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Antique Shop
Reasons and days spill hearted desires, flipping light switches when my shop opens to the custom buyers.
I wouldn’t notice a line drawn or a cup tipping, can I sell antiques when the vase caring water starts dripping?
Does it bother you when I kiss your smile, wiping tears when water hits my tiles.
Female features distract my gaze by the flowers, do you think a needle hides within a caving hay tower?
Guilt or truth, it’s all just hidden in my concealed lips, bronze cups breeze cool winds when you gently sip.
Playing out before me while a clock narrows a minute one from three, bashful hours always leap into the mild flirtatious sea.
Come and look over my shoulder when books dream, their vintage ink drips past a worn out seam.
Lessons of a mirror, buried in a wall, fellow men purchase items that speak rhythms of a call.
Quiet your curious mind and sleep where the bed did lay, antique shop lingers perhaps a moment, in a day.
Don’t be naive under constant gazes, breaking oaths while relationships pass through their stages.
Naive, so naive.
String tied on a little black bird’s wing, sweet words he spoke until they sting.
Oh, the hardest part is that I believe,
Hoping he holds me, but footsteps always leave.
Constant sleep.
Countless stars are miles away.
I am so sorry, so broken.
Locked within his colored eyes, lips mutter while my ears listen to the lies.
Just cheap excuses laying out inside my mind, tears blur the sight of what I want to find.
Is there nothing left while I make my bed, little moments, forgetful thoughts of what he said.
Don’t look away from the truthful lies, read the story played out inside my eyes.
Droplet Nights
Don’t cry yourself to sleep during the night.
Listen to my heart beats kiss your mind.
Please don’t cry here, what upsets you my dear?
Anything that I might have done, like a pale blue moon blocking out the sun?
I can’t hear your tears at all, another weary problem while each drop continually falls.
Like a sound muted by the ear, my arms fall, her undoubted fear.
Oh, do I even know why?
We could mean anything at all to you.
When will she come around?
Dark shades linger on her bedposts, anxiety in her eyes while she quietly chokes.
Like a dog in a cage
A twig in a flame.
A rock in a lake.
There’s no reason to believe I don’t love you, and I just want to know if we can be the only two?
Don’t cry yourself to sleep at night.
This could reveal anything.
There’s a sigh but can she say the problem?
Keep me grounded in her self antics.
Was there another lover who gave everything, she’s the one searching for answers in anything.
Is she okay?
So silent.
So quiet.
So muffled.
I’m wrapped in your eyes, can’t you see I’ve unraveled darker lies?
Is there nothing anymore?
We are like an empty sky.
Denied by the clouds.
Hidden from the stars.
Look into the words that I’ve let in, she can’t understand that this breaks me within.
Parts and gaps of her complex emotion, her whispers of love float out onto this misty ocean.
I’ve never been here for you is what I’ll say, this won’t make sense but I’ll understand better by the day.
She’s just scared.
Shorted air.
Defying care.
The thoughts and dreams collect my mind, going to look away in and out of weary time.
We will never be the same.
I will never be the same.
Crying herself to sleep at night.
I do love you but what’s the point of rejection, she tears while denying casted affection.
Drowning in a black cloud, enclosing our lives in a shroud.
I will never listen to what they say.
I am looking into those eyes, pale moon, nostalgia of refused, lovers swoon.
Dropping my head, of what she said.
Cry yourself to sleep at night.
Lions on a Main
Do what’s morbid, like a twisted string around my neck, kissing black sails while watching ships quietly wreck.
The cries of hopeless human demise, clouds bring a cover to shade this grace of lies.
We are kings, lords of a nation.
This cliff we stand on harbors death.
Our crowns darken against the winds.
Manes flowing in this eerie storm.
Hear us call upon the deafening mist, let the water swallow your ship with our approving kiss.
Repentance cannot save your faithless heart, commanding the sea to commit it’s dreary part.
Waves crash against rock.
The fleets cripple on our main.
Us kings watch with all of our grace.
Imagine sea and stone and nothing more, Lions on a main, Kings left in mythologic lore.
Jane’s Letter
Sweet dear, I’ve always thought of you.
I press inked pen against paper of white.
Spilling hearted truths that wrap my weary mind.
Stamped and sent away for your eyes to hopefully read.
And all I feel
And all I sense
And all I know
Is that I love you.
Mr. Blueskies
I am but a man with a simple wish, I want to believe that my love melts her with a kiss.
Sitting at an airport that carries silhouettes away, my eyes are wet, thinking upon yesterday.
I was sitting there.
Holding a card just for you.
Oh dear, you’re somebody I knew.
Our table holds black coffee stains.
My insides shook like a storm.
Hold out my heart dear, it crumbles like a stone.
And when I left that doorway to go, she had my bags packed, darling is it so?
Rain beats down on my brown Panama hat, drinking the moist air as common sense lingers on her doormat.
Was I the one worth leaving?
Tell me love why?
Plane tickets show distance.
You said where you go I follow.
Guess there’s something better.
Don’t eat away the truth while you build up the lies.
Humming noises of the metal bird, but I look back to utter one last word.
This room is blank as I suddenly appear at a shop it seems, hard swift scents of coffee beans.
My mind is tired from the traveling altitudes, hazy breaths as I envision altered moods.
My name I cannot recall.
A sky is over me and below my feet.
Close the shop door and see.
She’s gone and I’ve lost all of me.
People walking by, ghosts of conversation.
I look down then up to see why it’s wet, clouds cover the days as each one sets.
Please turn around.
Hold my warm heart.
Muffled calls as I still hold your card.
Written for her delicate loving eyes.
Tattered strings wrap the paper.
Why did this happen to me?
Goodbye it seems.
You said we are the ones with everything.
I know why the plane carries people away and flies, I remember my name, water colored, Mr. Blueskies.
Clipped Letters Poetry 