(((Harold)))

Thank you

Harold
Vinny

Nice write, Jason

in his small world he waits
for a stranger to come
one filled with the sweetest touch
to find his affection
to find he still cares

days follow nights
nights follow days
haunting each other
in bittersweet heartaches

the days
he spent planting his desires
deep into the dry earth
scattering tiny seeds

the nights
he spent squandering
in self sorrows
pulling apart his heart
until it bleeds
weakening with fearful uncertainties

still he willingly waits
as days turn into weeks
weeks into months

his body soiled in despair
cries sour tears
dusting the ground
where he had laid the seeds

in the early hours of dawn
roots burst out of the ground
stretching towards the winter sky
its magnificent bark spawn leaves of gold
ascending through the dark clouds

the cold winds release the leaves
dispersing them out of the sky
in sheets of gold
into the arms of a stranger

their warm touch send shivers
of absolute joy throughout her body
opening her heart
momentarily reminding her the happiness
she so desires

she knew then what she needed to do
what she had long wished for
he has to be out there somewhere
she will find him
even if it takes her all eternity

night time a long dark corridor that I often stumbled
in odd colorless motions through vacant houses
walking the halls scrapping the smooth wallpapers
an absent body barely half a soul

hanging by loose threads that you lovingly sewed
my tragic end to my tragic existence
no one could have save me not even me
an absent heart barely half alive

a ghost who blindly sold his limpness soul
for a life he did not deserved or desired
darkness hovering in these black eyes
an absent mind barely half working

an absent body barely half a soul
always trapped in my own hell
not knowing how to live
in this world where I sometimes occupy

I had learned nothing not a thing
not even to cherish or sing to your kindness
many days you have wasted keeping me alive
with your tender words and your sweet gentle kisses
those were the days where I felt most alive

don't waste your time remembering me, useless to even try
one day when you are all alone, you will find you do not miss me
you will release me from your tender aching heart
and know I am gone forever

Thank you

Harold
pkd
Bill
Mystique

Just felt a little shiver run up my spine
Beautiful, as always, MsWiz

her arms hug herself
her eyes wish for an end
in the darkness she saw
his face awash
in coldness slowly
forming a cloud
fading into white sheets
naked in the arms of her bed
she cradle her emotions
prolonging them in the small
hidden spaces of her mind
days walking around
searching for the pieces lost
in the ending of her thoughts
she saw herself yesterday
mad but showing no madness
her face turn to a smile greedy
in her voice she spoke
of living with the dead
but is she dead?

Wonderful (((Harold)))

(((Bill)))

(((Harold)))

you've found the light

Thanks sweets

velvety, husky
gravelly, silky
slowly tongue me
head to toes
and all around

i turn you on
louder
and louder
and louder still

till you surround me
filling every pore and every orifice

an amniotic sac of sound
no void
just voice
your voice
its reverberation my heartbeat

i close my eyes
exhale a sigh
as your voice makes love to my ears

a line from a thousand love songs
(insipid, sappy, and wallowing quite happily
in its own misery)
but late into the early morning
in the stagnant blindness of my bedroom
i - lying in bed without you -
remember the 'C' of your body
into which mine so perfectly fits
and the leg - yours - which slips
so naturally between mine
how your arm will try to pull me
closer still to you

lying in bed without you
i remember all this

or

perhaps

all this reminds me that i am
lying in bed without you

coming for me
to settle down the anger
nebulous dark words

home casts astray
a quilted city desperate, chasing
itself, the drowning

laid out in
the soft concrete and fragile
bone caves, electric

and darkness collided
together emerging anew, fragrant, coursing
through every vein

endless, lapsing, madmen
abandoned and lost women and
high-heeled babies

splintering, and businessmen
on a secret drinking trip
hazy nighttime traveling

this space contained
ourselves, raw, breakable, blood pulse
overheating and beating

and I stumble
through this all sliced by
a creeping night

Thank you, gorgeous

Thank you (((flame & Jason )))

i
it was cold – really, you’d think they thought we were all
penguins from the arctic.
a three-hour epic – how much longer in this cold?
“i'm cold” i whispered to you - “i'm cold too”
you confessed -
but you dug into your bag and pulled out a sweatshirt
and gave it to me -
“well use it then” i pushed it back to you -
you were so stubborn –
“you’re cold too, take it” you pushed it to me.
i don’t know about you - my world stilled
the moment our eyes met –
your eyes gazed steadily into mine, blinked once
- (nervously?) -
a slow smile formed on your lips.
i confess now: i was nervous – caught off-guard – turned
away from your warm gaze;
your sweatshirt laid limp in my hand, your attention
returned to the movie -
but mine? – it was drawn, taken – probably lost for good.

