Sunday 20 September 2015

Weeds and Wishes

Scatter shot gunshy
It's not like I was sowing wild oats as much as just
Tossing seeds where I'd thought they might grow
Not too much left of my heart though
Trying to put the script back together
Love's an excuse to get hurt

I try on the lines...
It all feels like Dejá Vú
If there's such thing as a "one"
I blew that boat to kingdom come eight years gone
 
Gather.  Wince.  Repeat. 
There are things I do when I love someone.
Things that remind me that I've loved before, but even
Acquaintances have their pet names and rituals

I've never been unfaithful
But now I know I'm capable.
No one has asked for all of me
In quite some time
And now?
Time to gather up the dandelions
Blown at passers by.

I pretty much like everyone
At least I try.
Usually loving someone
Means I stop trying to make them mine.

They tell me I should marry
I want to
The girls ask me how old I am
If I have a family,
If I want to marry an American girl,
I know what all the questions mean.
But I've made it 28 years without
Breaking more than a handful of hearts
Or sleeping (in the sexual sense) with anyone's current
Or future wife.

Hope is a thing with fangs
That tears at the soul
And won't leave you alone.
The what-if-parade of
Next year's models
Will catch you and not let go.
Possibilities
Tearing at your throat.
And I've almost never seen a marriage
That I would want.

I've almost found room in my heart
To fit a whole world inside
It bursts, and I don't know how
To make it mine
And what do I have to give?
A broken wish, a scattered dandelion.

Hope is a thing with fangs
That tears at the soul
And won't leave you alone.

Sunday 13 September 2015

Love in Six Acts



Act One:  A Deal with the Devil

Deep blue eyes caught me on the brink.
Starting to sink,
I made a deal
To let myself fall,
Distraction from the pain,
A cynical calculated crush.
Next to your name in my phone I wrote "Beautiful."

Tears without explanation
You reeled me in, and
You kept your distance,

And you never once mentioned your boyfriend.


Act Two:  Translation

Summer transformed frost into melody
I am taken aback by how well you understand me
Plowing through songs, trying on lines,
Debating their merits, and trying not to
Notice the smooth curves of your sides.
A forgotten heart began to sing a new language.
And it was ours, and finally mine.
Freedom, passion, voices rise.
And mingle in a open sky.


Act Three:  The Fall

I entertained the idea of a kiss,
And that idea flowered into a near-obsession;
Just
a
kiss.
We just kept walking, tired.
Sat down by the stars streaming by
In the river below.
And I began to touch,
Longing for that kiss,
That thing you wouldn't give,
And I took your heart,
And your body in my hands.

Innocent you invited me to stay over;
I ran away, knowing my limits and afraid--
It's the hardest I've ran since the Garden State--
When I came back no one was home.
No one knows.

And it was then I realized we could probably
Never manage just friends.
And it was then I realized that I'm still the
Selfish man I've always been.

Act Four:  Forgiveness

We sat on opposite ends of the bench.
I know you had flashbacks to that night and maybe
You still do.

It was the end.  For the time being.
But you made me cry with the things you said.
And in the phone I changed beautiful to "forgave."


Act Five: 

Boundaries
There are things we don't talk about.
Things we don't say.
Lulls in the conversation where we look away.


Act Six:  More than Just Friends

Just friends...but when you smile
By my side on the mashrutka,
It's all I can do not to lean in for a kiss.
The ropes course, fearless you showed me a new side of you
And it keeps on coming,
Each day something new, after all this time,
How much more do I not know about you?

I decided to go to the mountains
To say good-bye, or perhaps to say
I didn't know how to.
I tried to explain all this,
You didn't care
You just wanted to be there.
So I put my arms around you,
Together in the twilight,
I think I could've let you go,
But then the men who followed us, the
Fear of losing you,
Was too much.
We decided to date.
A week later you said you never wanted to speak again
That wasn't true.
But the dating was done. 

And what now?
I guess I'm just thankful
That you're still around.
And maybe this time,
Now that we understand
We're not meant for marriage together
We're learning how to love

Sunday 6 September 2015

Wings

I used to think faith was a thing with wings,
perchin in the soul,
Just one little scare and it's all ready to fly the coop
and give up hope.
That if you touched those little wings,
They'd flake off in your hands
Like dust.

I used to think that Atheist books and rated-R films were all gonna send me straight to hell,
That if my windshield cracked or shattered,
I'd get bugs in my teeth, but you know,
I think the thing that been killing my soul more than all that is this little
Voice in my head telling me that my heart and soul ain't somethin
I can bring to church or work.
That God's a oversenstive model that can't handle
What I really think about her.  You know,
People don't like to see all that personal shit.
I've been lying to myself 'n God.
You know, I can be pretty good, I could convince most anyone,
Got the answers, know what there is to know.
And honestly I'm terrified that answers boy is gonna shut up the poet.
Concrete my eyes so that I won't ever be able to see the wind again,
Just mirrors and diagrams and smoke.
I can be pretty good, and the worst part is,
I convinced myself that I wasn't the bad guy at all.
That's when I started to fall.

The God I met is a lot more like a dragon than a dove.
Greedy, terrifying, awe-inspiring, beautiful.
And I'm gonna be honest, it's a lot easier for me to
Go before him when I'm not alone and I don't feel like a screwup, got my
Full armor against God on, all my good deeds, my list of sacrifices, and all my
Abstinences, it's all trash.
I'm still afraid that voice like thunder
Will burn me up in smoke.
And I'm not talking about Hell, I don't know nothing bout all that.
But I know I'm gonna get burned, by the hell within or the flames without.

I realized all the debaters were just talking themselves round in circles. 
That the best apologetics is probably just an apology.
I've been hesitant to put my pen to the paper because I'm afraid to do God an injustice
And I'm afraid that if you knew that I like God you won't like me.
All my prayers are like paper cranes with broken wings,
Ain't nobody flying if things left up to me.
But you know I realized that butterflies have been around a long time
They survived the dinosaur holocaust and
The wars and they're still flying and they're not
Even all streamlined like swallows for catching the breeze,
Just a two-dimensional piece of paper,
A simple kid like me.
And I realized that while perhaps putting too much of my fingerprints all over this thing
Could give it a broken wing
Faith ain't going anywhere,
The problem's always been me. 
And even when I shove my Bible to the back of the closet and stop
Praying, I know, and I know what I've seen.
It's hard to look a dragon in the eye and forget what you've seen,
It's hard to hold a hummingbird on your fingertips and not change.
It's hard to look in the mirror at me.
It's harder for me to not believe.