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Attack...

I had
A heart attack,
But it wasn't mine,
It was yours;
That disarmed me,
With your hair loose
You've unraveled me,
You distract me
Comet out of 
It's course,
If I continue this way
I will crash
With the sun,
And from there I'll emerge fierce
Volcano of desires
For you,
With but a simple
Brush of your skin
With the mercury
Of my soul aflame,
If we united
In this moment
The planets
Would align
And new galaxies
Would be born,
All this plays
In front of my eyes
I on the ground
Recovering
Attack from your heart;
I don't defend myself
Because these battles
You will always win...
APAD13 - 036 

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Waste of Gas

After a particularly long phone conversation with you,
I find myself frustrated.
(Not that that's too unusual)
It feels like we're driving in circles,
One of your favorite activities.
Driving around the same streets
For hours.
I always hated that.
It's a waste of time
And of gas. 

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Waltz...

You and I
May try 
And dance together,
But she,
She tangos
With my heart,
Dangerous steps between
My love and her eyes
Aggressively 
Entwined souls
Pushing and pulling,
Who will give 
And what will break,
The subtlety of her
Nuclear bombs
Going off in my mind,
All the minutes play
In rapid succession
How I would have approached her
And gracefully swept
Her away to a world
Dreamt between
Our exchange;
Lurid lucid waltz
That you and I;
Could only sway to...
APAD13 - 073

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Replenished...

How many stars
Will die
How many 
Will be born
Until I see you again?
How many tides
Will come and go
How many lakes
Will dry
Until we come together?
How many songs
Will play,
How many 
New will be written
Before we laugh again?
How many breaths
Will I take
How many 
Heart beats
Will pulse through me
Before I come apart
Ligaments and tendons
Undone like Lego's
That won't snap 
Into shapes again,
Until I see
The laughter of your eyes
Shine into my soul; then replenished...
APAD13 - 072

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Words do no justice

 

I dreamt in poetry last night, I cannot remember a single word but I felt the art in my bones. Tried as I did to recall the pentameter it eluded my thoughts, fleeting shadows of metaphor and beauty. But you were there. This I know.

The image was spring mist and pastel blur, shifting heart-swells carried me aloft. I felt you rather than witnessed and that was far more tangible for the viewing. Perhaps there was not poetry as verse or couplet but movement and sensation, the enchanting poetry of your soul infused with my dreamscape. Whatever the truth of brushstrokes laid on masterpieces of desire, we were there and poetry was your sweet breath across my cheek.

I dreamt in poetry last night and awoke to find the stanzas contained no words, only you.

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Haikus found in a Confessional

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Frolic...

I want to discuss with you, 
An old language
I learnt from the darkness
When the winds stopped
And the birds ceased their chirping 
I'll warn you though
We must be quiet 
Less than library voices 
Less than hushed whispers 
Less than quiet murmurs,
We must be only as loud 
As our heartbeats 
Echoing in our ears
Pulsing through our bodies 
As our lips melt together 
And our hands 
Our souls
Entangle 
Gasping for air
Rhythmic 
In our not so rhythmic 
Frolic, 
Tell me then, 
Isn't this language 
This passionate silence 
Better 
Than any other sounds 
Than any other exchange?
And only we will forever share
In it's intricacy...
APAD13 - 074

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Leave...

I'd call you a fool
And you'd call me a tool,
If after years we cannot 
Believe each other
That we'll never walk away
Too many opportunities
Come and gone
To make like 
Trees and leave
And trail behind
Only the dead
Thoughts
And withered dreams,
But I'm a dog for you
Loyal until my end
Whether you 
Want to lead me there
By my side
I'm always going to be here
Wherever that may be
Because without you
I'm nowhere
Just somewhere
On the same planet
And I can't get away
Far enough
Like to another constellation
To make running away
Seem worth it,
So here I lie
Wagging my heart 
Upon the cold ground
I hope you'll walk upon
One day back to me...
APAD13 - 081 © okpoet

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Cacophystry

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Lost Prayers

            She kicked the door open when no one answered, breaking the flimsy lock in the knob on the third try. “Jesus, help me,” she muttered irritably, crossing herself as she entered the dark house. It reeked of body odor, stale booze and sex as she stepped over passed out bodies, looking for a hulking figure. She found him one of the bedrooms, sitting up in a corner as he always did, eyes bleary and red in the light that shone on them from the open door.

            “Hey,” he said. He pocketed the phone, missing the first try and started to push himself off the floor. She took one of his wrists in her little hand and pulled. Once on his feet, her head didn’t reach his shoulder and yet she supported his weight as she helped him out of the house. Whiskey, she thought, his breath hot on her face. He closed his eyes against the daylight and together they limped to her car, got in and drove away.

 

            It wasn’t the first time she’d picked him up like this. It wasn’t the second or third or tenth. She had stopped keeping track. His head against the window, she thought he had fallen asleep, like he usually did. She usually drove to his apartment, he would mutter a thanks and he would leave. She wouldn’t see him again for weeks, sometimes a few months at a time. He broke the cycle.

            “Why do you always come?” he asked. It was always a text at five in the morning, asking for help, not sure where he was. She knew all the usual places to look, the bars and the houses and hotels. She got word from around town where the drinks would be, and there she would find him when he needed her.

            “I don’t know,” she said. She didn’t have to look at him to know there were tears streaking down his cheeks now and then; she could hear it in his voice. “Someone has to,” she said. He shook his head.

            “You don’t have to.”

            “Would anyone else?” He swallowed, cleared his throat.

            “No.” She knew it was the alcohol he went for. She’d never found him with another woman, no matter how drunk he was. He knew no simple sex would replace her, would drive her from his memory. He didn’t think he was capable of it, even if he could convince himself to try. He drank because sometimes, sometimes he could forget her. He knew a hundred others like him, trying to drink away a woman. He was not special or deserving of sympathy and he never believed otherwise. But this had gone on too long now. He wasn’t the suicidal type. He just knew it was time to end this cycle.

            “I just want to know why you still come.”

            “Can we not talk?” she asked. He smiled.

            “I just want to know this one last thing.” Last? What did he mean? Suicide didn’t enter her mind; she knew he was too stubborn for that. She shook her head. She pulled up alongside the curb in front of his apartment and put the car in park, not taking her hand off the wheel. He looked over at her from the window and a spark of light around her neck caught his attention. He reached for it.

            “Stop it!” she snapped, slapping his hand away, not looking at him. She glared out the window, her chest heaving under the cardigan she wore, heart hammering with both fear and confusion. He looked away, ashamed.

 

            “I wasn’t trying anything,” he said weakly, and he truly wasn’t. “I just never seen you wear a necklace before. Wondered what it was,” he said. He opened the door, and got quickly out of her car. “Thanks again,” he said and closed it, hurrying into the apartment, not looking back. Up the stairs two at a time, trying to hold himself together, he unlocked the door with fumbling fingers, opened the door and slammed it shut. He turned and engaged the deadbolt, collapsing against the smooth surface as he did, sliding down it until he was on his knees, head in hands, the tears flowing between his fingers, his powerful shoulders shaking as he cried, praying for her forgiveness, because even God didn’t forgive men like him.

 

            She sat there in the street even as he cried, tears streaming down her own cheeks. Her fingers gripped what hung at the end of the chain she wore. Bent over the steering wheel, she pressed the wedding ring he had given her to her chest and prayed, though she didn’t know what to pray for.