Beautiful

You asked me to tell you why.

Why I think you are beautiful.

But I can’t tell you why.

Because I’m not sure.

…maybe it’s because I can see

clear summer days in your eyes

(running in the sunshine,

the wind playing with our hair)

…perhaps it’s because I can see

constellations in your freckles

(reflecting the sky

during long nights spent talking)

…it might be the way your cheek

fits into my hand

(and so I know that kissing you

is going to be mind-blowing)

…possibly its your soft playable hair

(and I can see myself

playing with it as we share

our favorite movies)

…it could be your smile

(and the way it makes me

forgettobreathe)

But really?

I just think it’s because

You

are

you.

You (in the nature of S)

You say I think too much.

And you are probably right,

but I fear I’m haunted by your soft touch.

Rushing second thoughts go into a hutch.

I plan on enjoying this and it’s true when

you say I think too much.

I grin. Your hair is in my clutch

as you make references few would get.

But I fear I’m haunted by your soft touch.

My mind is trying to double-dutch

as we struggle for dominance.

You say I think too much.

Your stifled sounds are such

a rush and I tremble…

But I fear I’m haunted by your soft touch

You are close to becoming nonesuch,

even though there is much to teach you.

You say I think too much,

but I fear I’m haunted by your soft touch.

(This is a Villanelle - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villanelle I hope I did it right...)

You remind me of the Stars

You remind me of the stars, little one,
stars, the moon and the great big ocean.
You are full of all
the potential in the world,
I want great things for you.

You are dwarfed by my arms, little one,
as I hold and rock you.
A soft bundle of hope with brown eyes,
and the great big world a head of you.
I want big things for you.

I love you little one,
with all my heart and soul.
And I can’t wait to see who
You’ll grow up to be.

Language of flowers

The women next door moved in last week

I can see her on her knees

from my office. She is weeding my

Sarah’s garden. I watch as she naively

tosses my marigolds away, left over from

the funeral. Hope she keeps the rose bushes

but Sarah’s in no position to have

favorites anymore. Six feet underground and all.

the empty vase on the windowsill

remembering it filled with first purple lilacs,

then carnations in white, pink and red,

once, while fighting, yellow roses

then, right before everything spiraled,

forget-me-nots

and a single

red

rose

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Language_of_flowers)

Dreams

I want to fly with dragons through the air

Never to die in a vampires lair

Learn to lie with fairies by my side

And forget ‘why’ when with Pan I reside

I want to fight with Nessy one day

Teach that light can be scary, come what may,

Know that I have the might to be the Hero

To show up in white, and kiss the girl by the willow

(I can't rhyme very well, but I like this. I think I'm going to edit this one and turn it in for one of the end of the semester assignments...)

Change the World

I want to change the world for good, but how?

The world is big and I am very small.

To read, to love, to learn, all vital things,

you have everyday but others don’t.

To read: a skill one needs to thrive today.

Without this simple skill it’s hard to work,

and yet, absurdly, so few can. Now what?

To love: freely, and with no fear of law

Love is love, despite what others think,

and yet, absurdly, we’re not free to love.

To learn: as much as possible, unhindered,

by money, means or law. Accessible by all.

And yet, absurdly, learned degrees are rare.

Three things found lacking in this world, so now

what steps to take to change this world for good?

(an attempt at blank verse)

Inspiration

The naked curves that I slowly trace with my fingers

The sunshine after days of rain and clouds

The kaleidoscope of colors created every fall and spring

(you are beauty)

The ex-lover that still causes the stomach to drop and breath to catch

The want of a hot shower after working hard all day

The inability to count all the stars on a warm summer’s night

(you are longing)

The plan for a road trip make years in advance

The tightly stretch rubber band about to snap

The heart pounding moments right before the curtain rises

(you are anticipation)

The seconds slowly ticking by as I wait, freezing, for the late train

The constant checking of the cell phone

The foot bouncing up and down

(you are impatience)

beauty

longing

anticipation

impatience

You,

are inspiration.