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Alone With The Jagged Cold

I don’t quite think it was the jagged insult of the cold while stepping out from the shower;
It couldn’t have been the yawning cold empty space beside me on a still unmade bed;
Perhaps it was that the single cup of instant coffee was just okay enough with real soymilk;
Certainly not the unresponded to question of what possibly could I have said to you instead.
More than I surely love you.
More than we can go so far.
More than dreams seek the possible.
More than let’s get out of this damn bar.
I don’t know but the cat claw calls for more food for his old porcelain bowl;
I don’t understand but the heater needs a filter shift out with the coming cold;
I can’t see the change that the sunsets promise for those unparoled tomorrows;
But I could have added that the place beside my heart is all yours, truth be told.
Unless the future scares you.
Unless you can’t chance chance.
Unless my words wither at your feet.
Unless all those maybes can only translate into can’ts.
And, down the tracks and beyond the call to prayer and the next bead-toss parade
I go on with my so lonely but hopeful heart, though I’m not quite sure I got it made.

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Dodging Butterflies

Dodging butterflies
Rhythm and rhyme
Falling out of love with you
Was surely my biggest crime

Wishing you here
To reprieve it all out
Your winsome smile
Scraped at the shadow of doubt

The reason for answers
Seem to beg the question
To miss your lips
Defies all lingering suggestion

A rising half moon
No mysteries here
Pestering yearnings
Cranks out a lonely tear

But look inside
Nothing is clear
Come back over—
Help this helpless dear

Scattering fireflies
Summer’s last gasp
You fled me quick
And Love slipt my grasp

More or Less

More and more
Every day
My childhood sloughs off
All the dandelions are blown away
Less and less
Every night
I long for my true love—
All the possibles have left my sight
Now and again
From space and time
I render a better verse
And words ring in polysynchronous rhyme
Back to the beginning
Let’s pretend
The affairs of Man will make sense
And it all comes out better in the end
More and more
Every day
Our demise ekes ever closer
All the dandelions are blown away

Plethora

Aspiring to be someone’s boyfriend,
And I want to fly to the moon:
Neither has the ghost of any chance
Of occurring anytime soon.
Aspirations of someone now older
Are akin to those of a teen:
Both want to be and make someone happy,
The longing is still felt quite keen.
Do you want to take on a boyfriend
And fly to find the man in the moon?
Call or comment when you are able—
Yes, right now wouldn’t be too soon.
Together we’ll share a plethora of smiles
While counting the days and accruing the miles.