Built from great constellations and long forgotten rivers
I give you my restless poems without regret.
Yes it’s true that I’ve been on the move lately
and have little time to talk.
...
I'm giving you my friendship
It's yours now
Keep it in your pocket
Your purse
...
Sweet little bird
Where are you now?
You arrived in my eyes
With your sweet laughing voice
...
Rain has found my little cottage.
Cold air enters my living room.
My wife just gave me a fresh warm cup cake.
These simple things are all gifts to me.
...
When you look at me with tears
When you look deep into my eyes
How powerful is life
Thats when your soul speaks to mine
...
What is this message? A message from life?
Tell me more, give me more hints.
Hit me over the head if you like, you have my permission.
I smell a flower somewhere, but where.
...
You are heavens bird
With your silence you entrance me
Your eyes wound me
Your song is in your movements
...
Stop what your doing.
Come a little closer to my poem.
Read it in the garden of your soul.
Wheres that you ask?
...
My old green pen, you stopped working. You finished your writing, your time was up. I've forgotten your last words. But I held you close, that I remember.
...
What tavern did you go to? I found your wallet and wanted to return it. I did look in it and found your insights. Your address had a picture of a heart. One said you were giving flowers away at a tavern. Hey there you are, here's your wallet. Thanks for flower sir.
...
Man those late night poems I write have sleepy eyes. They come from dreams where I'm busy ringing bells and watching the night stars. Here friend, a warm cup of coco, while you sit there by the fire.
...
Ok, listen good and remember, I'm going to say it only once. I had no choice, you have stars and gardens and oceans, sweet music and I had none of these.
...
You sweet flower. Sunshine and beauty. Love has touched you. Our hearts opened to you Amanda. You sweet flower.
...
Worker my whole life. Life long reader.)
Ocean Stones
Built from great constellations and long forgotten rivers
I give you my restless poems without regret.
Yes it’s true that I’ve been on the move lately
and have little time to talk.
What can I say
but that from this day forward,
I can only promise you vague dreams
and curious facts.
Yes, I keep moving, thats understood,
but please tell me something,
from which ocean did you arrive,
was it during summer?
or after a winters storm? Was the moon out that night?
My restless longing needs to know these things.
My thirst grows toward oblivion;
I need to feel the ocean move towards the shore.
I need to watch the stars so none go missing.
I need to keep learning about roses
and things until I know absolutely nothing at all. Really it’s true,
and it’s not my fault that I live without a compass
and that my love grows wildly in no particular direction.
Will you excuse me now, as I put distance
between you, me and this poem.