Mixed Words

Your mouth tastes like
summer and sunlight
under a bright blue sky.
I can’t keep my fingers
out of your hair
and I wonder why
it turns pale yellow
in the sun.

These days are a tableau,
you here for just a moment
but your green eyes
stay tangible
as if I can reach out
and feel you again.
As if your laughter echoes
from another room,
the one where you slept
for the best two weeks
of my life.

But I know you are
a lifetime away
and I am in ruins
awaiting reconstruction
by your able hands,
but I will never be enough for you.

I am not the man you imagine.
I never have been.

You deserve stars
and sunshine kisses,
and I am nothing
but smoke and darkness.

* * *

This was written in response to the NaPoWriMo prompt to write from someone else’s perspective. He has said less poetic versions of this many times so here is my more poetic version of his voice. A poem of mixed words.

~Patience~

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Enough

I know it’s coming,
that day
when it all implodes
in a puff of black smoke.

This tower I’ve created
will crumble
with one small gust
and I will be in ruins.

Your hands aren’t enough
to hold me up
and I am never enough
strength or beauty or hope
to be your foundation.

We are broken halves
misplaced and lost
in this rubble life
and time and distance
have always been our enemies,
the roots of this undoing.

Your sand
can’t hold
my branches
for long enough to grow
and I can’t
stop clinging
to your sea,
your salty earth
long enough
to let go.

~Patience~

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Knowing

I know many things,
like the color
of your eyes
in the midst
of a summer thunderstorm
or the reason
your voice
twitches up
at the edges
when you say
my name.
I know
the way your skin
smells of salt
and laundry soap
no matter the time of day
and how you like
to eat chicken wings
when you watch football.
I know how your hand
feels in mine
and how our bodies fit,
no space for air between,
only desire to drown
in each other’s touch.
I know about
your past and mine,
how these paths parted
and wound back again,
never parallel,
never touching
for more than a moment.
I know all these things
about time
and love
and poetry.
I know sand
and breeze
and ocean waves
kissing my feet.
I know so much
about this world,
this life,
but I don’t know
tomorrow
or the way you
drink your coffee.
I don’t know how
you look
when your heart
overruns with sorrow
and I don’t know
your favorite song.
I don’t know
so much more
than what I know
that it’s as if
all I know
has vanished.

* * *

This was written in response to the NaPoWriMo prompt, a poem about knowing. Enjoy!

~Patience~

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Cut and Paste

What would happen
if you saw my face
in front of you,
if you had no choice
but to look at me,
to face all the reasons
you don’t speak?

What would you do
if I sent you a copy
of my heart,
if I cut my words
and pasted them
onto your eyes?

Would you read,
dive into a longing
that has lasted
over a decade,
or would you run,
jump off the ledge
and fly away from these
pain-streaked pages?

I guess I’ll find out
if I ever finish writing.

~Patience~

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Fast Love

I can picture it
like it was yesterday
but it never even happened,
the rush of love,
the speed of youth,
we would have had
a whirlwind romance.

Our beach wedding
with daisies
and bare feet
and your parents
helping us through.

It’s there,
so close,
but it never existed,
never will.

My fingers
keep reaching
for you
and that moment
when I could have stayed
and loved you on fire,
our burning
igniting the sky above
and bathing us
in fast love
and hasty choices.

Yes,
it would have been
fast and
infinite and
beautiful.

* * *

Ok. So I read a few poems by other participants and decided to write a second NaPoWriMo poem. Enjoy!

~Patience~

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On My Way

Wheels humming
against hot asphalt

and I’m coming.

Frantic landscapes
speed by
through blurry windows

and I’m coming.

Quick transfers,
rushed exchanges,
bags banging
against my legs
as I run,
and I keep chanting,

I’m coming.

Bus slows
and so does time
as your face
becomes real
for the first time
in two years
and three thousand miles,

and
I’m
here.

* * *

This was written in response to the NaPoWriMo prompt, a rushed journey. Enjoy!

~Patience~

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Ultimate Pursuit

A Star Wars marathon and
salsa on the balcony,
it’s the little things
we should officially recognize.

The last five seconds
in the ultimate pursuit
of happiness
are what matters.
When the pain goes away
and
reasonable offers
are not good enough
,
know that,
if you love someone
it’s not too late.

* * *

This was written in response to the NaPoWriMo prompt, a social media poem. It was yesterday’s prompt so I’m a bit late, but the text in italics is mine. The rest I took from my friends’ Facebook updates. Enjoy!

~Patience~

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To Write

Some days
I’m too tired
to write
but I do

anyway.

I spill
these poems
from my veins
and watch
as they churn
on the page.

Choking
and
sputtering,
they twist
in a gyre
of lost thoughts
and sleepy eyes,
but I write them

anyway.

I write them
for you
and for ears
that burn
with silence
and hearts
that yearn
with loss,
and I’m tired
but I need
to write them
for you.

So I do.

* * *

I am exhausted. I taught class while simultaneously running the school blood drive which consisted of supervising 20 kids who were supervising 50 different kids who donated blood. Needless to say, I was unable to think straight for to NaPoWriMo prompt today. Hope you like this instead.

~Patience~

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