Thursday, November 18, 2010

Firsts

The first time we spoke
Over a song. Over a joke.
Sudden friends

The very first spark
In a bus. In the dark.
But you didn't notice

Our first week across states
Couldn't stand it. Couldn't wait.
To see you again

Your first confession
Changing course. Confusion.
Pulse escalates

First kiss
Bliss. Bliss.
Heaven in your arms











Poetry

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