ii
heavy rain-storm replete with threatening light-swords -
thunder sounded at every step:
we trudged uphill – sought shelter at the crematorium.
soaked to the bone but buoyant we laughed merrily -
i leaned in close (subtly as i could) -
you were unfailing and steadfast – retorted jovially
“hey i'm supporting you” when i argued otherwise.
the rain drained into a light drizzle – we left our erstwhile
shelter.
on the slippery-wet grass by the drain-side, i hesitated
to cross –
afraid i'd slip and fall;
from across the drain, you silently extended a hand –
open, reassuring, warm, ready –
“i'm supporting you” –
i took it – your fingers closed firmly around my hand –
and crossed.

iii
that deep, dark night, going to the beach –
i, tipsy and intoxicated, giddy with laughter,
lost my shoes in that dark field – climbing over
that wooden fence
(we were trespassing; the slippers were clumsy
- i took ’em off).
stranded on the fence, i pouted and whined
– not wanting to wet my feet on the dew-laden grass;
so you sighed, exasperated but indulgent
– affectionately -
found my shoes amidst the grass, knelt before me, laid
my hand upon your shoulder
– “lean on me” –
gently took my bared feet one by one
and slipped each shoe on.
we made it to the beach
– i stumbled, lost footing, but you were always there,
always ready, always steady –
and waited for a sunrise that never came –
(we were facing west!)

iv
another three-hour epic, let out late in the night
we brought our dinner to the musical fountain –
wanted to watch the light display;
but they’d turned it all off that night
– maintenance, they said.
still we sat by the silent, unlit, dry fountain,
laughed over our unfortunate timing.
we finger-shared dinner – delicious roast chicken, licking
at our fingers -
a bottle of water, a rosy Fuji apple, juicy-sweet.
the night was starless, overcast
– no moon, not even a sliver –
it was beautiful.

v
in the darkened cinema we were whispering
(we were supposed to be watching the movie but instead
were discussing it)
i sighed over Melina Kanakaderes’ fine-boned Grecian
beauty,
you liked her legs and breasts (what about mine?!)
suspense on screen: the Killer was hidden; Robert de Niro
was about to be killed –
i covered my eyes - you laughed softly at my silliness and
pried at my fingers.
i remained stubborn, tried to nudge you away with my elbow.
your fingers stayed, covering mine;
then you whispered in my ear “it’s over, it’s okay now
– look”
i peeked and relaxed, fingers removed, and slouched
on you –
joined seamlessly (it seemed) from my shoulder
to the end of my arm with you.
was it cold in the cinema? i only felt the warmth
of your body on mine –
but where did you end and i begin?

vi
the peak hours – hours of vehicular congestion,
we’d thought –
but no, we stop only for pedestrians and traffic lights.
the kaleidoscope of light and shadow plays on our skin
as we rumble through Warren Boulevard.
my urban-road-warrior – on a steel mount in gunmetal
shades -
i wrap my arms more tightly around you –
feel the soft undersides of my breasts on your forearms –
the assuring beats of your heart and the gentle
fall and rise of your chest as you breathe –
i hold you close as you embrace your roaring mount.
there is warm sun rays and cool breezes –
what more can i ask for?

Yes,
I think I’ll start
scribbling some lines
about you
every day –

lines about you,
inspired by you,
and scrawled across
the empty lined page
of my notebook
for you;

because I feel happy
seeing the penciled lines
appear
word by word,
because I am thinking of you
in every line that materializes,
because these lines make me feel
so giddy
with adoration,
and so snuggly
with affection
for you.

At the beginning of each line,
my pencil pauses
as the your image dawns in my mind
like the emerging sun at daybreak,
smiling ever so warmly at me;
and as I end each line,
the sunbeam of your smile
is replaced by
the twinkle of your eyes,
brilliant stars at nightfall.

All right,
so I’ve been told
I am infatuated
with the image of you –
an image I’d created
of you -
and not really
with you –
the living, breathing
warm body of you;

but – you know what? –
I’ll never get as close
to you
than to you in my mind
who inspired these lines
about you,
never feel closer
to you
than through these lines
jotted down in pencil
on this lined page
for you.