Friday, December 14, 2007

I Will Miss...

Your gorgeous eyes so brown
Your comfort when I'm feeling down
Your touch that turns me on
That caresses long after you're gone
Your kiss that tastes so sweet
The drum of your heart beat
Your body's perfect contours
Your shoulders and their curvature
Your laugh that bursts from inside
The thought of being your future bride
The stolen kisses in the guitar room
The more-than-just-kisses in your bedroom
Your jokes that tickle my bones
Your voice whispering in gentle tones
Your hands as soft as butter
The words of love you utter
Your cute, mixed up accent
The fifteen minute breaks we spent
How you always lend a listening ear
As my words pour out, so do my fears
The random songs you sing
The infinite joy you bring
How you love the things I write
How your hug makes things alright
The ink marks on your fingers
The scent of you that lingers
Your body so perfectly made
Your faith in God that never fades
Your compliments I always refuse
The things you own in orange hues

The list goes on and shall never end
For try as I might I can't pretend
My insides clench, my knees grow weak
My throat is dry, I cannot speak
I want to cry, "baby please stay"
But I know you have to go away
So every night in my mind's abyss
I find something new that I will miss

Sunday, December 09, 2007


Today I thought you wouldn't show
But you came an hour late
I thought I would only get to say hello
But we began to communicate
I thought I could keep my hands controlled
But they reached for yours eagerly
I thought i couldn't get close today
But you came closer to me
I thought you wouldn't see me dance
But you caught me moving my hips
I thought I could stop wanting you
But inches apart were our lips
Today my hands and feet were hurting
But your touch went over the bruise
I felt so tried I could have dropped
But your voice through the room diffused
Today, I thought would be so terrible
But your fingers ran down my arm
I thought today would be like any other
But your presence itself is a charm


when language like bubbling streams flow

when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands

when you feel the essence of the poet from within

when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm

when images reel as you read

when pen and paper create a symphony

then, it is poetry