The Life of Love

Dressed to the T, the ballroom awaited him. Strolling up the stairs the two guards covered with red garments swung the ballroom doors open. Crossing over from civilization to fantasy he stepped into the ball. His top hat stood tall, black and feathered. South of his brim he wore a penguin suit flowing tailored to his body. The music was blaring and laughter filled his ears. The dancing people were swaying and spinning. He made his way through the crowds heading straight for the bar. "What to drink tonight sir?" The tender blurting out to the man as if he was awaiting his arrival. The finely dressed man returned with the words "Scotch on the rocks my good man." "Yes, yes of course." the tender replied. "Anything for the Mrs. sir?" "No thank, no Mrs." "My apologizes sir." The top hat man turned around and leaned his back up against the long dark wooden bar. Softly speaking to himself he says "Let the games begin..." The tender with a confused look on his face says "Excuse me sir?" Turning back around the top hat man returned his question with "Oh nothing good man, oh nothing." Breaking immediately away from the bar into the ballroom. Gazing upon the women dancing , ruling out almost each and everyone of them as if he already had a face in mind. The ball was decorated with great crystallized chandeliers and white flowers running along the stair banisters. As he brushes by couple after couple he keeps his eyes peeled, searching. Finally catching her eyes, he breaks through the floor like a dog on a scent. He slows as he approaches this woman from behind. He leans his chin over her shoulder and whispers, "My it has been too long." He could feel her smile illuminating. She whips around, now standing within inches of his chest. She stood just barely under his chin. Looking up to him she says "Shall we dance then?" As soon as they met each others hands they were off. Everything fell into place, as if nothing was ever lost. That night turned into days and the days turned into years. They lived in unison from that night forward bringing their fantasies to life. 

The Rustic

Candle lit, sitting at his desk he writes

Pondering of words to scribble he paces

Shelves and shelves of books

Dusty and old he runs his fingers along the bindings

Crossed arms and a tilted head he stands

Glancing out the window dripping of rain 

Watching the scurrying people

His thoughts over lapping with the night 

A knock at the door behind him he turns

Knowing the company on the other side 

He sits on the king chair to his right

Standing back up to walk towards the door

Veering away from the wooden door

Shaking his head he sits back down

The knock comes again startling the man

Darting towards the door

Pressing his cheek to the wood 

Petting the ripples in the barrier 

The rain continues to pour down 

Like the woman weeping outside

Hearing her sobbing brings tears to brink of his eyes

A letter is pushed underneath the door and the weeping fades away

The man snatches the letter and while reading, the tears start to fall

He slides down to the floor curling into a ball he grips the letter

Laying there he realizes the hurt he has inflicted on himself

Thoughts swarm into his mind

His crying turns silent like the old country night

Rolling over in his pool of tears looking to the ceiling 

Sprawled out on the floor covering his face with his hands

Picking himself up he goes back to his desk

Sitting in his rickety old chair he swivels around facing the window

Still thinking of the right words to write he sips his tea

Dipping his pen in ink he begins 

"Dear woman,

I love you with all of my heart."

He stops rereads it and starts the next line

"I am sorry"

He folds the letter and slips it into a envelope

Sighing aloud to himself as if it took all of his efforts

Navigating himself to the door

Unhinging the wood from the wood it swings wide open

Peeking around the corner seeing no sign of human life

He hurries through the halls to the mail room in the lobby

Shoving the envelope into its proper box turning around to check if anyone has seen

He gallops back to his room slamming the door behind him

His room seeming endless and infinite

He roams through the rows and rows of books over looking each copy

Finally coming to his room he sits on the edge of his bed

Inhaling an exhaling with great intensity

Gliding his finger tips over the sheets

Leaning over to smell the scent of her on his bed spread

Hugging the comforter as if it was her 

Throwing himself back to lay flat he gives out a loud cry 

Saying "Why! Why!" his agony protruding through the walls into the street

His eyes widen to the fullest as he shoots his attention to the ringing of the bell tower outside

Muttering to himself as he leaps from the bed he mutters "It's almost time, she is almost here"

"Almost here! Almost here!" "Hurry hurry"

Right as the knock at the door comes he turns the knob to the left and swings it open

There she was standing, her.. the woman

The beginning of his life.

