Jaded

I’m aware that I’m jaded
Unerringly stated
My bearings have faded
I’m carrying weight
That I’d rather be rid of
So why am I holding it still?

It’s as if I’m a child
My will is beguiled
By someone who smiled
Then left me exiled
And yet I go reaching
For that which I know never will

Ever fill in the places
Between all the spaces
Or shorten the paces
With loving embraces
For she was square
And my heart needs a circle to fill

I’m aware that it’s over
Though lacking in closure
The last of our clover
Was plucked in October
And here I am counting
The leaves and petals and hoping for “over until…”

Swing

I drove into the darkness of the darkest night of all
And left there swinging by your stars
And looked into a mirror cracked that showed me looming lights
So then I chose to see your eyes within the lights of passing cars

So, did I feel a pulse that seemed a blinker in the night –
A fading strobe upon the black –
That only told me lines of we were solid, and then dashed
And going forward…I don’t know, but maybe that means going back

To where the road I turned upon was turning back around
Into a highway from before
That surely I was driving on, but can’t remember why
And I’m not sure I have a reason left to drive it anymore

All it seemed to be is something made of circumstance
A future made of flattened tar
And maybe that’s the reason that I dream of you and still
Wish I was just a bit of light within the sky, forever swinging from your star

Meant

Built on webs of eternities that we built
While your breath was still turning seas into silt
Was I more than a once named landslide?
Were there flowers inside your dreams
Or just a memory built in a forest to wilt?

Stretching out like a cloud made of cotton and dyed
With your lips – an ellipsis – words have denied
What was once such a boundless sunrise
Made of everything this life means
But turned around and confessing, in truth, that they lied

In a way that I couldn’t know when I knew
What was hiding in me in the surface of you
When I offered to hold your sorrow
So the gravity spared your soul
As if in dying I’d bring a new life to me too

That would pay back the current sea that I spent
While believing you’d give even half what I lent
Do I grapple the loss of what was
And accept that I died in your eyes
And do I try to pretend that you’re not what you meant?

Hunter

Set upon a mantle, under wax, within a bowl
The last remaining fragment of the heart the hunter stole
Where quandary and question bled together on a scroll
He inked in blood and ashen dust
Using a quill he dipped in rust
Searching the letters like a loop that he assumed he could control

Desolation danced within the letters neath the pen
Like echoes of tomorrow with the smirk of never when
Wearing all the garments that alluded to a then
That never matched the page before
As if a work of faded lore
Was every memory he set when’ere he read them back again

Yet, beneath the lacquer, that was but a sobriquet
For the cold conditions and the loss of yesterday,
Heard he, still, the heart, as if wasn’t dead and gray,
As if a clock with phantom gears
That played a chime nobody hears
And told a time that he desired, on a lens with no display

So, in supplication, by a moon and setting sun
Labors left, unraveled he, by what he hadn’t done
Pressing lips to wax that held a heart that beat for none
Upon a mantle and he wept
For knowing never why he kept
The dead reminder of the day that he became the thing he never could become

Wane

I tried to hold the end at bay
With only fingers wearing ink of no regard
Like twine around a dead bouquet
And slipping through like bits of ash from where it charred

Was breathing out the come what may
Through the lips I varnished mad with ardent ties
But don’t you see, it’s all okay
As long as all your favorite comets never die

That’s how the pieces seem to weigh
Like silver shavings on a scale that’s rusted still
With tinsel on the pale today
And metaphors for how we love and always will

But words between the ones I say
Seem to always be the louder of the sounds
Wish I could send the sun away
So then the moon won’t even know that I’m around

Minus

Minus one and minus one and minus one again
A single plus delivered thus
And then redacted in the end

Two hundred, fifty-five and minus one and minus one
Till it’s a hundred, twenty; hundred, twenty
Hundred, twenty: done

Plus a negative and plus a negative and plus
A few imaginary numbers
But they don’t amount to much

Add up all the minuses till minuses remain
The only thing that has a value
And pretend that all the loss is worth the pain

No

Did you find the one you’re looking for
As you boarded up the open door?
Was it easier to say
That it was easier to stay
Than simply go?

Did you ever think, “What happened next?”
In the days beyond your final text?
Did you look at what you said
Or were they words delivered dead
And given so?

Were you ever really even there
Inbetween the dreams that I compare
To a shadow on the sun
Or like a bullet in your gun?
And did you know

That in deference I yet remain
With a wound that weeps your fragile name
And tells me I am less
Than any woe your lips impress
Upon the flesh
That would’ve worn
A million scars
Before my breath could tell you,
“no…”