A Few Poems

i was born last tuesday
when we went up
to the mountain
and we took our clothes off​

we laid all of our
fortified secrets -{and}- trembling insecurities
for eachother to pick apart and examine

and in the brutal architecture of the sun and the sky

i saw the beauty of the world reflecting off of your creamy skin​

and when i touch you my heart is fil;led wi th desir.e​

and a thousand filthy regrets and a thousand thin hopes.
and in the quiet heaven of your skin, your eyes
that seem to suck the air out of my lungs
i hold no peace but in the pounding ecstasy of my heart
in your body,
that shines the reluctant bliss of our bonds.​

behind your fragile defenses
there is a deafening stillness;
an alleviating calm in the swirling chaos
of our world,
and no words can form its meaning.​

----------------------------------------------------------​

There’s a man at
the end of the terminal.

Head tilted back
mouthing words
and speaking only in
silences.

He’s got an alarm ringing
in his pocket, but his
interminable sleep
endures.

Airplanes flashing across
the frost stained window;
and a phone booth
shrinking in the distance.
White static stinging the air,
and a lady speaks softly in
a microphone:
Move along;
his disease is
merely loneliness

And I won’t pretend
to understand him
or how I, like the hours,
change softly, ceaselessly
painfully, and blindly
burning through each night
without a skinny thought
of certainty.

---------------------------------------------------------​

my love for you can only be spoken in big words.
words that roll off the tongue
like a singing waterfall, pouring into a waking stream,
while the sun gently climbs over the clouds.
I feel my insides exploding
(or taking new shape) when i touch your body.
I like feeling your skin against mine:
the haunting assurance of naked salvation
when your eyes meet mine i am lost,
words come out
before i know what to say
and my heart speaks louder
than my mouth and mind
and that’s how I know I’ll love you;
for benefit or detriment,
I have jumped in the stream,
and the pull is stronger than
any will I possess.
and if the power lines of
communication are snipped
with stabbing knives of
faded expectation,
I will only dream of the cream whites
of your eyes, the lines folding under
your eye lids,
and the blinding promise of a new day
I found in them.

comment puh lease.​

 

oh wow.

all of these were so good. I really really loved them.

 

I enjoyed the second one the most. The other two spoke to me as well, but the second one I could relate to. Good work, post more.