This will be a weekly recurring series featuring 5 poems all written within the same calendar year. They capture a sense of what my life and my mind were like at a certain age. It also will show the evolution of my life, mind, and writing style. This is 1999. I was still in college but was rapidly approaching the Quarter-Life Crisis turning 21 years old.
Blink
Your incense kisses sing me a song. When I breathe your thoughts, I just wanna sing along. So close we stand, I can almost hear your heartbeat, looking deep inside to see what I can do to win its affection. Smile so gently with heat warming me, watching all your movements like waves upon the sea. My desires feel overwhelming, and your voice can stir me up, just one word. It’s just what I think, it’s only when I sleep that I blink. The hardest part of tomorrow is one day without you. A page left unwritten, a blank space in time, it’s only when I’m alone do I blink, when I’m near you I’ve no chance to think. I can’t say if we’ll make it when the cold sets in. I can only say I’d wait for you, no matter who or what I’d wait for you. Cause it’s you when I wake. If I’d known paradise to be fleeting never would I forsake the time when I don’t blink. The seasons change to take your smile away, then I’ll blink, in my mind, you’ll remain. Remember to know I’ll be waiting in my world for you, in my world we’ll dance into the sunset together. I’ll never blink again, won’t lose your picture. Don’t want to make it hard for you to see, where the shadows don’t stretch as far is where I hide. I just want to be found, want you to look for me. I’m spinning just out of reach, take my hand and pull me close, we’ll fade into the shadows. Where their voices and minds will be numb to our lives, eyes and ears pass over and move on. So close are we now I can hear you speak softly, I strain to catch every sound. I want to know what you think, only when you’re gone will I blink. When it grows cold, when our time is over, when I can’t hear your heartbeat when I’m not stirred by a smile, when I’ve no one to sing to. The hardest part of today will be when I know I won’t see you tomorrow. When I blink and you won’t be there, I’ll be waiting, for when the song returns, I’ll be here still
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Sense Unsensed
How long is too long to wait for the one you want?
There’s only so much time that can be spent looking at one who doesn’t look back.
Where is the sign that will point me in the right direction?
Where is the light to shine on my path to happiness?
How can I be sure I’m not missing something on the other side of the fence.
When you can’t see over or through, only assume it’s there.
With the time spent on the foundation,
do I dare say it was time well wasted?
Maybe she’ll never come around,
and I can’t tell you what to think, how to feel.
All I can do is think, god damn, if only situations like this were clearer to solve.
Is it worth the wait? What if my wait spills over into forever? Would I still anyway?
Gotta believe she’s everything I dream.
But gotta realize a dream is all she may be to me.
When is the right time to break your own heart?
To regroup in disappointment.
To finally admit in the sad reality of your mind that you will not get that far off fantasy.
Gotta believe that it was meant to be this way.
That somewhere out there lies another day.
Where fantasy and reality mix with brilliant flashes of color and light.
Where I’ve another hand to walk with in the night.
Gotta believe there’s another one who’s searching as well.
Gotta believe that in time I will find her.
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Mirror and Shadow
There’s a sound that’s rolling this way from across the hill. It’s not lost on me, as nature’s heartbeat calls to me, calls me home. On the verge of something, I know not what, but it’s a life changer I can assure. Angels whisper my name, for so long I was scared to answer, but now I can, I can take your hand. Please be gentle as you carry me where my future lies, my eyes may not be ready for some things they’re about to see. Be careful not to break me down, break my heart. My time with a mirrored skin hiding myself has come full circle, now it’s you reflecting me, and I can finally see myself in your eyes and on your face.
There’s a figure taking shape from the shadows stretching across the hill. It’s no longer a mystery, that figure is me. I am a mirror and a shadow, hand in hand, the figure is me and I’m ready to move. Stare into my eyes, please be gentle with this gift, I may not be ready for some of the powers it possesses. Be careful not to break me down, break my heart. Now I run to meet myself in the valley among the swirling winds of passion for life never known before. I hold my hands to the sky for the angels to do as they will, the figure is me, a mirror and a shadow are what I am. I can live now, I can take your hand and live now.
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Thirty-One
I have to rewind my mind. Going back to find that wisdom, ignorance keeps me blind. You can’t take it with you, so I’ll wait until it decides it wants to come with me. Stopped moving up, stuck in place, helping to piece back together the shattered vase. There’s a small fire beginning to burn. Do I fan it? Or pour more gas on it and try to control where it goes? The thought of a sunny day can’t stop the rain, and one sponge won’t suck up all the troubles that worry us now. Pleas and pleasures we give and receive will still come without regard to location or desire. This place, we’re here now, the smoke has not settled in to separate us yet. Follow hopefully the carrot on a string, a sad sight to seem so desperate. Strikes twelve again and the pumpkin we ride has fallen, but outside this deja vu lies strength unwavering by a nightfall at dawn. Pity silent prophets we can’t hear you singing, to give us hope on tomorrow’s wings, to tell us that all together we belong. An instant of waiting for the cell door to open, a free ride to the border, all clear and no fear. Just waiting for time. I pull leaves off the trees, turn the hands of the clock to make it speed up, drown spring in summer, and fall into winter. Just waiting for time to catch up. Blindfolded, jump feet first into the whispers of what may be, plugged up to miss the word, an excuse to ignore what you’ve already heard. As the wire we balance on shortens there is less unknown, it all becomes fact. As the boat we missed sails away cursed on opportunities, wasted becomes reality. Pass no blame onward, let it go, and drop no tears to the floor, we all have to go some time. History repeats like a record it won’t stop until the end. Only when you grab the arm and move it yourself, don’t let it skip a beat, let the future play its song.
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