, I felt welcomed by it. But, per usual, I felt a pit in my throat.

I used to feel blue at the blink of an eye, but not anymore. I feel blue pride and less sorrow.

I'm setting this blog down.  I am glad to have utilized it to find my craft and seek lighter emotions.  I have found a new, great path for my writing and hopefully, you may find it somewhere.

Thank you,

On the water

amid water

rains and rivers

soaking cotton garb

Every stroke

dragged awkward, new miles

forward and backwards

towards the shore

the puddle in the shell soaked my feet

as it spread to the bow

under my rear-end

and back to stern

Deja vu

Holed up or driving

In that room, kiss you, kiss you

So we're leaning

lying

and talking

You took off your shirt

and bra

And then the door opened

but no one saw

but us

Two young flames on that couch

coursing field lengths of arms and legs

and hips

Skin on skin

my belt clicking off it's loops

next to you

on you

You give piggybacks

to giants

who wouldn't know

the difference between

the strongest dwarf

and the weakest

Napoleonic statue

I've seen you move

boulders without anyone

noticing

and surely, it's a feat

for such power to go

unnoticed

But you've kept me from

falling numerous times

She speaks in volumes

She walks distances

under and over

bridges

She's got this air

this way about her

She's got me in the shade

of a waterfall

behind a curtain of water

This seamless and unregulated power

of descending

force

gleaming before our eyes

This constant illumination

...I rubbed into my skin

one meaning

one thousand words

Her name

brings every sense

and picture

memory

and feeling

to my goosebump

butterfly

Holding hands

over her shoulder

on her hip

on my mind

on my mind

synchronizing

legs with legs

heads on hair

in the middle of the green line

the leaves fluorescing

deep green walls beyond

and on us

inside us

You halted mid-step

to whisper

into my ear

and kiss it

and bite it

I felt the warmest waterfall

softest fingertips

lips

and heard your nostrils

trying to calm

calm

whoosh your breath through your nose

while you kissed my right side

"My ears are sensitive to that"

you said