poem

A Life Lived

She started with a salty goodbye. A sayonara of oceanic proportions, in which ships sank and seashells shattered.

And around she went in the arena of ago, an archipelago amass in aromatic ages.

Until at last she settled, safe within the enclosure of a promised land of epic proportions.

And there she landed a lover, who loved her lonely ass.

Years yonder, she yearns for her yesteryear land.

For her lover forgot, and found a flagrant floozy to fuck.

So she dreams, and connects her current conditions, completely crushed

By sorrowful sayonaras, and restless regrets.

Reverie

If the stars will dance
in the atmosphere
and the moon will run rings
’round the earth

If you are beside me
holding my hand
and the love that we share
launches mirth

Then the universe must be
as happy as we
Let us praise the glory
of the sun

In the days of our life
let us always be joined
and the night, with the stars
we’ll be one

Gossamer Dream (Haiku)

Japanese doll

Gossamer Dream

Placed in morning light
Draped in gossamer wishes
I kneel to your pyre

Originally posted March 24/13

Coming Home

As night falls, each day
I see you in a different light
Tired from your broken-assed job
And your stop-gap commute
You rub the back of your neck
And smile at me,
It’s okay

You sip your red wine
at dinner and like a gentleman ask
if I enjoyed my afternoon
And you tip your glass
and nod as your eyes drop
to the buttons nesting just there
And smile at me,
Shall we?

Falling all around you
Your smile, the night,
You prop me up
and we touch and turn
And I see no vulnerability then
Not the rubbing of your neck
Nor the tired look that
weighs upon you

Your power; the silk-covered
marble-like hardness of your
arms that lift and manipulate
my will until,
I know not where I end
and you begin.

Chastise me with you wordless growl
Graze me with your fingertips
Breathe your wine-enduced
last-thrust vitality, with which
you end your day
upon me.
Let me be your chalice.
Come home, to me.

Listen

Every day it’s the same thing.
“Listen,” you say, “to the birds singing.”
And every day I say back to you,
“What do I want to listen to the birds for?
“I could be doing something else,
“like the things I used to do
“when my life was full!”
“What,” you ask, “did you do before,
“but sit and complain that you had nothing to do?”
“Well,” I reply, “it was better
“than listening to the bloody birds!”

Every day it’s the same thing.
You think you’re right but you’re not.
I remember: stop telling me I don’t.
You’re unreasonable. And cruel.
I want to go back to where I was happy
not listening to the birds.

And don’t forget to visit.
I’ll be happy when
I can go back to being alone.
But don’t forget to visit.

Mathmatical Evolution of Love

A relative emotion
Subtract/divide
by two

Start with joy
add a pinch of misery after so many years
find the balance

Contentment

Do you feel it?
Laying here curled up
in your arms
on a Saturday morning

The newspaper is here
The kids are gone
Their lives are full
of themselves

Just us
subtract
divide

Contentment

Depression

Fold in
disconnect
no sun
warmth severs ties
nourishment
irrelevant
peace
a vacuum

Dregs

If you stare hard enough
at the dregs that roll
around the bottom of your bottle
those bastard last drops
of golden fire, swirling
in the curve of the base
of your clear glass bottle
perhaps she will return
maybe
she’s like those dregs
and no matter how hard you want
or beg
or plead
or cry
she refuses you
like the dregs.

But what if your stare
your hard swaying drunken stare
was enough to break the bottle
to cause sharpness…
no
you’re too soft
too in love
with the bottle
with the fire
with her.

So you’ll wait
maybe
you’ll find another bottle
a full bottle
a bottle of golden fire
and maybe
she’ll return
when she sees your smile
and maybe
when the bottle is half empty
like last time
she won’t go
she won’t cry
she won’t plead
she won’t beg, or want you
to waste
down to the dregs
and maybe
if you stare hard enough
you’ll forget

JusJoJan 11 – Wasted

atsushisakurai.duumal1

Your songs

make wasted

look damned

good.

 

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Cloud Child

Found you
in a cloud
I could
have missed you
For you were
but mist
But my eyes
focused at
the last second
And there you were
and I smiled
and held
your hand
for but
a moment
and then again
you were gone
from the cloud
From this world

I miss you
as though
you were really here