Harbour

if you ask me I will tell
the story of my chance
sentences strung as one
beautiful words taking turns
to paint the scene
of immortal love

if you ask me I won’t hide
won’t push the thoughts aside
you’ve always been light
ever since the first
and I sense till the end
oh to be there, with love

if you ask me I will say
truth to you, one
do you know I’ve been there?
just ask and I will say
like a stem grows each day
to hold its beauty high in the air

yes, love, I’ve been there
I have seen what I should not
and I didn’t want to return
but you — yes, you frighten
I could swear on my life
you take my breath away

love, have you been there?
I want to change your mind
I want to show it could be
love, I beg you to tell me
someday you’ll join me there

      

        

Finished: 6:18 a.m., Tuesday, November 20th, 2007. (adjustments 6:26 a.m. to final verse, same day; further adjustments 6:32 a.m., again to the final verse, again the same day).
Copyright L.M. 2007. (see note on next poem. perhaps exaggeration, emphasis on feeling, not necessarily definition).

Hanging On (2005)

I cannot say I’m pleased
repetition is, however, foreseeable
and I did not foresee
a failure on my part for feeling
the rudimentary error of my species
a mistake Mother Nature corrected with the others
and hoping
a moronic faux-pas in this century
if I collapse, you’ll understand
for I’ve forgotten what is new
and I’ll remember the old
all over again so it is once more fresh and disturbed

tiny speckled thoughts of random
tear me away into bliss
but sharp jabs in my side remind me
such cringing should be my guest
it heralds not impossibility
and speaks with the ancient eyes
so why do I feel so lost and helpless
when my stage continues to grow
and my crowd fights it out amongst themselves
this mantle is silent but near implosion
with albums of fear and hatred and ignorance
weighing down on the chance for sustainment
but bricks are strong
and though the weight is mighty
it keeps me afloat somehow
my worries only feelings
those rancid add-ons to our faulty line

Copyright L.M. 2007.