Saturday, November 26, 2011

Former Friends Fading Fast

Hate has grown in my heart
For everything you do and say
It was everything I had
And you just threw it away
I can see it in your eyes
Shows itself in what you say
Materialized in all my tears
But it fades day by day
Cognizant of nothing now
My absence is what you will pay

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Sense Solid Sensations

I can taste your passion
Grazing across my tongue
The flavor is your gentleness
Drinking love songs sung
Pouring from your mouth to mine
Savor being young

I can see your passions
Dancing through the air
Warmth from across the room
Created through a stare
A glimpse into my happiness
Just because you're there

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Hurry Home

In the distance the sound of a rooster waking is heard. The sound of his cry echoes in an omnipresent sort of way, reassuring me that the day, in fact, has begun. Whether or not he is happy about it has been the debate for some time. At that very same moment, a male cardinal leaps up into a batch of bird seed laid out especially for him, in feeder erected like that of an alter. I watch him as he does a nervous dance for food, making me wonder if he ever truly gets a break from the impeding danger of being a bird. I understand his plight when an orange feline springs from the bushes and lands at my feet. I look up to find the bird as he wants me to see him, gone. I second guess his presence and wonder if he was ever there.

It is silent. Leaves dance a soft waltz until hitting the ground without a sound. The lion next to me sleeps, not caring if I or anyone else is there to notice. This is comforting for me, for in this moment it is my desire to be unnoticed, transcended past solitude. Self-reliance is my breakfast, energized by a bold black coffee growing cold in the winter air. The sun has little hope of breaking through the clouds today, yet there is an odd purplish hue casting light on the blanket of browns and reds covering the grass.

The air is heavy and carries a robust smell of wood through the yard, hitting me between the eyes and embedding in my thoracic cavity. I seem to be anchored to the steps in which I sat so freely on minutes ago. There is an exhale of responsibly translating into white clouds of breathe fading quickly into the morning. A lady bug has made camp on the leg of my pants and I admire her audacity. The Lady would surely make home of where it pleases, and where ever she may be.

The rooster crows for the third time, and I take this as a sign of biblical proportions. I retreat into the dwelling that I will, for now, call my home.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Write for You

Liberation in syrupy words
Dripping from your mouth
Leisurely falling in my soul
Pushing my heart south
Harvesting Identity

Liberation in narrowed eyes
Painted for my own
Blind to all iniquity
Healing sorrow sown
Cultivating all of me

Liberation in a smile
Sly, yet not too guarded
You may give it to the world
But, I will keep it shielded
Promising fidelity

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Here, Little Bumble Bee

Here, little bumble bee
Let us play with fire
In the flames, there I will see
What's your true desire

For I cannot foresee
Or direct your passions
And I long to be with thee
In an earnest fashion

Here, little bumble bee
Please do not deceive me
It's too far for me to flee
You've begun to scare me

Will you use your stinger
And lay me to my waste
Or am I the ring leader
The master of the pace

As you draw in nearer
My eyes will open wide
And I will see you clearer
And I will then decide

It will then, be too late
And I will not be free
I will surely learn my fate
For dealing with the bee