Sunday, June 26, 2011

June 26, 2011 7:58AM-

While I pack my camp gear
I try hard to imagine what you would say
I was missing, something I wouldn't
Even know I forgot until I needed it.
You would probably like my tent,
I think, as Ann and I practice
Putting it up and taking it down
At least once or twice, to prepare.
Here in the front yard, it seems
Like a futile excersise, but I know
You would agree with the theory.

I sometimes still think as I push open
The garage door, I will see your hand
Outstretched, palm out.
I wait to hear you call my name,
To greet me with that excitement in your voice.
And maybe a tiny bit of resentment
That it had been two or three days since the last visit.
You would probably ask for a can of gasoline.

I never did, but now, I would probably ask you
To share your can of Skoal. I wish
We would have done that, when we still could.
I wish we would have gone camping.
I know you were tired, and ready to go-- to be honest.
I know I would have selfishly pushed you through it,
But on the other end, we would have both been better,
And I'd have had a few more memories to hold onto.
I wish you would have met my wife. She only knows
The picture of you at Jason's wedding
That I haven't decided where to hang quite yet.

I know it's never long enough,
But in your case, it really wasn't.
All these people that have come along
Like your great-gandson, who shares your name--
I wonder if he would call you Pappaw--
Or later on if he would spell it like
I do, or with an L, or like mom does--
All these people now in our lives,
And those not yet arrived,
Would not hope to be here, were it not for you.
We would not be who we are without your love.
And they owe your thier happiness, as we do
Though they have never met you.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

December 12, 2009, after midnight

As the winter dustings settle in.
As we spend Tuesdays hanging stockings
And Thursdays trimming trees-- hanging lights.
I know more than I did yesterday
That you are all I was meant for.

Between Santa hats and small disputes,
I hope I can find enough time to tell you
How much I love you. Between 7am coffee
And staring for 120 seconds before you awake,
I hope I can shine a light on you
Like you have done for me every day.
I hope I can show, I was meant for you.

And we were meant for two man Friday nights.
The bitter sting of salty Tequila shots,
The permentant smiles are setting in.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

If I could say how I feel it would certainly scare you.
They aren't mere words, they are pulses of love.
Electric vines entwined between your lips and mine.
It could not be more simple-- this is love.
Love beyond greeting cards. It surpasses
Shakespeare, it could not be acted or played out
In any way, it could only be you and I,
On a train from Rome to Venice, with
My head on your lap, your hand in my hair.

It can't be written out in detail, but I could show you.
If I could take a picture
Of your hand, wrapped inside of mine.
Your shoulder tucked below my arm.
Your cheek against my body, softly.
Your heart inside my heart.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

August 26, 2009

I've got you hanging on my wall.
I've got you buzzing in my ear.
I've got you wrapped around
The corners of my mind
And on it all the time.

I've come this far for only you.
I've been waiting for so long.
I've got drawers packed full
Of greeting cards. I've got
Poems, I've got songs, I've got you.

I've got love tight inside my pocket.
I've got a hard grip on tomorrow.
I've got you to look forward to.
I've got much more than I would ask for.
I've got you hanging on my wall.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

August 22, 2009 - the beginning of Annie

You may have spoke too soon,
But I'm feeling just the same as you.
You are beautiful, you taste like my
Dreams coming true. Your taste
Fascinates me. Your laugh, your shape
As you climb out of bed, your smile,
Your head on my lap. I miss
You every minute you are away,
But you say "soon enough"
You will be here, be mine,
Be my baby blue eyes.
And we will run off after the sunrise.

I've been waiting for you.
You left like sunset,
Squeezed behind the hill,
Regretting our last mistaken goodbye.
A breeze licked the raindrops from the rail,
As the sun beating broke the scilence
Of a Saturday afternoon aglow.
Full of dancing limbs, and telephone poles.
A warm aroma oozes out to air.
The summer melts around me; wet, dripping,
Heat-soaked with laughter not yet opened up.
A fine moment this would be, with company,
Easy chatter, like spilled drinks un-noticed.

A slender cloud on the horizon, cut
Deep into the distance, I wonder what.
Closing out the sunshine, with eyelids shut.
It was the last time
I heard your voice.
The pitchy frustration,
A cliff's edge
A crash of satly tear-waves below.
A year I waited
And you slid into my bed
With enough ease to
Make me wonder. After
Months, I ran out of poems
That I hadn't already read to you.
You grew bored, rushed off
To a walkaway.
It was the last time.