Thinking of You

Water water under the bridge

To my right crosses seven seas

Maybe maybe I'll be able to see you

I'll stay true in this empty room

Lonely lonely without you

Paper paper rocks and leafs 

I thought I asked you not to leave

Distance makes the heart grow weak

So that the mouth can barley speak

I want the golden seal

That tells of how the seedlings feel 

I do not want to stay in here

Secret secret heart

What are you made of

Why so serious

Go tell them how we feel

Go tell the world

Empty empty without you

Share this heart

Je t'aime ma chéri 

No one could love you more

You can't change the way I feel

Until I die

Inside and out 

and God knows

Don't be afraid 

Aufenthalt-Grün

Please excuse me but I've got to ask

Are you responsible for the dying leaves

Have you used only one

You're like a careless kid with a bottle

The more you use, the more that you regret 

Bring the blue to blue

Tackle the beast of nonexistence 

Picking up the pieces

A self absorbing reality 

In all that you can never change

It gets you down

Travel far 

What have you found

Think things through to make sense

It all begins in the city

Sleeping like babies

You're just playing a part

Show the kids a genocide to the warm

Keep them in check

Tourists and motorists  

The Story of Two

What’s the time? As he looks to his stereo clock on the dash. It reads a quarter past twelve. Wrapping around the corners and through the trees his car speeds by the vacant houses. His head filled with ideas and words magnified by the lyrics of the song. The winds blow through his window into his hair. Puffing on his cigarettes his destination is set. The drive is in cruise considering the number of times it has been driven. Burning off the stress of the days past he keeps his eyes peeled on the passing lines below. His smile turns to a slight giggle, a muttering laugh. The volume knob twisted a notch or two higher putting him in an nonexistent world to the public. His dreams projected onto his windshield making a movie of delightful colors and make believe characters. Whistling in the wind, raising his arms to conduct the band in front of him. He is off to convert his dreams to realities by seeing the woman of his fantasy. A couple of miles of dreaming will settle when his eyes meet hers. They live in their own world combining the reality of the real world with imaginary life like scenarios. 

It’s half past twelve as she looks to her mobile. Looking up to the dark blue night she inhales a drag of her cigarette wondering where he could be. The shapes and shades pop off the materials in front of her eyes and dance off the table. She watches as these images walk around like people on the balcony she sits on. She sings her love songs to the owls perching in the trees. The glass separates her from society. A text message arrives to the cell phone she is clinching and a smile grows onto her face. It reads “Je t’aime ma cherie.” unfolding her heart, crumbling at her joints she is warm. She glows with joy and her response is known only to him. Her friends walk up her arms and climb up her legs, each one a different color or shape they giggle and laugh with each other. All at once they leap into her brain as if jumping off a high dive, splattering onto the walls creating her magnificent masterpiece.

Parking on the slanted hill and rummaging through his things he grabs his keys and a half smoked pack of cigarettes with his lighter already in his pocket. One foot at a time he steps out of his car shutting the door behind him. As he strolls up to the door he looks down to make sure everything is in order. Running his hand through his hair he knocks on the door. A silent pause rises from the ground. He checks behind him and to the sides not exactly sure what he is looking for. The door cracks open and her head pokes around it hiding her body from the night. He smiles as big as the moon in the delight to see her. Stepping inside to see her fully, he rests his mind in awe of the beauty in front of him. She has mixed blond hair chopped below her jaw line. Amazing creamy blue eyes that glow with the moonlight. Her body flows from her powerful shoulders down to her little toes. She is unexplainable. The details of this woman should be illegal. She stands there in her white v-neck shirt with her little black lace panties. Pulling his eyes to hers she smiles and does a giddy shake. Bundling up into his arms she looks up with those lips as soft as feathers. They gently press their lips together with a sigh of relief. “Home” he says looking around the room. She takes his hand and leads him through the long unlit hallway to the stairs. Ascending up the stairs he twists her around to kiss her once more. Falling downward they meet the final stair with their bodies laying. Crawling to the empty room, they overwhelm each other with their presence. Remembering the distance between them they absorb as much as they can of each other. These two can sit and stare into one another for days and days. As they lay next to each other studying the hands and rings of the other the colors and characters creep out of the skin and veins of the man meeting the slithering shapes and shades of the woman bursting from her heart they project their movie onto the ceiling. Laughing and dancing they spend their nights warm from this day on. 

