22 November, 2010

Landed

I had just gotten off the bus.
A hundred dollars in my pocket.
Nothing left
But the clothes on my back
And the hope in my heart
Fluttering and sad,
Dying with the morning light.

I landed on your doorstep.
"What are you doing here?'
"I don't know."

And here begins my story:

I met you five years ago
On a dark winter's eve.
It was three days after the new year
And the first day
Of life as I knew it.

You looked plain then.
Nothing special.
Nothing
Out of the ordinary.

We became friends
Had talks over tea
And perused over old films
Discussed disco and diplomacy
Forgoed conclusions.

I liked the way you moved
Steady and quiet
And you liked the way I was kind
Like a home you suddenly remembered.
We laughed while looking away
Too hard to breathe
Too easy to stare
Too perfect to let go...
But I did let you go

It wasn't until you were gone
Out of my life
That I realized your eyes burned
With soft fire
And my eyes were rimmed
With starlight.

Your arms encircled me
To hug me goodbye
My feet stayed rooted
To keep from running away.

I don't want to say goodbye
I don't want to say goodbye.
So I didn't.
I let you leave
And DIDN'T
Watch you go.

And now I'm here.

"I'm here to say goodbye, I guess.
I didn't get to say it
The first time around."

I said goodbye
When what I meant to say was
I love the way your eyes
Move over a photograph
Steady and searching
For glints of starlight
Only you can see.
I love the way you walk
Deliberate and sure
But never earth-shattering.
I love the way you cook
And knead dough
Mash potatoes
Feed the cat.

I love...

I can't say it.
I won't.

"Goodbye to you, too," you say.
We stand in the doorway
Starlight in our eyes
And soft fire emanating
In its coals.

Goodbye means hello
And I miss you
And how are you
And...

"Would you like to come in?"
"Yes. Yes, I would."
"Then come in. We'll have tea
And discuss why
You came three thousand miles
Just to tell me goodbye."

The tea had never tasted so fine.

Commander's Tea

The commander of
Starlit time
Ripped out truncated
Sacks of black jasmine tea
Purloined from the wells of
Dragons, romantics,
And old widowers.

He struck a
Broken match
A broken chord
A broken bargain
Hoping to regain
A gasping chance
Of living past this night

His ship lay swollen
With the members of its
Ragtag crew
Deep in its endoplasmic underbelly

The parabolas of the hull
The circumference of the helm
The parallels of the coaming
And lacing of the crosstrees...

Ah, these he knew too well
He had none other
Than these for companions

The stasis of the ship
The purpose of the trip
Was gone now
Deliquesced...
Like the honey he had
With his tea

Drinking slowly
He looked up
At the ceiling of water
And watched the sun
Make its rounds
Over the tops of the waves.

Everything sacred

We tasted like ice
And burnt cinnamon
Fire sizzled down your throat
And the plaintive mews of yesteryear
Caught in the turn
And twisting
Of my marzipan hands.

You
Of only stark-white
Bone
And magnesium bright
Crossed the nexus
Laying succulent passion fruit
And fury sap
At my feet.

My dainty
Palace feet
Bound and chained
Longed and yearned
To run to you
Heaving and dry--
With the anguish of yesteryear

When will the music fade?
The jazz notes
And blues of smoky
Risque clubs

My palace feet
Will never know
Never conquer
The agony of your earth
O, sing to me
Bring to me
Muses of Ancient times
Of Sicilian olives
And branches most divine

Connect my world and yours
Twisting, twirling
And falling to ashes
Everything sacred
Was found in your balmy eyes
And my palace feet
Never danced again.

Until you come
Bringing me yesteryear
And olives and fruit
Of passion most divine