Black Gold

It goes down smoothly

and begs me awake,

the warmth is the liquid

of which the gods spake,

without it I

am thrown for a loop,

but lord knows it won’t

be long till I poop.

Nectar

I like it dark

and with a little creamer,

especially as

a slow waking dreamer.

Work

How much work is too much?

She whispered from behind worried eyes.

I smiled and kissed her,

And waited the rest of my life to tell her.

Early

The crisp air,

the smell of coffee,

the dog needs to poop,

It’s early.

The Ocean

I told her that I loved her

Every time a wave

crashed on the beach.

I bought a house by the sea

And she knew it was true.

The Future

Would you ask what I think if I asked you,

would you take what you saw and make it true,

would you grab my hand and lead me through,

the journey of making my way to you?

 

It’s sitting there, just out of reach,

another situation designed to teach

that life is alive, and all that I preach

is to the unfairness of mouth-less speech.

 

This isn’t about the here and the now,

it’s about making the dream a reality, somehow

about fields that you till, and aerate, and plow,

and work that you do as you furrow your brow.

 

The future is a blank canvas ready for art,

but would I ever have the courage to start

after the pain and betrayal of my wounded heart?

Making the answer yes is the hardest part.

 

Cold

Autumn is no time

for the memories of winter

to bring us back to the thoughts of

the end of the time we spent together.

Crimson will always

match the color of the fear

that lessons hard learned will never

leave me with more than this emptiness.

My only solace is a

distant memory that isn’t

tainted by the lies of my past and

could never compete with this violence.

But this one is distant

because it hasn’t happened

yet, and without intervention it

will remain a fevered, and lucid dream.

What then shall I say

to this wrapped around cold

as it removes the feeling from an

unwelcome fear that rules my destiny?

In a moment

It might last a second, a month, or a year,

But despite all of that I’m riddled with fear

that the good I desire and think of so dear

will evaporate like a single, drying tear,

but I can’t let that drive me inside of myself

or let it strand my heart high on that shelf,

I know that I’m rich, love is my wealth

and letting it shine is good for my health.

 

 

Dedicated to Mike Irene

Better

The task of getting better

is a long and arduous

journey, but how wonderful

it is to meet those special

people who help us see that

we have a long way to grow.

Norsk

It seems a shame to wonder

whether or not it is time

to let fly with romance

in favor of fewer

walls around

my lonely

heart.

I wish

that I was

able to see the

future such that

I could ascertain if

this risk was worth it

but the leap is half the fun