Days I don't love you.

On days I don't love you.
I walk through the haze.
That makes hours feel like days.

On days I don't love you.
Emptiness fills.
Everything and nothing thrills.

On days I don't love you.
I'm like someone else.
I'm not sure I even love myself.

On days I don't love you.
I know I need you more.
Those days make me love you more than before.

Office.

Omniscient management networking.
Fluorescent lights, pleasantly annoying.
Finite forms, storm and perform for a premium.
I conform to the norm hum along to jazz in the atrium.
Creativity crushing conformity called 'motivation', we pawn personalities for pensions.
Every day we do our best work, ever dying we try to give. in death will we joke having only half lived?

Brand new day

The sun comes up the day rolls on.
You compromise yourself and it all goes wrong.
By the time it sets and the shadows grow.
The gloom and of the night to come becomes your own.

So sleep on it and let it die the irony is when you do.
You'll rise refreshed and feel alright it's a brand new day for you.

Juxtoposed

There is an emptiness that can fill your soul.
So painfully hot that it's numbingly cold.
There's a thought that can leave your mind empty.
Are our thoughts our own, are we really free?

There's an emptiness that can fill.
A silence that can thrill.
A loneliness in the crowd.
A deafening edge to the loud.

And it's so blinding we ignore.
We're so empty we want more.
We've tried to be perfect so long we feel broken.
We haven't slept so long it's like we've never woken.

Morning.

Cold...
But not so cold that it bites.
Enough for goosebumps and momentary shivers..

Folds...
Of my bed in the light.
Too late to snooze, too comfy to leave the covers.

Mist...
On the top of my teacup.
Hot enough to wake me, cool enough to swallow.

Lists...
And reasons to get up.
But I'd rather watch the rain race down my window.

Twilight or dawn

Light and glare blinds me.
And you walk through the valley.
Of the shadow.
Darkness and light both of us hoping.
For a change in season blindly reaching.
For a new tomorrow.

Opening up our lives.
To the author of the tides,
And time itself.
Discovering the lack of light.
And abundant life
Within ourselves.

You and I will watch as time flies by.
Waiting for the twilight.
Hoping for the daylight.
For that day he takes the walls away.
And we're standing in the sunlight.
Where two hearts emerge as one life.

The thin disguise.

Your skin smells like the earth when the rain breaks.
Only lighter, sweeter
The wind swells like words, makes my soul shake.

Bolder, warmer.

It sounds so much like your whiles whispered. .

Softly, slowly.

I reach out to touch your smile and I'm shattered.

Slowly, Lonely.

Only man instinctively hungers for beauty.
Kneel and feel.
Nature is too thinly made to hide your glory.
Reveal what's real.

When my eyes are closed.

New worlds are in view.
Foreign land and native hands.
I can see you.
Helping children understand.

Suddenly the scene changes.
And we're in danger, on an adventure.
Everything seems stranger.
But you're here, and that's clear.

There's a cameo appearance.
From a stranger I remember.
There's a glimpse of the darkness.
I'm not here, I'm not near.

My eyes open.
In a whirl the world.
Fades and is broken.
I grasp in futility, for a moments memories.

But all I catch is you.
Half asleep smiles warms my heart a while.
And then glazes through.
And I'm back on the scene searching my dreams for you.

Naked

Bones clothed in crimson
Flesh cloaked in skin
From prying eyes hidden.
In the womb deep within.
Raw pure and clean.
In the beautiful unseen.
Until another's flesh is torn.
And cloaked in love your born.

From diapers and nappies.
Boo boo's and blankets
to tutu's and tiara's,
Sundresses and mascara.
In denim, poplin linen.
We're woven and hidden.
Till before it's known.
We're nearly full grown.

Wear hearts on our sleeves.
Like accessories.
And when their bashed and marred.
We bandage our scars.
Till we find another.
Who sees through the armor,
Things deeper than skin.
And loves the heart within.
And clothed in the other's light.
We don clear bridal white.
And undressed under covers.
Completely clothed in another.
We lie open and undone.
And more than flesh becomes one.

Until the years strip us.
Wear out the bridal tresses.
And in flesh we weave others.
Strapping sons and daughters.
Clothe them in hugs, love, courage.
Undress their pains and baggage.
And when we've clothed them with all.
They will wear their pall.
Clothe us with tears and goodbyes.
As we're clothed with dust and die.

And we meet the master weaver.
The sewer, tailor, savior.
Who sews us into tapestries.
And patchwork woven mysteries.
Who threads of fate seamlessly entwines.
And untangles the twisted lines.
Mends stitches and displays.
Our rips tares and frays.
Till we're nude exposed and free.
To be who we were meant to be.

Seasoning the seasons

It starts with water that greats the air.
Milk and sweat in our mothers care.
Plucked from our lips far too soon.
Saffron and mint to cool the wounds.

Cloves to chew to clean the teeth.
Of curries chilies and basil sweet.
As curry leaves and pepper.
Mustard and coriander.
Add fervor and flavor.
Heat and fever.

Cinnamon and sugar.
Honey and nectar.
Lemon and ginger.
In tea and coffee as we watch the years.

And then Myrrh and salt when our end is here.

Puddles

Your love is like rain and my descriptions.
Are like muddy stains, puddles of diction.
Failing completely to express the way.
Your love completes me most every day.
When the forest grow and strong torrents bloom.
Watered by your flow mused in your perfume.
And I try to speak, to convey my awe.
All my words are weak, and my thoughts are flawed.
Still you love me so, even though my words.
Are lines that you know, just things you have heard.
And your love leaves my words slurred and muddled.
In awe of the sky, describing puddles.