C for can

I'm alone you know,
can't you see me sitting here?
alone.
I scared you know,
can't you feel my heart beating?
with terror.
I'm empty you know,
can't you see the hole in my stomach?
it's fatal.
I'm crying you know,
can't you see the stains?
of tears.
That's all I have to say,
but can you hear me?

"Will you trust me?"

She looked up and saw him there, standing as he always did, playing a genius smile. Then she hung her head again.

"What do you mean?"
"Will you trust me?"
"I don't, I don't know."
"It's quite simple, darling, will you give me your heart?"
She blinked.
"No."

Shall She Dance?

step
one
two,
step
three
four-
music playing
legs are dancing
bodies (clashing);
step
one
two,
step and a-
her heart is thumping
her knees are trembling
her memory failing,
for his hand
it holds her hand;
and step
one
two,
step
three
four...

step

step
four
(no)
step
two
(no)
step
three
two
(stumble!)

When Midnight spoke this is what he said:

I just wanted you to know

...my dear glowing Moon...

that I think you're beautiful.

three. ninety-nine

She stares at me with her shaded eyes.
Who is she,
this black porcelain face I bought for only $3.99?

The life of R. Neale

Cutting,
cutting,
cutting

MEAT

on the counter
at your feet.
Never,
never,
ending

CUSTOMERS

waiting,
watching,
frowning,
scowling,
watching,
watching,
WATCHING!

A Rhymeless Christmas Poem

But there aren't any dancing trees
and there aren't any lights,
it's almost as though it never was;
Christmas that is.
And there isn't any snow,
not even the littlest bit,
and I'm afraid,
terribly afraid
that a "Merry Christmas" will never come.

Nov. 19th

What?
Is there something wrong with me?
Or is there something wrong with you?

Brilliant!

Sing a song of sixpence
a pocket full of rye
four and twenty blackbirds
baked in a pie

When the pie was opened
the birds began to sing
was that not a tasty dish
to set before a king?

The King was in his counting house
counting out his money
the Queen was in the parlor
eating bread and honey

The maid was in the garden
hanging out the clothes
when down came a blackbird
and snapped off her nose!



No, I didn't write this poem, but I wish I could take the credit for it. Back in the day (such as the early 1700's) it was a coded message used to recruit crew members for pirate ships, and any pirate who was a pirate knew and understood the rhymes. They were brilliant, them blackguards, brilliantly clever!

Just let go...

So

Good thing I said no,
good thing you don't know
that what I said is in fact not so,
that what you don't know can't hurt
and what I know can hurt.

Nonsense

I saw her smile way down here,
while she smiled way up there.

Martini, Please

So pour me a martini,
pour me two in fact-
make sure they overflow,
make sure it's so.
She's fair
so fair,
fairer then the wind,
a captivating wind.
Her eyes don't explain the sea,
the sea explains her eyes,
a sea too beautiful
to be.
So pour me a martini,
pour me three actually,
for I will never have....
...lovely Miss Martina.

Sonnet 37

Once upon a time there was a girl;
she never stopped dreaming,
she never stopped thinking,
she rarely stopped plotting.
Once upon a time she fell in love
with a knight
on a kite
one winter night.
It didn't make sense,
because she would never fall in love
with a knight
flying a kite
on a ludicrous winter night.
But facts are facts
and here is one:
she did fall in love with that knight.

I think so

I smelt the scent of you tonight,
and then I smiled and looked away.
I thought of the tree in your window,
the one I might draw,
the one that held my eyes
before I looked away.
I thought maybe
(before I looked away)
that I could walk into that drawing,
(the one I haven't drawn yet)
and strole right past the tree-
but I think you would have laughed....
when I hit the window pane.

White Tears

Hello,
are you there, still there?
Are you slowly beating,
or have you fled instead?

Hello,
do you care, is it fair?
That all his breath is breathing
is blood that's red as red?

Goodbye,
the snow is crying,
like black hooves coming,
flying.

Farewell,
the hour ended
like a broken heart un-mended.

A Dancing Night

All those trees bend in and in
till the end is mere and thin.
Is there really an end
or does it go on forever?
A tree here,
a tree far,
a waltzer there,
a sleeping car.
Well now who's this waltzer,
waltzing right under the trees,
dancing his feet and knees?
Is he really there,
or is it plain, fine fancy-
dancing below the bending night,
waltzing across the city street?