Sunday, August 26, 2007

At Lunch

If this was London, would you be impressed by someone simple as I?
Or would it be like productions down West End and rooms at the Savoy.
Maybe a smile could be enough,if it was lit by the water in St. James Park.
Is that how love looks?
Laying in the sun, ducks playing by two year-olds as a football glides across the green.
Or a slow night walking down Holloway, radiant clouds and awkward stares.
Would you love me if nothing ever changed?
If London was still in a different country?
If your eyes left mine?
Does it take silence to show how much I'm afraid?
Quietly sitting across the table, wishing I could come up with something so you would notice me.
Is it working?

Monday, August 20, 2007

Untitled #11

Stiffling passion
underneath folded arms,
intently gazing at
a world so foreign.
Neutral colors.
Chestnut locks.
Wicked eyes.
Tempered cheeks.
Dropped like a tulip
among roses.
Silently sitting,
fists clinched.
Waiting on the
world to move.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Love at a Distance

I have seen light,
radiant as the sun,
dipping low across
the English horizon.
Beat, O heart as
waves, feeling
the last spark of
heat from the
fading star.

These eyes,
tired from night,
want for the
sight of fleeting
beauty and
everlasting grace,
locked deep in
the last rays over
the summer Thames.

Be it not for brevity
of speech and the
feeble plight dealt
to lovers at sundown,
caught between
the sun's fire and
the frigid water.
Fire and ice
stranded in the
hopeless gaze
careening from
her eyes.

Oh, if distance
were but a word
not a hindrance,
then would love
be true, steadfast,
complete.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Untitled #16

For what it's worth,
the argument that
ten hours isn't that
far away had to
be originated by
someone in love
with their next
door neighbor.

The Wizard of Odd

It's a red bricked road
seen through yellowing eyes.
A small white cat
setting fire to a lion
made of straw.
The disgruntled dwarf
yelling at a farm boy about
his funny haircut, lost
inside the fury of
a hurricane
in Nebraska.
It's emerald shoes on
a girl in Starbucks as
I slowly melt into a
man made of tin.
Here's to the world
thats upside down,
and the one I see
when I'm
dreaming.