Love-Drunk Dreamy-Time Poem by Brett Rogers

[I have tried before.
Let me try again …]

My heart
(the organ, literally)
Is a boyish-man
Who stood
And,
Without you agitating a muscle,
Saw all wind
Robbed from his gut
In a shifted eye.

“Please!
I’ve been hit by a car!
Disease has swallowed my brain!
My arms, my legs,
Their souls have fled
In beautiful fright! ”

Turns out
(In a doctorly way) ,
The world is a freeze-tag game
And you,
You -
Have tagged
Every-one!

… In the instant it takes
For your hands
To move through
The dreamy of you …

Crawl beneath
And unstick this mud.

* * *

And I will say:
I stand in the field of your vision,
Wafting here and there
Like the long, long grass
Of golding hills;
I am pushed by the breeze,
But I follow the warmth:
Your hot, hot eyes.

Or, if I may:
Can you come out to play?
Let’s pretend! :
You are the ocean
And I am the sky,
Reflecting and imitating
Your oh so
Yellows and pinks and whites.
The clouds,
Big on quiet,
Pale and wise,
Wooed the ocean:
“Time has told me
You’re rarifying.”

* * *

I woke today,
So smart!
I have so few breaths left,
And and and
I will use every one,
Bathing in nostalgia,
Reminiscent and pained,
Dreaming dreams
Drunk on your aura.