Lay little boy lay

It was dark that night with the whisper in the trees and the wind beneath his knees. Stretched out on the road he laid waiting for the proposal of his enemies. He had a nervous stomach with his clinching palms around his neck. Granted by the owls and the raccoons he laid for days. Muttering the various words that brought him there. Combining them into sentences humming them as if he was on stage. Dancing on his back, loving towards the stars. The neighbors knew him so they let him. He thanked them from his hand, as a wave to the crowd of animals. He was wearing his rags that were worn and torn. His thoughts became his visions on the night blue skyline. The car lights created spot lights on his musical make believe podium. He sang the words high and low playing the parts for both. He never questioned the time or the day, he would just lay and lay and lay. No blankets or pillows those were for the comfort needing little boys. He never stood or walked for days. Until one day when he suddenly shot to his toes and walked away. The neighbors came out in their robes and slippers walking to the sidewalk softly speaking to themselves the questions that have arose. With a glance he acknowledged the people nodding his head and waving he spoke the words "This town is yours and I have over stayed my stay so on this day I will get up from my lay and walk away." Turning to the crowd with his bow he disappeared into the leaves of the trees and every year on that day you can hear him when the setting sun sets. The animals come out and play there instruments in honor of the little boy who laid.  

Love It

Don't waste it away in your cubical

This is more like a musical

Don't lose sight of the way of the dreamers

This is what the sleepers live for 

Don't tell me all about it

This is a show and tell class

We don't want to hear the sound of the drum

We don't want to hear the sound of the drum

Giving me something to brag about

Making anything able to laugh about

Watching everything on the roundabout

Evacuating nothing to talk about

Little Soldier

And you were getting ready this morning

Teeth brushed and hair done

The closet walk took only three minutes 

Sewing the laces loop to loop

And I swear this time

The movie was watched from the sheets and the pillows

You could have tipped me over

And I'll hold this clover forever 

This deserves a record book qualification 

I'm crawling through this tiny hole

Be a good little soldier 

Put that backpack over your shoulder

This isn't another children story

Kiss the cross

We haven't yet won

The mystery is history

Never will this be a loss

And you sure did look like fun

No none

Build a fire and climb me higher

There is a tickle in my bones

I can't forget the telephone

Roll the letters down

This town is spent

It's time to chase the ground

Believable

Sincerity and the common ground we stand on becomes elegantly disruptive to the world all around. You feed me with the petty things in life and I close my eyes to the flowers. The things you sing are lullaby remedies that equally qualify to me. The motion of the ocean exercise commotion that cancels out this breach of peace. Jesus knows I should have died but instead He gave me this red lipstick boot wearing little squeeze. I think He gave us this chance to start over, turn over, and play a new sport. Please forgive me for the bank owned jobs they weren’t part of the master plan. I’ll whistle the love story to my children over a smokey campfire as if it was part of an age old tale with hidden messages and clues, making it a game that these children will love to play. Climb onto my arm i’ll fly you through the crowd. I can break the walls if we have no doors. I can be your eyes or your bones. We can tap our toes on the bathroom floor. Running, running, running above the ground. Oh what a lovely sound. Oh what a lovely sound, what a lovely sound, lovely sound, lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely sound. Our memories will wear plastic sweaters keeping them fetching like souvenir letters. Did you think that I wouldn’t remember. You are a life size Tinkerbell marching towards my door. The sudden pressure change is the oxygen stolen from my lungs replaced with butterflies and jittery fireflies. Jitterally. This is a roller coaster that doesn’t have an end. There will be little floating ducks that win you nicely stuffed teddy bears, pony rides and a band it will be a bubbly good time. Oh we will shake the ground. It’s such a lovely sound.

A Pre-Opened Letter

Dear, Honey Bee

I want to take your burden for you. Put it on my shoulders, I can carry mine and yours. Give me your tears, I will weep them for you. I want to endure your pain. I can't stand to see you cringe. Just for one day I wish you peace. My powers are nothing but if I have something of use to you than I give you that willingly my dear. Take refuge in my arms I will warm you. Speak your troubles I lend you my ears. None of my words will solve your problems or fears but my actions will show you my commitment. It was you verse the world and you were strong, very strong at that but now it is us verse everyone and that is unbreakable, unbeatable, and uncontrollable. How sweet it is to love you. Sharing has never been my strong suit but the thought of sharing my life with you has never brought me more joy. What's mine is yours darling. I will comfort you always, protect you forever, and love you endlessly. Give me your hopes and dreams, we will live them. I will take you anywhere. Lets grow old together.

Sincerely,

Me