Thursday, December 5, 2013

at night

At night
At short notice
On some shadowy side street
As the world goes on without them
Two lonely souls do meet

And untold pangs
Of guilt
Confusion and loneliness
Do melt away in heartbeats
And one long-yearned-for caress

Friday, March 29, 2013

could i still...

Hello, friend
Could I still call you friend
It's been so long now
Days melded
Into a blur
Of weeks and half-years
Ofttimes I have thought of you
Fondly, always
Heartbreakingly, sometimes
We are bonded
By our humanness
And divided by the same
There are reasons I know
And others I never
Why this must be the way

Oh, friend
Would you still call me friend
On fitful days I go
To the one place
I know I can find you
And when I see you there
A smile breaks
Across my tired face
Silent and still
In virtual shadows
I remain unseen
To know you are well
Soothes the scar
And tempers the void
A lonesome raindrop
On dry, forsaken ground
Sweet, but short-lived
And never enough
But it is all I have

Goodbye, friend
Could I still call you friend

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

the writer

The writer sits, staring
Trance-inducing glow
Frustration no one sees

Fingers perched on home keys
At the ready
For the spark of inspiration

The writer sits, sighing
Each louder than the prior
Unfulfillment no one hears

Fingers amble over keys
As a Ouija board
For a bit of magic
(Or at least, coherence)

The writer sits, yearning
In that way only writers know
From this malady some call art

Perhaps if he had a slant-top desk
And an old feather quill pen
Would he find himself compelled
By those ghosts of the past
To write
But a few perfect lines
A verse, a stanza
To make someone

The writer sits